Sophie arrived breathless outside the large wooden doors of the Salle des Etats - the room that housed the Mona Lisa. Before entering, she gazed reluctantly farther down the hall, twenty yards or so, to the spot where her grandfather's body Still lay under the spotlight.The remorse that gripped her was powerful and sudden, a deep sadness laced with guilt. The man had reached out to her so many times over the past ten years, and yet Sophie had remained immovable - leaving his letters packages unopened in a bottom drawer and denying his efforts to see her. He lied to me! Kept appalling secrets! What was I supposed to do? And so she had blocked him out. Completely.Now her grandfather was dead, and he was talking to her from the grave.The Mona Lisa.She reached for huge wooden doors, and pushed. The entryway yawned open. Sophie stood on the threshold a moment, scanning the large rectangular chamber beyond. It too was bathed in a soft red light. The Salle des Etats was one of the museum
Amorth gazed upward at the Saint-Sulpice obelisk, taking in the length of the massive marble shaft. His sinews felt taunt with exhilaration. He glanced around the church one more time to make sure he was alone. Then he knelt at the base of the structure, not out of reverence, but out of necessity. The cruciform key is hidden beneath the Rose Line. At the base of the Sulpice obelisk. All the brothers had concurred.On his knees now, Silas ran his hands across the stone floor. He saw no cracks or markings to indicate a movable tile, so he began rapping softly with his knuckles on the floor. Following the brass line closer to the obelisk, he knocked on each tile adjacent to the brass line. Finally, one of them echoed strangely. There's a hollow area beneath the floor!Amorth smiled. His victims had spoken the truth.Standing, he search the sanctuary for something with which to break the floor tile.High above Amorth, in the balcony, Sister Rosaria stifled a gasp. Her darkest fears had ju
Jim, now having made it clear to Sophie that he has no intention of leaving, moved with her across the Salle des Etats. The Mona Lisa was still twenty yards ahead when Sophie turned on the back light. And the bluish crescent of penlight fanned out on the floor in front of them. She swung the beam back and forth across the floor like a minesweeper, searching for any hint of luminescent ink. Walking beside her, Jim was already feeling the tingle of anticipation that accompanied his face-to-face reunions with great works of art. He strained to see beyond the cocoon of purplish light emanating from the black light in Sophie's hand. To the left, the room's octagonal viewing divan emerged, looking like a dark island on the empty sea of parquet.Jim could now begin to see the panel of dark glass on the wall. Behind it, he knew, in the confines of her own private cell, hung the most celebrated painting in the world.The Mona Lisa's status as the most famous piece of art in the world, Jim
Inside the Salle des Etats, Jim stared in astonishment at the six words glowing on the plexiglas. The text seemed to hover in space, casting a jagged shadow across Mona Lisa's mysterious smile."The Priory," Jim whispered. "This proves your grandfather was a member!"Sophie looked at him in confusion. "You understand this?""It's flawless," Jim said, nodding as his thoughts churned. "It's a proclamation of one of the Priory's most fundamental philosophies!"Sophie looked baffled in the glow of the message scrawled across the Mona Lisa's face. Her expression remained uncertain. "My grandfather sent me to this spot to find this. He must be trying to tell me more than that."Jim understood her meaning. Whether a hidden meaning existed here or not, Jim could not immediately say. His mind was still grappling with the bold clarity of Esquibel's outward message."Jim!" Sophie said, her whisper yanking him back. "Someone's coming!"He heard the approaching footsteps out in the hallway."Over
Across the room, Sophie McEwan felt a Cold sweat breaking across her forehead. Jim was still spread-eagle on the floor. Hold on, Jim. Almost there. Knowing the guard would never actually shoot either of them, Sophie now turned her attention back to the Matter at hand, scanning the entire area around one masterpiece in particular - another Day Vinci. But the UV light revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Not on the floor, on the walls, or even on the canvas itself. Sophie felt totally certain she had deciphered her grandfather's intentions correctly. The masterpiece she was examining was a five-foot-tall canvas. Behind her Sophie could hear the guard trying to radio again for help. She pictured the message scrawled on the protective glass of the Mona Lisa. So dark the con of man. The painting before her had no protective glass on which to write a message, and Sophie knew her grandfather would never have defaced this masterpiece by writing on the painting itself. She paused. At least no
"They're all dead! Sister Rosaria stammered into the telephone in her Saint-Sulpice residence. She was leaving a message on an answering machine. "Please pick up! They're all dead!" The first three phone numbers on the list had produced terrifying results - a hysterical widow, a detective working late at a murder scene, and a somber priest consoling a bereaved family. All three contacts were dead. And now, she called the fourth and final number - the number she was not supposed to call unless the first three could not be reached - she got an answering machine. The outgoing message offered no name but simply asked the caller to leave a message."The floor panel has been broken!" She pleaded as she left the message. "The other three are dead!" Sister Rosaria did not know the identities of the four men she protected, but the private phone numbers stashed beneath her bed were for use only on one condition.The faceless messenger had told her that if the floor panel was to be broken
Sophie's SmartCar tore through the diplomatic quarter, weaving past embassies and consulates, finally racing out a side street and taking a right turn back onto the massive thoroughfare of Champs-Elysées. Jim sat white-knuckled in the passenger seat, twisted backward, scanning behind them for any signs of the police. He suddenly wished he had not decided to run. You didn't, he reminded himself. Sophie had made the decision for him when she threw the tracking device out the bathroom window. Now, as they sped away from the embassy, serpentining through the sparse traffic on Champs-Elysées, Jim felt his options deteriorating. Although Sophie seemed to have lost the police, at least for the moment, Jim doubted their luck would hold for long.Behind the wheel Sophie was fishing in her sweater pocket. She removed a small metal object and held it out for him. "Jim, you'd better have a look at this. This is what my grandfather left me.Feeling a shiver of anticipation, Jim took the object and
The driver who collected Bishop Myositis from Leonardo da Vinci International Airport pulled up in a small, unimpressive navy blue Honda Accord. Building his black cassock around himself, Myositis claimed into the back seat and settled in for the long drive to Castel Gandolfo. It would be the same ride he had taken five months ago. Now, seated in the Honda, Bishop Myositis realized his fist was clenched just thinking about his first meeting. He released his grip and focused on a slow inhalation, relaxing his muscles.Telling himself that everything will turn out great as the Honda wound higher into the mountains. Still, he wished his cell phone would ring. Wondering why the Teacher hasn't called him. Amorth should have the Cruciform key by now.Trying to ease his nerves, the bishop meditated on the purple amethyst in his ring. Feeling the texture of the mitre-crozier appliqué and the facets of the diamonds. He reminded himself that this ring was a symbol of power far less than that w
Jason was receiving an award for his book that he'd published and Jimmy was in the city, so he did the best thing he could before running off to Florence. It has been a long time since he'd been around but the event that had unfolded recently had taught him to spend more time with family. Encaenia took place in the Sheldonian - a long and rambling ceremony conducted in Latin for six distinguished persons though, in Lola's mind, this was a celebration mainly for Jason. At last, he was receiving the recognition he deserved. After the ceremony, she stood and watched him with pride as he mingled with guests. She had met Jason briefly before the ceremony and they had hugged, but hardly spoken; too many people and not enough time. She thought at first that it was perhaps the way it should be, with no time for sentimentalism, but no, she decided that it was not the way it should be. They needed more time. "Do you know all these people?" Malik whispered."No." Lola shook her head, even tho
Night had fallen over Shekina. Jimmy stood alone on the porch of the fieldstone house enjoying the sounds of laughter and reunion drifting through the screened door behind him. The mug of coffee in his hand had granted him hazy reprieve from his mounting exhaustion, and yet he sensed the reprieve would be fleeting. The fatigue in his body went to the core. "You slipped out quietly," a voice behind said.He turned. McEwan's grandmother emerged, her silver hair shimmering in the night. Jimmy gave a tired smile. "I thought I'd give your family some time together." Through the window, he could see McEwan talking with her brother. Sophie's grandmother came beside him. "Mr. Jim, when I first heard of Esquibel's murder, I was terrified for McEwan's sake. Seeing her standing in my doorway tonight was the greatest relief of my life. I cannot thank you enough."Jimmy had no idea how to respond. Although he had offered to give McEwan and her grandmother time to talk in private, she had asked
"Davis?" McEwan was standing outside the car, looking back at him. "Are you coming?" She was holding the rosewood box, which captain Romano had returned to them. Inside, both cryptex had been reassembled and nested as they had been found. The verse was locked safely at its core - minus the shattered vessel of vinegar.Making their way up the long gravel path, Jimmy and McEwan passed the famous west Wall of the chapel. Casual visitors assumed this oddly protruding wall was a section of the chapel that had not been finished. The truth, Jimmy recalled, was far more intriguing. Shekina chapel's entrance was more modest than Jimmy expected. The small wooden door had two iron hinges. The chapel would be closing soon, and as Jimmy pulled open the door, a warm puff of air escaped, as if the ancient edifice were having a weary sigh at the end of a long day. Entering with McEwan, Jimmy felt his eyes reaching across the famous sanctuary and taking it all in. Although he had read accounts of She
The mist had settled low as Amorth limped into a quiet hollow out of sight. Kneeling on the wet grass, he could feel a warm stream of blood flowing from the bullet wound below his ribs. Still, he managed.The fog made it look like heaven here.Raising his bloody hands, he prayed, but most importantly he prayed for his mentor… Myositis… that he would not fade with the sands of time. The fog was swirling around him now, and Amorth felt so light that he was sure the wisps would carry him away. Closing his eyes, he said a final prayer.His pains at last began to fade, and he knew Myositis was right. It was late afternoon when the London sun broke through and the city began to dry. Andrie Romano felt weary as he emerged from the interrogation room and hailed a cab. Sir Albert Rodriguez had noisily proclaimed his innocence, and yet from his loose ranting about the Archstone, secret documents, and mysterious brotherhood, Roman suspected the sly historian was setting the stage for his lawye
Myositis's body had endured many kinds of pain, and yet the searing heat of the bullet wound in his chest felt profoundly foreign to him. Deep and grave. Not a wound of the flesh… but closer to the soul. He opened his eyes, trying to see, but the rain on his face buried his vision. He could feel powerful arms holding him, carrying his limp body like a rag doll, his black cassock flapping. Lifting a weary arm, he mopped his eyes and saw the man holding him was Amorth. He was struggling down a sidewalk, shouting for a hospital, his voice a heart-rending wail of agony. His red eyes were focused dead ahead, tears streaming down his face. "My son," Myositis whispered, "you're hurt." Amorth glanced down, his visage contorted in anguish. "I am sorry sorry, Father." He seemed almost too pained to speak. "No," Myositis replied. "It is I who am sorry. This is my fault. I was too eager. Too fearful. You and I were deceived." Myositis was unconscious when the doors of St Luke's hospital hiss
Jimmy and McEwan moved slowly down the north aisle, keeping the shadows behind the ample pillars that separated it from the open nave. Despite having traveled more than halfway down the nave, they still had no clear view of the tomb. The sarcophagus was recessed in a niche, obscured from this oblique angle."At least there's nobody over there," McEwan whispered.Jimmy nodded, relieved. The entire section of the nave near Klaus' tomb was deserted. "I'll go over," he whispered. "You should stay hidden just in case someone-"McEwan had already stepped from the shadows and was headed across the open floor."-is watching," Jimmy sighed, hurrying to join her.Crossing the massive nave on a diagonal, Jimmy and McEwan remained silent as the elaborate sepulcher revealed itself in Tantalus increments… a black-marble sarcophagus… a reclining statue of Klaus… two winged boys… a huge pyramid… and… an enormous orb."Did you know about that?" McEwan said, sounding startled.Jimmy shook his head, als
Jimmy had not gotten his eyes off the computer screen since the search began. He was starting to get worried.Anita Istredd was in the adjoining room, preparing hot drinks. Jimmy and Sophie had inquired unwisely if there might be some coffee brewing alongside the tea Istredd had offered, and from the sound of the microwave beeps in the next room, Jimmy suspected their request was about to be rewarded with instant Nescafe.Finally, the computer pinged happily."Sounds like you got another," Istredd called from the next room. "What does it say?"Jimmy looked at the screen, disappointed.They sat patiently in front of the screen and waited through two more dubious returns. When the computer pinged again, nothing interesting happened.Istredd peeked back in the doorway, holding a packet of instant coffee. "You don't want the full text," Istredd called. "Click on the hypertext title. The computer will display your keyword hits along with mono prelogs and triple post logs for context."Jim
Copus peccate's headquarter in London is a modest brick building. Amorth had never been here, but he felt a rising sense of refuge and asylum as he approached the building on foot. Despite the rain, Beardsley had dropped him off a short distance away in order to keep the limousine off the main Streets. Amorth didn't mind the walk. The rain was cleansing.At Beardsley's suggestion, Amorth had wiped down his gun and dispose of it through the sewer grate. He was glad to get rid of it. He felt lighter. His legs still ache from being bound all the time, but he had endured far greater pain. He wondered, though, about Rodriguez, who Beardsley had left bound in the back of the limousine. The Briton certainly had to be feeling pain by now."What will you do with him?" Amorth had asked Beardsley as they drove over here.Beardsley had shrugged. "That is a decision the Teacher would make." There was an odd finality in his tone.Now, as Amorth approached the building, the rain began to fall harder
Jimmy still felt shaken as he and McEwan came from the rain and entered the library. The primary research room was as Rodriguez had described it - a dramatic octagonal chamber dominated by an enormous round table with twelve flat-screen computer workstations. On the far side of the room, a reference librarian was just pouring a pot of tea and settling in for the day of work. "Good morning," she said in a beautiful British accent, leaving the tea and walking over. "May I help you?""Thank you, yes please," Jimmy replied. "My name is-""Jimmy Davis." She gave a pleasant smile. "I know who you are."For instance, he feared Romano had put him on English television as well, but the librarian's smile suggested otherwise. Jimmy had not gotten used to these moments of unexpected celebrity. Then again, if anyone on earth were going to recognize his face, it would be a Librium in a religious studies reference facility."Anita Istredd," the librarian said, offering her hand. She had a friend