达芬奇密码 作者: 美 丹·布朗(英文版)-第22章

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oom？　A　woman　was　moving　through　the　darkness；　walking　briskly　toward　the　far　left　wall。　In　front　of　her；　a　purplish　beam　of　light　swung　back　and　forth　across　the　floor；　as　if　she　were　searching　for　something　with　a　colored　flashlight。
〃Qui　est　là？〃　Grouard　demanded；　feeling　his　adrenaline　spike　for　a　second　time　in　the　last　thirty　seconds。　He　suddenly　didn't　know　where　to　aim　his　gun　or　what　direction　to　move。
〃PTS；〃　the　woman　replied　calmly；　still　scanning　the　floor　with　her　light。
Police　Technique　et　Scientifique。　Grouard　was　sweating　now。　I　thought　all　the　agents　were　gone！　He　now　recognized　the　purple　light　as　ultraviolet；　consistent　with　a　PTS　team；　and　yet　he　could　not　understand　why　DCPJ　would　be　looking　for　evidence　in　here。
〃Votre　nom！〃　Grouard　yelled；　instinct　telling　him　something　was　amiss。　〃Répondez！〃
〃C'est　mot；〃　the　voice　responded　in　calm　French。　〃Sophie　Neveu。〃
Somewhere　in　the　distant　recesses　of　Grouard's　mind；　the　name　registered。　Sophie　Neveu？　That　was　the　name　of　Saunière's　granddaughter；　wasn't　it？　She　used　to　e　in　here　as　a　little　kid；　but　that　was　years　ago。　This　couldn't　possibly　be　her！　And　even　if　it　were　Sophie　Neveu；　that　was　hardly　a　reason　to　trust　her；　Grouard　had　heard　the　rumors　of　the　painful　falling…out　between　Saunière　and　his　granddaughter。
〃You　know　me；〃　the　woman　called。　〃And　Robert　Langdon　did　not　kill　my　grandfather。　Believe　me。〃
Warden　Grouard　was　not　about　to　take　that　on　faith。　I　need　backup！　Trying　his　walkie…talkie　again；　he　got　only　static。　The　entrance　was　still　a　good　twenty　yards　behind　him；　and　Grouard　began　backing　up　slowly；　choosing　to　leave　his　gun　trained　on　the　man　on　the　floor。　As　Grouard　inched　backward；　he　could　see　the　woman　across　the　room　raising　her　UV　light　and　scrutinizing　a　large　painting　that　hung　on　the　far　side　of　the　Salle　des　Etats；　directly　opposite　the　Mona　Lisa。
Grouard　gasped；　realizing　which　painting　it　was。
What　in　the　name　of　God　is　she　doing？
　
Across　the　room；　Sophie　Neveu　felt　a　cold　sweat　breaking　across　her　forehead。　Langdon　was　still　spread…eagle　on　the　floor。　Hold　on；　Robert。　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　Da　Vinci。　But　the　UV　light　revealed　nothing　out　of　the　ordinary。　Not　on　the　floor；　on　the　walls；　or　even　on　the　canvas　itself。
There　must　be　something　here！
Sophie　felt　totally　certain　she　had　deciphered　her　grandfather's　intentions　correctly。
What　else　could　he　possibly　intend？
The　masterpiece　she　was　examining　was　a　five…foot…tall　canvas。　The　bizarre　scene　Da　Vinci　had　painted　included　an　awkwardly　posed　Virgin　Mary　sitting　with　Baby　Jesus；　John　the　Baptist；　and　the　Angel　Uriel　on　a　perilous　outcropping　of　rocks。　When　Sophie　was　a　little　girl；　no　trip　to　the　Mona　Lisa　had　been　plete　without　her　grandfather　dragging　her　across　the　room　to　see　this　second　painting。
Grand…père；　I'm　here！　But　I　don't　see　it！
Behind　her；　Sophie　could　hear　the　guard　trying　to　radio　again　for　help。
Think！
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　not　on　the　front。　Her　eyes　shot　upward；　climbing　the　long　cables　that　dangled　from　the　ceiling　to　support　the　canvas。
Could　that　be　it？　Grabbing　the　left　side　of　the　carved　wood　frame；　she　pulled　it　toward　her。　The　painting　was　large　and　the　backing　flexed　as　she　swung　it　away　from　the　wall。　Sophie　slipped　her　head　and　shoulders　in　behind　the　painting　and　raised　the　black　light　to　inspect　the　back。
It　took　only　seconds　to　realize　her　instinct　had　been　wrong。　The　back　of　the　painting　was　pale　and　blank。　There　was　no　purple　text　here；　only　the　mottled　brown　backside　of　aging　canvas　and—
Wait。
Sophie's　eyes　locked　on　an　incongruous　glint　of　lustrous　metal　lodged　near　the　bottom　edge　of　the　frame's　wooden　armature。　The　object　was　small；　partially　wedged　in　the　slit　where　the　canvas　met　the　frame。　A　shimmering　gold　chain　dangled　off　it。
To　Sophie's　utter　amazement；　the　chain　was　affixed　to　a　familiar　gold　key。　The　broad；　sculpted　head　was　in　the　shape　of　a　cross　and　bore　an　engraved　seal　she　had　not　seen　since　she　was　nine　years　old。　A　fleur…de…lis　with　the　initials　P。S。　In　that　instant；　Sophie　felt　the　ghost　of　her　grandfather　whispering　in　her　ear。　When　the　time　es；　the　key　will　be　yours。　A　tightness　gripped　her　throat　as　she　realized　that　her　grandfather；　even　in　death；　had　kept　his　promise。　This　key　opens　a　box；　his　voice　was　saying；　where　I　keep　many　secrets。
Sophie　now　realized　that　the　entire　purpose　of　tonight's　word　game　had　been　this　key。　Her　grandfather　had　it　with　him　when　he　was　killed。　Not　wanting　it　to　fall　into　the　hands　of　the　police；　he　hid　it　behind　this　painting。　Then　he　devised　an　ingenious　treasure　hunt　to　ensure　only　Sophie　would　find　it。
〃Au　secours！〃　the　guard's　voice　yelled。
Sophie　snatched　the　key　from　behind　the　painting　and　slipped　it　deep　in　her　pocket　along　with　the　UV　penlight。　Peering　out　from　behind　the　canvas；　she　could　see　the　guard　was　still　trying　desperately　to　raise　someone　on　the　walkie…talkie。　He　was　backing　toward　the　entrance；　still　aiming　the　gun　firmly　at　Langdon。
〃Au　secours！〃　he　shouted　again　into　his　radio。
Static。
He　can't　transmit；　Sophie　realized；　recalling　that　tourists　with　cell　phones　often　got　frustrated　in　here　when　they　tried　to　call　home　to　brag　about　seeing　the　Mona　Lisa。　The　extra　surveillance　wiring　in　the　walls　made　it　virtually　impossible　to　get　a　carrier　unless　you　stepped　out　into　the　hall。　The　guard　was　backing　quickly　toward　the　exit　now；　and　Sophie　knew　she　had　to　act　immediately。
Gazing　up　at　the　large　painting　behind　which　she　was　partially　ensconced；　Sophie　realized　that　Leonardo　da　Vinci；　for　the　second　time　tonight；　was　there　to　help。
　
Another　few　meters；　Grouard　told　himself；　keeping　his　gun　leveled。
〃Arrêtez！　Ou　je　la　détruis！〃　the　woman's　voice　echoed　across　the　room。
Grouard　glanced　over　and　stopped　in　his　tracks。　〃Mon　dieu；　non！〃
Through　the　reddish　haze；　he　could　see　that　the　woman　had　actually　lifted　the　large　painting　off　its　cables　and　propped　it　on　the　floor　in　front　of　her。　At　five　feet　tall；　the　canvas　almost　entirely　hid　her　body。　Grouard's　first　thought　was　to　wonder　why　the　painting's　trip　wires　hadn't　set　off　alarms；　but　of　course　the　artwork　cable　sensors　had　yet　to　be　reset　tonight。　What　is　she　doing！
When　he　saw　it；　his　blood　went　cold。
The　canvas　started　to　bulge　in　the　middle；　the　fragile　outlines　of　the　Virgin　Mary；　Baby　Jesus；　and　John　the　Baptist　beginning　to　distort。
〃Non！〃　Grouard　screamed；　frozen　in　horror　as　he　watched　the　priceless　Da　Vinci　stretching。　The　woman　was　pushing　her　knee　into　the　center　of　the　canvas　from　behind！　〃NON！〃
Grouard　wheeled　and　aimed　his　gun　at　her　but　instantly　realized　it　was　an　empty　threat。　The　canvas　was　only　fabric；　but　it　was　utterly　impenetrable—a　six…million…dollar　piece　of　body　armor。
I　can't　put　a　bullet　through　a　Da　Vinci！
〃Set　down　your　gun　and　radio；〃　the　woman　said　in　calm　French；　〃or　I'll　put　my　knee　through　this　painting。　I　think　you　know　how　my　grandfather　would　feel　about　that。〃
Grouard　felt　dizzy。　〃Please。。。　no。　That's　Madonna　of　the　Rocks！〃　He　dropped　his　gun　and　radio；　raising　his　hands　over　his　head。
〃Thank　you；〃　the　woman　said。　〃Now　do　exactly　as　I　tell　you；　and　everything　will　work　out　fine。〃
　
Moments　later；　Langdon's　pulse　was　still　thundering　as　he　ran　beside　Sophie　down　the　emergency　stairwell　toward　the　ground　level。　Neither　of　them　had　said　a　word　since　leaving　the　trembling　Louvre　guard　lying　in　the　Salle　des　Etats。　The　guard's　pistol　was　now　clutched　tightly　in　Langdon's　hands；　and　he　couldn't　wait　to　get　rid　of　it。　The　weapon　felt　heavy　and　dangerously　foreign。
Taking　the　stairs　two　at　a　time；　Langdon　wondered　if　Sophie　had　any　idea　how　valuable　a　painting　she　had　almost　ruined。　Her　choice　in　art　seemed　eerily　pertinent　to　tonight's　adventure。　The　Da　Vinci　she　had　grabbed；　much　like　the　Mona　Lisa；　was　notorious　among　art　historians　for　its　plethora　of　hidden　pagan　symbolism。
〃You　chose　a　valuable　hostage；〃　he　said　as　they　ran。
〃Madonna　of　the　Rocks；〃　she　replied。　〃But　I　didn't　choose　it；　my　grandfather　did。　He　left　me　a　little　something　behind　the　painting。〃
Langdon　shot　her　a　startled　look。　〃What！？　But　how　did　you　know　which　painting？　Why　Madonna　of　the　Rocks？〃
〃So　dark　the　con　of　man。〃　She　flashed　a　triumphant　smile。　〃I　missed　the　first　two　anagrams；　Robert。　I　wasn't　about　to　miss　the　third。〃
　
CHAPTER　31

〃They're　dead！〃　Sister　Sandrine　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；　as　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　Sandrine　did　not　know　the　identities　of　the　four　men　she　protected；　but　the　private　phone　numbers　stashed　beneath　her　bed　were　for　use　on　only　one　condition。
If　that　floor　panel　is　ever　broken；　the　faceless　messenger　had　told　her；　it　means　the　upper　echelon　has　been　breached。　One　of　us　has　been　mortally　threatened　and　been　forced　to　tell　a　desperate　lie。　Call　the　numbers。　Warn　the　others。　Do　not　fail　us　in　this。
It　was　a　silent　alarm。　Foolproof　in　its　simplicity。　The　plan　had　amazed　her　when　she　first　heard　it。　If　the　identity　of　one　brother　was　promised；　he　could　tell　a　lie　that　would　start　in　motion　a　mechanism　to　warn　the　others。　Tonight；　however；　it　seemed　that　more　than　one　had　been　promised。
〃Please　answer；〃　she　whispered　in　fear。　〃Where　are　you？〃
〃Hang　up　the　phone；〃　a　deep　voice　said　from　the　doorway。
Turning　in　terror；　she　saw　the　massive　monk。　He　was　clutching　the　heavy　iron　candle　stand。　Shaking；　she　set　the　phone　back　in　the　cradle。
〃They　are　dead；〃　the　monk　said。　〃All　four　of　them。　And　they　have　played　me　for　a　fool。　Tell　me　where　the　keystone　is。〃
〃I　don't　know！〃　Sister　Sandrine　said　truthfully。　〃That　secret　is　guarded　by　others。〃　Others　who　are　dead！
The　man　advanced；　his　white　fists　gripping　the　iron　stand。　〃You　are　a　sister　of　the　Church；　and　yet　you　serve　them？〃
〃Jesus　had　but　one　true　message；〃　Sister　Sandrine　said　defiantly。　〃I　cannot　see　that　message　in　Opus　Dei。〃
A　sudden　explosion　of　rage　erupted　behind　the　monk's　eyes。　He　lunged；　lashing　out　with　the　candle　stand　like　a　club。　As　Sister　Sandrine　fell；　her　last　feeling　was　an　overwhelming　sense　of　foreboding。
All　four　are　dead。
The　precious　truth　is　lost　forever。
　
CHAPTER　32

The　security　alarm　on　the　west　end　of　the　Denon　Wing　sent　the　pigeons　in　the