“And that’s why the prisoners of Jerusalem created the floor painting inside the Domus Aurea,” she continued. “They wanted a map of first-century Jerusalem to stay in the hands of Josephus’s descendants.” “And I believe it has,” Orvieti said. “But the map in the Domus Aurea was too damaged to read,” Emili said. “And you said all of the other Napoleonic-era sketches were stolen by the grand mufti.” “It was not passed down to us as a sketch. It was too important.” Jonathan and Emili exchanged looks. “Then how do you still have the map?” “I believe it was painted as a mural in the synagogue on the other side of the Portico di Ottavia,” Orvieti said. “Signore,” Emili said gently, “there are no synagogues left in the Ghetto other than this one.” “It is still there across the street,” Orvieti said. “Beneath the Ghetto.” “Beneath?” Emili and Jonathan chorused. “This area of Rome along the Tiber was twenty feet lower than it is today. In 1872, the pope raised the level of the Jewish Ghetto.
