达芬奇密码 作者: 美 丹·布朗(英文版)-第23章

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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　nearby　Tuileries　Gardens　scattering　as　Langdon　and　Sophie　dashed　out　of　the　bulkhead　into　the　Paris　night。　As　they　ran　across　the　plaza　to　Sophie's　car；　Langdon　could　hear　police　sirens　wailing　in　the　distance。
〃That's　it　there；〃　Sophie　called；　pointing　to　a　red　snub…nosed　two…seater　parked　on　the　plaza。
She's　kidding；　right？　The　vehicle　was　easily　the　smallest　car　Langdon　had　ever　seen。
〃SmartCar；〃　she　said。　〃A　hundred　kilometers　to　the　liter。〃
Langdon　had　barely　thrown　himself　into　the　passenger　seat　before　Sophie　gunned　the　SmartCar　up　and　over　a　curb　onto　a　gravel　divider。　He　gripped　the　dash　as　the　car　shot　out　across　a　sidewalk　and　bounced　back　down　over　into　the　small　rotary　at　Carrousel　du　Louvre。
For　an　instant；　Sophie　seemed　to　consider　taking　the　shortcut　across　the　rotary　by　plowing　straight　ahead；　through　the　median's　perimeter　hedge；　and　bisecting　the　large　circle　of　grass　in　the　center。
〃No！〃　Langdon　shouted；　knowing　the　hedges　around　Carrousel　du　Louvre　were　there　to　hide　the　perilous　chasm　in　the　center—La　Pyramide　Inversée—the　upside…down　pyramid　skylight　he　had　seen　earlier　from　inside　the　museum。　It　was　large　enough　to　swallow　their　Smart…Car　in　a　single　gulp。　Fortunately；　Sophie　decided　on　the　more　conventional　route；　jamming　the　wheel　hard　to　the　right；　circling　properly　until　she　exited；　cut　left；　and　swung　into　the　northbound　lane；　accelerating　toward　Rue　de　Rivoli。
The　two…tone　police　sirens　blared　louder　behind　them；　and　Langdon　could　see　the　lights　now　in　his　side　view　mirror。　The　SmartCar　engine　whined　in　protest　as　Sophie　urged　it　faster　away　from　the　Louvre。　Fifty　yards　ahead；　the　traffic　light　at　Rivoli　turned　red。　Sophie　cursed　under　her　breath　and　kept　racing　toward　it。　Langdon　felt　his　muscles　tighten。
〃Sophie？〃
Slowing　only　slightly　as　they　reached　the　intersection；　Sophie　flicked　her　headlights　and　stole　a　quick　glance　both　ways　before　flooring　the　accelerator　again　and　carving　a　sharp　left　turn　through　the　empty　intersection　onto　Rivoli。　Accelerating　west　for　a　quarter　of　a　mile；　Sophie　banked　to　the　right　around　a　wide　rotary。　Soon　they　were　shooting　out　the　other　side　onto　the　wide　avenue　of　Champs…Elysées。
As　they　straightened　out；　Langdon　turned　in　his　seat；　craning　his　neck　to　look　out　the　rear　window　toward　the　Louvre。　The　police　did　not　seem　to　be　chasing　them。　The　sea　of　blue　lights　was　assembling　at　the　museum。
His　heartbeat　finally　slowing；　Langdon　turned　back　around。　〃That　was　interesting。〃
Sophie　didn't　seem　to　hear。　Her　eyes　remained　fixed　ahead　down　the　long　thoroughfare　of　Champs…Elysées；　the　two…mile　stretch　of　posh　storefronts　that　was　often　called　the　Fifth　Avenue　of　Paris。　The　embassy　was　only　about　a　mile　away；　and　Langdon　settled　into　his　seat。　So　dark　the　con　of　man。　Sophie's　quick　thinking　had　been　impressive。　Madonna　of　the　Rocks。
Sophie　had　said　her　grandfather　left　her　something　behind　the　painting。　A　final　message？　Langdon　could　not　help　but　marvel　over　Saunière's　brilliant　hiding　place；　Madonna　of　the　Rocks　was　yet　another　fitting　link　in　the　evening's　chain　of　interconnected　symbolism。　Saunière；　it　seemed；　at　every　turn；　was　reinforcing　his　fondness　for　the　dark　and　mischievous　side　of　Leonardo　da　Vinci。
Da　Vinci's　original　mission　for　Madonna　of　the　Rocks　had　e　from　an　organization　known　as　the　Confraternity　of　the　Immaculate　Conception；　which　needed　a　painting　for　the　centerpiece　of　an　altar　triptych　in　their　church　of　San　Francesco　in　Milan。　The　nuns　gave　Leonardo　specific　dimensions；　and　the　desired　theme　for　the　painting—the　Virgin　Mary；　baby　John　the　Baptist；　Uriel；　and　Baby　Jesus　sheltering　in　a　cave。　Although　Da　Vinci　did　as　they　requested；　when　he　delivered　the　work；　the　group　reacted　with　horror。　He　had　filled　the　painting　with　explosive　and　disturbing　details。
The　painting　showed　a　blue…robed　Virgin　Mary　sitting　with　her　arm　around　an　infant　child；　presumably　Baby　Jesus。　Opposite　Mary　sat　Uriel；　also　with　an　infant；　presumably　baby　John　the　Baptist。　Oddly；　though；　rather　than　the　usual　Jesus…blessing…John　scenario；　it　was　baby　John　who　was　blessing　Jesus。。。　and　Jesus　was　submitting　to　his　authority！　More　troubling　still；　Mary　was　holding　one　hand　high　above　the　head　of　infant　John　and　making　a　decidedly　threatening　gesture—her　fingers　looking　like　eagle's　talons；　gripping　an　invisible　head。　Finally；　the　most　obvious　and　frightening　image：　Just　below　Mary's　curled　fingers；　Uriel　was　making　a　cutting　gesture　with　his　hand—as　if　slicing　the　neck　of　the　invisible　head　gripped　by　Mary's　claw…like　hand。
Langdon's　students　were　always　amused　to　learn　that　Da　Vinci　eventually　mollified　the　confraternity　by　painting　them　a　second；　〃watered…down〃　version　of　Madonna　of　the　Rocks　in　which　everyone　was　arranged　in　a　more　orthodox　manner。　The　second　version　now　hung　in　London's　National　Gallery　under　the　name　Virgin　of　the　Rocks；　although　Langdon　still　preferred　the　Louvre's　more　intriguing　original。
As　Sophie　gunned　the　car　up　Champs…Elysées；　Langdon　said；　〃The　painting。　What　was　behind　it？〃
Her　eyes　remained　on　the　road。　〃I'll　show　you　once　we're　safely　inside　the　embassy。〃
〃You'll　show　it　to　me？〃　Langdon　was　surprised。　〃He　left　you　a　physical　object？〃
Sophie　gave　a　curt　nod。　〃Embossed　with　a　fleur…de…lis　and　the　initials　P。S。〃
Langdon　couldn't　believe　his　ears。
　
We're　going　to　make　it；　Sophie　thought　as　she　swung　the　SmartCar's　wheel　to　the　right；　cutting　sharply　past　the　luxurious　H？tel　de　Crillon　into　Paris's　tree…lined　diplomatic　neighborhood。　The　embassy　was　less　than　a　mile　away　now。　She　was　finally　feeling　like　she　could　breathe　normally　again。
Even　as　she　drove；　Sophie's　mind　remained　locked　on　the　key　in　her　pocket；　her　memories　of　seeing　it　many　years　ago；　the　gold　head　shaped　as　an　equal…armed　cross；　the　triangular　shaft；　the　indentations；　the　embossed　flowery　seal；　and　the　letters　P。S。
Although　the　key　barely　had　entered　Sophie's　thoughts　through　the　years；　her　work　in　the　intelligence　munity　had　taught　her　plenty　about　security；　and　now　the　key's　peculiar　tooling　no　longer　looked　so　mystifying。　A　laser…tooled　varying　matrix。　Impossible　to　duplicate。　Rather　than　teeth　that　moved　tumblers；　this　key's　plex　series　of　laser…burned　pockmarks　was　examined　by　an　electric　eye。　If　the　eye　determined　that　the　hexagonal　pockmarks　were　correctly　spaced；　arranged；　and　rotated；　then　the　lock　would　open。
Sophie　could　not　begin　to　imagine　what　a　key　like　this　opened；　but　she　sensed　Robert　would　be　able　to　tell　her。　After　all；　he　had　described　the　key's　embossed　seal　without　ever　seeing　it。　The　cruciform　on　top　implied　the　key　belonged　to　some　kind　of　Christian　organization；　and　yet　Sophie　knew　of　no　churches　that　used　laser…tooled　varying　matrix　keys。
Besides；　my　grandfather　was　no　Christian。。。。
Sophie　had　witnessed　proof　of　that　ten　years　ago。　Ironically；　it　had　been　another　key—a　far　more　normal　one—that　had　revealed　his　true　nature　to　her。
The　afternoon　had　been　warm　when　she　landed　at　Charles　de　Gaulle　Airport　and　hailed　a　taxi　home。　Grand…père　will　be　so　surprised　to　see　me；　she　thought。　Returning　from　graduate　school　in　Britain　for　spring　break　a　few　days　early；　Sophie　couldn't　wait　to　see　him　and　tell　him　all　about　the　encryption　methods　she　was　studying。
When　she　arrived　at　their　Paris　home；　however；　her　grandfather　was　not　there。　Disappointed；　she　knew　he　had　not　been　expecting　her　and　was　probably　working　at　the　Louvre。　But　it's　Saturday　afternoon；　she　realized。　He　seldom　worked　on　weekends。　On　weekends；　he　usually—
Grinning；　Sophie　ran　out　to　the　garage。　Sure　enough；　his　car　was　gone。　It　was　the　weekend。　Jacques　Saunière　despised　city　driving　and　owned　a　car　for　one　destination　only—his　vacation　chateau　in　Normandy；　north　of　Paris。　Sophie；　after　months　in　the　congestion　of　London；　was　eager　for　the　smells　of　nature　and　to　start　her　vacation　right　away。　It　was　still　early　evening；　and　she　decided　to　leave　immediately　and　surprise　him。　Borrowing　a　friend's　car；　Sophie　drove　north；　winding　into　the　deserted　moon…swept　hills　near　Creully。　She　arrived　just　after　ten　o'clock；　turning　down　the　long　private　driveway　toward　her　grandfather's　retreat。　The　access　road　was　over　a　mile　long；　and　she　was　halfway　down　it　before　she　could　start　to　see　the　house　through　the　trees—a　mammoth；　old　stone　chateau　nestled　in　the　woods　on　the　side　of　a　hill。
Sophie　had　half　expected　to　find　her　grandfather　asleep　at　this　hour　and　was　excited　to　see　the　house　twinkling　with　lights。　Her　delight　turned　to　surprise；　however；　when　she　arrived　to　find　the　driveway　filled　with　parked　cars—Mercedeses；　BMWs；　Audis；　and　a　Rolls…Royce。
Sophie　stared　a　moment　and　then　burst　out　laughing。　My　grand…père；　the　famous　recluse！　Jacques　Saunière；　it　seemed；　was　far　less　reclusive　than　he　liked　to　pretend。　Clearly　he　was　hosting　a　party　while　Sophie　was　away　at　school；　and　from　the　looks　of　the　automobiles；　some　of　Paris's　most　influential　people　were　in　attendance。
Eager　to　surprise　him；　she　hurried　to　the　front　door。　When　she　got　there；　though；　she　found　it　locked。　She　knocked。　Nobody　answered。　Puzzled；　she　walked　around　and　tried　the　back　door。　It　too　was　locked。　No　answer。
Confused；　she　stood　a　moment　and　listened。　The　only　sound　she　heard　was　the　cool　Normandy　air　letting　out　a　low　moan　as　it　swirled　through　the　valley。
No　music。
No　voices。
Nothing。
In　the　silence　of　the　woods；　Sophie　hurried　to　the　side　of　the　house　and　clambered　up　on　a　woodpile；　pressing　her　face　to　the　living　room　window。　What　she　saw　inside　made　no　sense　at　all。
〃Nobody's　here！〃
The　entire　first　floor　looked　deserted。
Where　are　all　the　people？
Heart　racing；　Sophie　ran　to　the　woodshed　and　got　the　spare　key　her　grandfather　kept　hidden　under　the　kindling　box。　She　ran　to　the　front　door　and　let　herself　in。　As　she　stepped　into　the　deserted　foyer；　the　control　panel　for　the　security　system　started　blinking　red—a　warning　that　the　entrant　had　ten　seconds　to　type　the　proper　code　before　the　security　alarms　went　off。
He　has　the　alarm　on　during　a　party？
Sophie　quickly　typed　the　code　and　deactivated　the　system。
Entering；　she　found　the　entire　house　uninhabited。　Upstairs　too。　As　she　descended　again　to　the　deserted　living　room；　she　stood　a　moment　in　the　silence；　wondering　what　could　possibly　be　happening。
It　was　then　that　Sophie　heard　it。
Muffled　voices。　And　they　seemed　to　be　ing　from　underneath　her。　Sophie　could　not　imagine。　Crouching；　she　put　her　ear　to　the　floor　and　listened。　Yes；　the　sound　was　definitely　ing　from　below。　The　voices　seemed　to　be　singing；　or。。。　chanting？　She　was　frightened。　Almost　more　eerie　than　the　sound　itself　was　the　realization　that　this　house　did　not　even　have　a　basement。
At　least　none　I've　ever　seen。
Turning　now　and　scanning　the　living　room；　Sophie's　eyes　fell　to　the　only　object　in　the　entire　house　that　seemed　out　of　place—her　grandfather's　favorite　antique；　a　sprawling　Aubusson　tapestry。　It　usually　hung　on　the　east　wall　beside　the　fireplace；　but　tonight　it　had　been　pulled　aside　on　its　brass　rod；　exposing　the　wall　behind　it。
Walking　toward　the　bare　wooden　wall；　Sophie　sensed　the　chanting　getting　louder。　Hesitant；