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'And so do I,' said a new voice, somewhere above Bronson and Angela.

Suddenly the darkness was split by a trio of powerful torch beams that dazzled them. It was like Hezekiah's Tunnel all over again, except that this time there was nowhere for them to run to. They were trapped in a dead end, unarmed and helpless.

Bronson and Angela were pinned by the light, standing on the wooden platform and staring up at the men holding torches at the top of the final staircase.

Hoxton moved his torch backwards slightly to illuminate the pistol he held in his right hand.

'As you can see, we're armed,' he said, 'so don't try anything stupid.'

'What do you want?' Bronson demanded.

'I'd have thought that was obvious,' Baverstock said. 'We're here to take that scroll. Thanks for finding it for us. We didn't even need to get our feet wet.'

Angela recognized his voice immediately. 'Tony? I should have guessed. What are you doing here?'

'The same as you, Lewis. Looking for the treasure the Sicarii hid here two millennia ago. I'm so pleased you've found it. This is going to make me very rich.'

'Nonsense,' Angela objected, her tone sharp and angry.

'If this is the Silver Scroll, it needs to be properly analysed and conserved. It must go to a museum.'

'Oh, it'll end up in a museum eventually, don't worry about that,' Baverstock assured her. 'What you've got there is probably the world's most famous treasure map.

And when we've translated the text we'll have access to the greatest collection of buried treasure in history. We'll spend the next few years digging it all up and carefully selling a few of the best bits on the black market – Dexter here is an expert in that field – and then we can all retire on the proceeds. Then I'll trot back to the British Museum with the scroll. My name will be as famous as Howard Carter's.'

'I always thought you were an academic, Tony,' Angela said, her voice dripping scorn. 'But you're really just a grubby little tomb-robber, aren't you?'

'I am an academic, but I've always been quite happy to do a bit of freelancing on the side. Rather like you, in fact.'

'And if we give you the scroll, you'll let us go?' Angela asked.

'Don't be so naïve,' Hoxton snapped. 'If we let you live, you'll tell somebody about this scroll and the Middle East will be full of treasure hunters within a matter of days. Your career, and your life, are going to end right here.'

'I'm a British police officer,' Bronson warned him. 'Kill me and you'll have every copper in Britain looking for you.'

'If we were in a cellar in England, I'd agree with you, but we're standing underneath a deserted fortress in the middle of Israel. Nobody's going to know you're dead; no one will ever know you were even here. Both your bodies will simply vanish. That well behind you is deep enough to hold your bones for all eternity. Now, hand over that scroll.' Hoxton pointed at Baverstock. 'Get it, Tony.'

Baverstock took a step towards the staircase leading down to the platform to take the relic, his pistol pointing at Angela, but Bronson had one desperate card left to play.

He grabbed the scroll and jumped back, holding the relic directly above the dark water of the well.

'One more step and I'll drop this,' he threatened. 'I've no idea how far down this spring goes, but I can promise you it is deep. You'll need specialist diving equipment to recover it – if you ever do. As you said, this well could hold its secrets for all eternity.'

For several seconds nobody spoke or moved, and then a single shot rang out, the echo crashing and reverberating around the cavern, shockingly loud in the confined space.

And then a man screamed in pain.