The manager answered. "Oui?""We have a situation down here.""What's happening?" The manager demanded."The French Police are tracking two fugitives tonight.""So?""Both of them just walked into our bank.""The manger cursed quietly. "Okay, I'll contact Monsieur Alexandra immediately."The guard then hung up and placed a second call. This one to Interpol.Jim was surprised to feel the elevator dropping rather than climbing. He had no idea how many floors they had descended beneath the Depository Bank of Zurich before the door finally opened. He didn't care. He was happy to be out of the elevator.Displaying impressive alacrity, a host was already standing there to greet them. He was elderly and pleasant, wearing a neatly pressed flannel suit that made him look oddly out of place - an old-world banker in a high-tech world. "Bonsoir," the man said. "Good evening. Would you be so kind to follow me, s'il vous plait? Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and strode briskl
Fombellida Alexandra - president of the Paris branch of the Depository Bank of Zurich - lived in a lavish flat above the bank. Despite his plush accommodations, he had always dreamed of owning a Riverside apartment on L'lle Saint-Louis, where he could rub shoulders with the true cognoscenti, rather than here, where he simply met the filthy rich.When I retire, Alexandra told himself, I will fill my cellar with rare Bordeaux, adorn my salon with a Fragonard and perhaps a Boucher, and spend my days hunting for antique furniture and rare books in the Quartier Latin. Tonight, Alexandra had been awake only six and a half minutes. Even so, as he hurried through the bank's underground corridor, he looked as if his personal tailor and hairdresser had polished him to a fine sheen. Impeccably dressed in a silk suit, Alexandra sprayed some breath spray in his mouth and tightened his tie as he walked. No stranger to being awoken to attend to his international clients arriving from differen
"The police are blocking the streets," Fombellida Alexandra said, walking into the waiting room. "Getting you out will be difficult." As he closed the door behind him, Alexandra saw the heavy-duty case on the conveyor belt and halted in his tracks. Jim and Sophie were at the table, huddling over what looked to be a large wooden jewelry box. Sophie immediately closed the lid and looked up. " Turns out we had the account all this while," she said. Alexandra was bewildered. This changed everything. He respectfully diverted his eyes from the box and tried to plan his next move. Thinking how to get them out of the bank safely. He could imagine only one way to do that. "Mademoiselle McEwan, if I can get you safely out of the bank, will you be taking the item with you or returning it to the vault before you leave?"Jim suggested, "we need to take it."Alexandra nodded. "Very well. Then whatever the item is, I suggest you wrap it up in your coat as we move through the hallways. I would
Amorth lay down on the canvas mat in his room, allowing the lash wound on his back to clot in the air. Tonight's second session with the Discipline had left him weak. He had yet to remove the Cilice belt, and he could feel the blood trickling down his inner thigh. Still, he could not justify removing the strap. When Myositis described the opportunity that had presented itself, Amorth knew it could only be the hand of God at work. Myositis put Amorth in contact with the man who had proposed the plan - a man who called himself the Teacher. Although the Teacher and Amorth never met face-to-face, each time they spoke by phone, Amorth was awed, both by the profundity of the Teacher's faith and by the scope of his power. The Teacher seemed to be a man who knew all, a man with eyes and ears in all places. How the Teacher gathered his information was a mystery to Amorth, but Myositis had placed enormous trust in the Teacher, and he had told Amorth to do the same. "Do as the Teacher commands y
Fombellida Alexandra looked awkward with a pistol, but his eyes shone with a determination that Jim sensed would be unwise to test. "I'm afraid I must insist," Alexandra said, training the weapon on the two of them in the back of the idling truck. "Keep the box down." Sophie clutched the box to her chest. "You said you and my grandfather were friends.""I have a duty to protect your grandfather's assets," Alexandra replied. "And that is exactly what I am doing. Now keep the box on the floor.""My grandfather entrusted this to me!" Sophie declared."Do it," Alexandra commanded, raising the gun.Sophie kept the box at her feet.Jim watched the gun barrel swing now in his direction."Mr. Jim," Alexandra said, "you will bring the box over to me. And be that I will not hesitate to shoot you, if you try to act finally."Jim stared at the banker in disbelief. "Why are you doing this?""Why do you think so?" Alexandra snapped, his accented English terse now. "To protect my client's asse
As the unmarked Honda Accord departed Castel Gandolfo, sneaking downward through the Alban Hills Into the Valley below. In the back seat, Myositis smiled, feeling the weight of the bearer bonds in the briefcase on his lap and wondering how long it would take before he and Teacher could make the exchange. The sum would buy Myositis power far more valuable than that. As his car sped back toward Rome, he found himself wondering why the Teacher had not yet contacted him. Pulling his cell phone from his cassock pocket, he checked the carrier signal. Extremely faint. "Cellular service is intermittent up here," the driver said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "In a few minutes, we'll be out of the mountains, and service improves." "Thank you." Myositis felt a sudden surge of concern. Maybe the Teacher had been trying to reach him all this time. Maybe something had gone terribly wrong. Quickly, he checked his phone's voicemail. Nothing. Then again, he realized, the Teacher never
The night manager of the Depository Bank of Zurich felt relieved to hear the bank president's voice on the phone. "Where did you go sir? The police are here, everyone is waiting for you!" "I had a little problem," the bank president said, sounding distressed. "I need your help right away."The police had entirely surrounded the bank and were threatening to have the judicial police captain show up with the warrant the bank had demanded. "How can I help you, sir?"Truck number three. I need to find it."Puzzled, the manager checked his delivery schedule. "It's here. Downstairs at the holding dock.""Actually, no. The truck was stolen by two individuals the police are tracking.""What? How did they drive out?""I can't go into details on the phone, but we have a situation here that could potentially be extremely unfortunate for the bank.""What do you need me to do, sir?""I'd like you to activate the truck's tracker." The night manager's eyes moved to the control box across the r
Standing at the roadblock outside the Depository Bank. Lieutenant Suslowicz wondered what was taking Romano so long to come up with the search warrant. The bankers were obviously hiding something. They claimed Davis and McEwan had arrived earlier and were turned away from the bank because they did not have proper Account identification. So why won't they let us inside for a look?Finally, Suslowicz's cellular phone rang. It was the command post at the Louvre. "Do we have a search warrant yet?" Suslowicz demanded."Forget about the bank, Lieutenant," the agent told him. "We just got a tip. We have the exact location where Davis and McEwan are hiding."Suslowicz sat down hard on the hood of his car. "You're kidding.""I have an address in the suburbs. Somewhere near Sunnyvales.""Does captain Romano know?""Not yet. He's busy on an important call.""I'm on my way. Have him call as soon as possible." Suslowicz took down the address and jumped in his car. As he peeled off from the bank, S
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