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Overview
After fifty years in hiding, the Nazi war criminal known as the Butcher of Spiegelgrund has finally been tracked down by Father Anthony Fowler, a CIA operative and a member of the Vatican’s secret service. He wants something from the Butcher—a candle covered in filigree gold that was stolen from a Jewish family many years before.
But it isn’t the gold Fowler is after. As Fowler holds a flame to the wax, the missing fragment of an ancient map that uncovers the location of the Ten Commandments given to Moses is revealed. Soon Fowler is involved in an expedition to Jordan set up by a reclusive billionaire. But there is a traitor in the group who has ties to terrorist organizations back in the United States, and who is patiently awaiting the moment to strike.
From wartime Vienna to terrorist cells in New York and a lost valley in Jordan, The Moses Expedition is a thrilling read about a quest for power and the secrets of an ancient world.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781439100691 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Atria Books |
| Publication date: | 08/03/2010 |
| Sold by: | SIMON & SCHUSTER |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 400 |
| Sales rank: | 254,043 |
| File size: | 3 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
1
RESIDENCE OF BALTHASAR HANDWURZ
KRIEGLACH, AUSTRIA
Thursday, December 15, 2005. 11:42 a.m.
The priest wiped his feet carefully on the welcome mat before knocking on the door. After tracking the man for the past four months, he had finally discovered his hiding place two weeks ago. He was now sure of Handwurz’s true identity. The moment had come to confront him.
He waited patiently for a few minutes. It was almost noon and Graus would be having his customary midday nap on the sofa. There was hardly anyone in the narrow street at that hour. His neighbors on Steinfeldstraße were at work, unaware that at Number 6, in a small house with blue curtains at the windows, a genocidal monster was peacefully dozing in front of his TV set.
Finally the sound of a key in the lock warned the priest that the door was about to open. The head of an elderly man with the venerable air of someone in an advertisement for medical insurance appeared from behind the door.
“Yes?”
“Good morning, Herr Doktor.”
The old man looked the person who was addressing him up and down. The latter was tall, thin, and bald, about fifty years of age, with a priest’s collar visible under his black coat. He stood on the doorstep with the rigid posture of a military guard, his green eyes observing the old man intently.
“I think you’re mistaken, Father. I used to be a plumber, but now I’m retired. I’ve already contributed to the parish fund, so if you’ll excuse me . . .”
“You aren’t by any chance Dr. Heinrich Graus, the famous German neurosurgeon?”
The old man held his breath for a second. Aside from that, he did nothing that might give him away. However, that small detail was enough for the priest: proof positive.
“My name is Handwurz, Father.”
“That’s not true and we both know it. Now, if you’ll let me in, I’ll show you what I’ve brought with me.” The priest raised his left hand, in which he held a black briefcase.
The door swung open in response and the old man limped quickly toward the kitchen, the ancient floorboards protesting with each step. The priest followed but paid little attention to the surroundings. He had peered in through the windows on three separate occasions and already knew the location of each item of cheap furniture. He preferred keeping his eyes fixed on the old Nazi’s back. Even though the doctor walked with some difficulty, the priest had seen him lifting sacks of coal from the shed with an ease that a man decades younger might have envied. Heinrich Graus was still a dangerous man.
The small kitchen was dark and smelled rancid. It had a gas stove, a counter on which sat a dried-up onion, a round table, and two unmatched chairs. Graus gestured for the priest to sit down. The old man then rummaged through a cupboard, took out two glasses, filled them with water, and set them on the table before taking a seat himself. The glasses remained untouched as the two men sat there, impassive, regarding each other for over a minute.
The old man was dressed in a red flannel bathrobe, cotton shirt, and worn trousers. He had started going bald twenty years earlier, and the little hair he had left was completely white. His large round glasses had gone out of style before the fall of Communism. The relaxed expression around his mouth lent him a good-natured air.
None of this fooled the priest.
Dust particles floated in the shaft of light created by the weak rays of the December sun. One of them landed on the priest’s sleeve. He flicked it away without taking his gaze from the old man.
The smooth certainty of the gesture did not go unnoticed by the Nazi, but he’d had time to recover his composure.
“Aren’t you going to have some water, Father?”
“I’m not thirsty, Dr. Graus.”
“So you’re going to insist on calling me by that name. My name is Handwurz. Balthasar Handwurz.”
The priest paid no heed.
“I have to admit, you’re pretty sharp. When you got your passport to leave for Argentina, no one imagined that you’d return to Vienna a few months later. Naturally it was the last place I looked for you. Only forty-five miles from Spiegelgrund Hospital. The Nazi hunter Wiesenthal searched for years in Argentina, unaware that you were a short ride away from his office. Ironic, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s ridiculous. You’re American, aren’t you? You speak German well, but your accent gives you away.”
The priest lifted his briefcase onto the table and removed from it a worn folder. The first document he held up was a photo of a younger Graus, taken at the hospital at Spiegelgrund during the war. The second was a variation of the same photo, but with the doctor’s features aged, thanks to a software program.
“Isn’t technology great, Herr Doktor?”
“That doesn’t prove a thing. Anyone could have done that. I watch television too,” he said, but his voice betrayed something else.
“You’re right. It doesn’t prove anything, but this does.”
The priest took out a yellowing sheet to which someone had stapled a black-and-white photo, on top of which was written in sepia letters: TESTIMONIANZA FORNITA, next to the stamp of the Vatican.
“‘Balthasar Handwurz. Blond hair, brown eyes, strong features. Identifying marks: a tattoo on his left arm with the number 256441, put there by the Nazis during his stay at the concentration camp at Mauthausen.’ A place you never set foot in, Graus. Your number is a false one. The person who did your tattoo made it up on the spot, but that’s the least of it. Until now, it’s worked.”
The old man touched his arm through the flannel bathrobe. He was pale with anger and fear.
“Who the hell are you, you bastard?”
“My name is Anthony Fowler. I want to cut a deal with you.”
“Get out of my house. Right now.”
“I don’t think I’m making myself clear. You were second in command at Am Spiegelgrund Children’s Hospital for six years. It was a very interesting place. Almost all the patients were Jewish and they suffered from mental illness. ‘Lives not worth living,’ isn’t that what you called them?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about!”
“Nobody suspected what you were doing there. The experiments. Cutting children up while they were still alive. Seven hundred and fourteen, Dr. Graus. You killed seven hundred and fourteen of them with your own hands.”
“I told you—”
“You kept their brains in jars!”
Fowler smashed his fist on the table so hard that both glasses toppled over, and for a moment the only sound was that of the water dripping onto the tiled floor. Fowler took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm himself.
The doctor avoided looking into the green eyes that seemed ready to cut him in half.
“Are you with the Jews?”
“No, Graus. You know I’m not. If I were one of them, you’d be dangling from a noose in Tel Aviv. My . . . affiliation is with the people who facilitated your escape in 1946.”
The doctor repressed a shiver.
“The Holy Alliance,” he muttered.
Fowler did not reply.
“And what does the Alliance want from me after all these years?”
“Something in your possession.”
The Nazi gestured at his surroundings.
“As you can see, I’m not exactly a rich man. I have no money left.”
“If I were after money, I could easily sell you to the attorney general in Stuttgart. They’re still offering 130,000 euros for your capture. I want the candle.”
The Nazi stared at him blankly, pretending not to understand.
“What candle?”
“Now you’re the one being ridiculous, Dr. Graus. I’m talking about the candle you stole from the Cohen family sixty-two years ago. A heavy candle without a wick, covered with gold filigree. That’s what I want and I want it now.”
“Take your bloody lies elsewhere. I don’t have any candle.”
Fowler sighed, leaned back on his chair, and pointed at the upturned glasses on the table.
“Do you have anything stronger?”
“Behind you,” Graus said, nodding toward a cupboard.
The priest turned and reached for a bottle that was half full. He picked up the glasses and poured two fingers of bright yellow liquid into each. Both men downed the drinks without making a toast.
Fowler grabbed the bottle again and poured another round. He took a sip, then said: “Weizenkorn. Wheat schnapps. It’s been a long time since I tasted this.”
“I’m sure you haven’t missed it.”
“True. But it’s cheap, isn’t it?”
Graus shrugged his shoulders.
“A man like you, Graus. Brilliant. Vain. I can’t believe you drink this. You’re slowly poisoning yourself in a dirty hole that smells of piss. And you want to know something? I understand . . .”
“You don’t understand a thing.”
“Well done. You still remember the techniques of the Reich. Officers’ Regulations. Section Three. ‘In the event of capture by the enemy, deny everything and give only short answers that will not compromise you.’ Well, Graus, get used to it. You’re compromised up to your neck.”
The old man pulled a face and poured himself the rest of the schnapps. Fowler watched his opponent’s body language as the monster’s resolve slowly crumbled. He was like a painter stepping back after a few brushstrokes to examine the canvas before deciding which colors to use next.
The priest decided to try using the truth.
“Look at my hands, Doctor,” said Fowler, placing them on the table. They were wrinkled, with long delicate fingers. There was nothing strange about them except for one small detail. At the top section of each finger near the knuckles was a thin whitish line that continued right across each hand.
“Those are ugly scars. How old were you when you got them? Ten? Eleven?”
“Twelve. I was practicing the piano: Chopin Preludes, Opus 28. My father came over to the piano and, without any warning, slammed the lid of the Steinway down as hard as he could. It was a miracle I didn’t lose my fingers, but I was never able to play again.”
The priest gripped his glass and seemed to lose himself in its contents before going on. He had never been able to acknowledge what had happened while looking another human being in the eye.
“From the time I was nine years old my father . . . forced himself on me. That day I told him I was going to tell someone if he did it again. He didn’t threaten me. He simply destroyed my hands. Then he cried, asked me to forgive him, and called on the best doctors money could buy. No, Graus. Don’t even think about it.”
Graus had slid his hand under the table, feeling for the cutlery drawer. He quickly withdrew it.
“That’s why I understand you, Doctor. My father was a monster whose guilt went beyond his own capacity to forgive. But he had more guts than you. Rather than slowing down in the middle of a sharp curve, he stepped on the gas and took my mother with him.”
“A very moving story, Father,” Graus said in a mocking tone.
“If you say so. You’ve been hiding in order to avoid facing your crimes, but you’ve been found out. And I’m going to give you what my father never had: a second chance.”
“I’m listening.”
“Give me the candle. In turn you’ll get this file containing all the documents that would serve as your death warrant. You can go on hiding out here for the rest of your life.”
“And that’s it?” said the old man incredulously.
“As far as I’m concerned.”
The old man shook his head and stood up with a tight smile. He opened a small cabinet and pulled out a large glass jar filled with rice.
“I never eat grains. I have an allergy.”
He emptied the rice onto the table. There was a small cloud of starch and a dry thud. Half buried in the rice was a package.
Fowler leaned forward and reached for it, but Graus’s bony paw grabbed his wrist. The priest looked at him.
“I have your word, right?” said the old man anxiously.
“Is it worth anything to you?”
“Yes, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Then you have it.”
The doctor let go of Fowler’s wrist, his own hands trembling. The priest carefully brushed off the rice and lifted out the dark cloth package. It was tied with twine. With great care he undid the knots and unwrapped the cloth. The faint rays of the early Austrian winter filled the filthy kitchen with a golden light that seemed at odds with the surroundings and the dirty gray wax of the thick candle lying on the table. At one time the candle’s entire surface had been covered by a thin sheet of gold worked in an intricate design. Now the precious metal had almost disappeared, leaving only traces of filigree on the wax.
Graus smiled sadly.
“The pawnshop took the rest, Father.”
Fowler didn’t reply. He took out a lighter from his pants pocket and flicked it on. Then he stood the candle upright on the table and brought the flame to the top of it. Although there was no wick, the heat of the flame began to melt the wax, which gave off a nauseating smell as it slid down toward the table in gray drops. Graus looked on with bitter irony, as if he enjoyed being able to speak as himself after so many years.
“I find it amusing. The Jew at the pawnshop has been buying Jewish gold for years, thereby supporting a proud member of the Reich. And what you’re witnessing now proves your search has been completely pointless.”
“Appearances can be deceptive, Graus. The gold on this candle is not the treasure I’m after. It’s only a distraction for idiots.”
Like a warning, the flame suddenly sputtered. A pool of wax had accumulated on the cloth below. At the top of what remained of the candle, the green edge of a metallic object was just about visible.
“Good, it’s here,” said the priest. “Now I can leave.”
Fowler stood up and folded the cloth around the candle once more, being careful not to burn himself.
The Nazi watched in astonishment. He was no longer smiling.
“Wait! What is that? What’s inside?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
The old man stood up, opened the cutlery drawer, and pulled out a kitchen knife. With trembling steps he made his way around the table toward the priest. Fowler watched him, motionless. In the Nazi’s eyes burned the crazed fire of someone who had spent whole nights contemplating that object.
“I have to know.”
“No, Graus. We made a deal. The candle for the file. That’s all you get.”
The old man raised the knife, but the expression on his visitor’s face made him lower it again. Fowler nodded and threw down the file on the table. Slowly, with the cloth bundle in one hand and his briefcase in the other, the priest backed toward the kitchen door. The old man picked up the file.
“There are no other copies, right?”
“Only one. The two Jews waiting outside have it.”
Graus’s eyes nearly leaped out of their sockets. He raised the knife again and advanced toward the priest.
“You lied to me! You said you’d give me a chance!”
Fowler looked at him impassively one last time.
“God will forgive me. Do you think you’ll have as much luck?”
Then, without another word, he disappeared into the hallway.
The priest walked out of the building clutching the precious package to his chest. Two men in gray coats stood guard several feet from the door. Fowler warned them as he passed: “He has a knife.”
The taller of the two cracked his knuckles and a small smile played on his lips.
“Even better,” he said.
© 2010 JUAN GÓMEZ-JURADO
What People are Saying About This
"A thrilling quest novel by a terrific new talent... this tale is going to cost you some serious sleep." --(Stephen Coonts, New York Times bestselling author of The Disciple)
"History, secrets, conspiracies, action, adventure, this is my kind of story. The Moses Expedition is fraught with intrigue and plot twists galore. Juan Gomez-Jurado is a writer who knows how to deliver exactly what readers want. He's in the top echelon of the world's thriller writers and well worth a look. Settle back and savor this perfect piece of entertainment."--(Steve Berry, New York Times bestselling author of The Paris Vendetta)
"Better take a deep breath before opening this novel—Gómez-Jurado leaves no time for a second one until you finish the last page."--(Javier Sierra, bestselling author of The Secret Supper and The Lady in Blue)
"The Moses Expedition delivers the best of the literary suspense and international intrigue genres with breakneck thrills and twists, and Gomez-Jurado enriches every page with a sophisticated portrayal of characters and a deep respect for history. This fantastic novel will have your brain working overtime and your bedside lamp on into the night."--(Matthew Pearl, New York Times bestselling author of The Dante Club)
"Juan Gomez-Jurado has created a true masterpiece. The Moses Expedition is a brilliant thriller --sharp, suspenseful, and engrossing. This is what great thriller writing is all about and why Jurado has vaulted to the top of my list of must-read authors!" -- (Brad Thor, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Foreign Influence)
"A heart-pounding thriller, jam-packed with two-thousand years of Middle Eastern intrigue."--(Katherine Neville, bestselling author of The Eight and The Fire)
Reading Group Guide
This reading group guide for The Moses Expedition includes an introduction, discussion questions, ideas for enhancing your book club, and a Q&A with author Juan Gómez-Jurado. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.
Introduction
Crafting an adventure that brings readers from wartime Vienna to terrorist cells in New York and a lost valley in Jordan, Juan Gómez-Jurado has created an unstoppable thrill ride about a quest for power and the secrets of an ancient world in The Moses Expedition. The action begins when Father Anthony Fowler, a CIA operative and member of the Vatican’s secret service, uncovers the missing fragment of an ancient map within a stolen artifact—a candle covered in fine filigree gold—from the Nazi war criminal known as the Butcher of Spiegelgrund. From there, Fowler is soon involved in a treasure-hunting expedition to Jordan set up by a reclusive billionaire who has links to the highest levels of the Catholic Church. As the perils of the desert begin to consume the expedition team, a traitor from within patiently awaits his moment to strike.
Touching on current events and political figures, Juan Gómez-Jurado immerses readers in an incredibly realistic world, making the magic and legend of the elusive treasure—the Ark of the Covenant—seem all the more tangible and alluring. This electrifying adventure relentlessly grips readers until the last page is turned.
Discussion Questions
1. Reread the poem “How to Create an Enemy,” by Sam Keen, at the beginning of the book: “Start with an empty canvas . . . The thing you destroy will have become/ merely an enemy of God, an impediment/ to the sacred dialectic of history.” Why do you think Juan Gómez-Jurado chose this poem to open his novel?
2. Although his advanced age would have complicated the extradition process and trial, do you believe that the “Butcher of Spiegelgrund” should have had to answer for his crimes by due process of the law? Or was his sudden demise justified?
3. Orville Watson becomes involved with the Moses Expedition when he is hired to answer a deceptively simple question: “Who is Father Anthony Fowler?” What is your personal response to this question? Do you see Fowler as a hero? Are his actions justified?
4. The novel explores the clash of different identities, whether it be religious groups, race, or gender. It comes as no surprise that Orville Watson is able to amass power by masking his identity using the anonymity of the Internet to his advantage. How do you believe the Internet influences personal identity today?
5. Doctor Harel shares with Andrea Otero that “for Jews a name is very important. It defines a person and it has power over that person” (page 56), thus explaining Harel’s reluctance to reveal her name to strangers. Why do you think this is? What change prompts her to decide to ultimately reveal her name to Andrea toward the end of the novel?
6. The novel explores various father-son relationships: Raymond Kayn and Jacob Russell, Father Fowler and Father Albert, and Kharouf and Nazim. Compare and contrast the dynamics between these three bonds.
7. The Ark of the Covenant is described simply on page 87 as “the most powerful object in the history of mankind.” Power, though, is an abstract concept that can be interpreted differently. What do you think the power of the Ark means to Raymond Kayn? To Jacob Russell? To Father Fowler? To Andrea Otero?
8. Why do you believe it was so critical for Raymond Kayn to incorporate an outspoken member of the media, Andrea Otero, into the expedition? What are the benefits and drawbacks that Kayn must weigh as he makes this decision?
9. To escape a binding situation, Andrea Otero quotes from Schopenhauer: “Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world” (page 114). How do you think this quote relates to the grander conflict between the Arabs and the Israelites in the novel? Do you believe that philosophical and religious questions and issues can be intertwined?
10. What was your personal reaction to the distanced and methodical way the Al-Qaeda Training Manual on page 202 described the technique of killing another human being? Do you believe the language in this manual to be sincere or a form of propaganda?
11. Unlike Kharouf, Nazim was born in the United States and indoctrinated at the age of fourteen. How does this affect the degree of interpretation and perception of Islamic teachings between the two men? What message do you think Juan Gómez-Jurado is conveying when Nazim’s downfall ultimately comes from a manifestation of American culture and materialism: the pair of fluorescent-striped Nikes?
12. Forcefully proclaiming that one does not “have monopoly on Allah’s message” (page 225), Orville Watson demonstrates the power of perception relating to religious teachings. How do various characters in the novel, particularly Father Fowler and Huqan, utilize different perspectives of religious doctrine to justify their ends?
13. On page 261, Professor Forrester reveals that the Ark is actually an electrical condenser. To what degree do you believe that science is able to explain certain supernatural events in religious texts? Can you provide specific examples? Do you believe the timely and climatic simoom to be an act of God or a scientifically justifiable natural occurrence?
14. Despite killing Huqan with one of the tablets containing the Ten Commandments inscribed with “Thou shall not kill,” Father Fowler was ultimately forgiven for his action. Why do you believe this is so?
Enhance Your Book Club
1. The novel makes many references to actual political and historical figures. Discuss with your group which actual political, economic, journalistic, or religious figures Father Fowler, Andrea Otero, and Raymond Kayn most resemble.
2. By introducing the teachings of Schopenhauer, Juan Gómez-Jurado provides a philosophical perspective on the central religious issues in the novel. Research the figure of Schopenhauer. What were his philosophical standpoints? How do these relate to the teachings of Christianity and Islam?
3. On page 131, a list of ancient texts that inspired fruitful real-life expeditions, including Homer’s Iliad and the Ut papyrus, is presented. Research one or two of these texts and discuss the journeys they motivated.
4. The plight of the Jewish people plays an important role in the novel. Incorporating emotionally wrenching historical events such as the night of November 9, 1938—Kristallnacht—into the narrative adds a richer dimension to Juan Gómez-Jurado’s storytelling. As a group, share war or survival stories that grandparents or parents may have passed down from around this time period.
A Conversation with Juan Gómez-Jurado
Q. Where did you encounter Sam Keen’s poem “How to Create an Enemy”? How did this poem serve as a point of inspiration for The Moses Expedition?
A. When I was doing my research for The Moses Expedition, I was very interested in finding out how certain groups criminalized others to obtain political or economic profit. There have been hundreds of examples of this throughout history. For example, the Holocaust. Faces of the Enemy, the amazing essay written by Sam Keen, greatly influenced my writing, and I wanted to honor that by opening my book with his poem.
Q. The Moses Expedition addresses many religious groups; did you have a specific audience in mind when writing this novel?
A. Sensitive human beings are my audience. As you may notice, there is no Manichaeism in The Moses Expedition, just people fighting for their perception of good. Andrea Otero, Raymond Kayn, Huqan, Nazim . . . all of them view themselves as heroes. Maybe the message of this novel is that truth lies within the ability to understand every perspective, something that Western societies—especially the United States—never do.
Q. How did you first decide on the Ark of the Covenant as the central focus for this novel?
A. That question is a natural follow-up to your previous one. There is only one character in The Moses Expedition who doesn’t think of himself as a hero or who acts for his own profit. That is Father Fowler, and obviously he is the hero of this story. His final decision, what he does in the last pages of the novel, is not an easy one.
That said, in an action and mystery thriller like this one, you can usually assume that obtaining a physical object is the goal of the adventure, but not in this case. There are intentionally only glimpses of the Ark in the last pages, and those glimpses come from the light of gunfire. I couldn’t have portrayed a more powerful symbol. Human beings often act stupidly, but there is no action more silly and senseless than killing for your own God.
That’s why the Ark is destroyed at the end, and only one line from the tablet survives: “Thou shall not kill.” That’s what God whispers in our hearts from every corner of Creation, but we are deaf to that.
Q. Could you describe the research process behind this novel?
A. Thousand of miles through the desert, hundreds of books, fifteen days living in Jordan with Bedouin tribes, and a supportive family!
Q. Your description of the plight of the Jewish people during World War II is arresting. What about this period particularly intrigued you?
A. The immense amount of suffering that the Jewish people endured under Nazism is so overwhelming that it can be hard to comprehend. Even a masterpiece as astounding as Schindler’s List can leave you feeling numb, simply because everything is so big. That’s why I decided to personalize this experience with Yudel and his family. His personal hell, reclusion, escape, and rebirth are symbolic and engrossing.
Q. How did you incorporate your own journalism experience with that of Andrea Otero?
A. Do you remember in the beginning of the novel, when Andrea is fired? I’ve been fired a lot for telling the truth. I left these jobs feeling lost, skeptical, and cynical. This is very common in journalism nowadays.
Q. The reclusive billionaire, the outspoken lesbian journalist—these personalities seem familiar in today’s media. Did you have any real-life inspiration behind the characters of Raymond Kayn and Andrea Otero?
A. I’m a lot like Andrea, that’s for sure. As for Raymond Kayn, I think that he is a mix of several real-life characters. My lawyer is telling me to stop writing.
Q. Do you have a favorite character in The Moses Expedition?
A. All of them are my children, but Orville and Andrea are really lovable. He is braver and mightier than he seems, and she, under that clumsy and cynical façade, is a tender and vulnerable young lady.
Q. Your novel God’s Spy sparked many controversial issues in Spain. Did you intend for The Moses Expedition to be a springboard for conversation about moral and ethical issues as well?
A. God’s Spy sparked controversy in Spain because there are a lot of problems with sexual abuse there. But my only intention is for my novels to entertain people. If I wanted to denounce things, I would become an essayist. I write thrillers with explosions and killings and a lot of fun in them. but—and this is a big one—I believe my readers are clever, so I include a lot of food for thought in my stories.
Q. Can you describe some of the difficulties of writing a follow-up to an internationally bestselling novel? Did you learn anything from your previous experience that made writing The Moses Expedition easier?
A. Actually, it was very difficult. I was nervous and scared to the bone. As a result, I tried harder, though, and that is why this is a much better novel. I think that all I learned from the first book was very helpful, but I didn’t realize it then because I was too worried about living up to expectations. Characterization, documentation, plotting, and setting were three times more difficult in The Moses Expedition. But I’m very proud of this book. In fact, the same minute I typed the last line of the novel, “And he was forgiven,” my cell phone rang. It was my wife telling me that she was on her way to the hospital to give birth to our second child! So for us, it was a double blessing and a sign that this book was going to be greater than my first.
Q. Who are some of the thriller writers who inspire you?
A. Almost every one of them is American: Steve Berry, Brad Thor, Douglas Preston, Javier Sierra, Carlos Ruiz Zafón, and Stephen King.
Q. Could you give us a glimpse into your next project?
A. If you enjoyed The Moses Expedition you’ll love my next novel (to be published by Atria Books in 2011). It is a stand-alone book about a young boy in Germany who wants to find out who killed his father. Although on the surface this novel is a thriller filled with Masonry, Nazis, and suspense, there is more to it. This book also shares a love story between a young German boy and a young Jewish American woman, a revenge that spans nineteen years, and a timely tale about the search for identity. All of this is set against the backdrop of the rise of Nazism, from 1919 to 1938.
This novel is based on a true story that occurred in 1941: A Spanish captain rescued four mysterious survivors from a shipwreck in the Mediterranean. They asked to be taken to Portugal, but before parting ways, one of them gave the captain a gold emblem that was recently discovered to be worth one million dollars.
