Struggling with the gear shift, Langdon managed to maneuver the hijacked taxi to the far side of
. z# H+ O' i! W1 T0 X: lthe Bois de Boulogne while stalling only twice. Unfortunately, the inherent humor in the situation 3 w0 {2 q$ O4 J+ K4 T. v
was overshadowed by the taxi dispatcher repeatedly hailing their cab over the radio.% Z* r& `& |: X6 U
"Voiture cinq-six-trois. Où êtes-vous? Répondez!"
. b4 e) s/ H1 Q+ }When Langdon reached the exit of the park, he swallowed his machismo and jammed on the + x$ S! d. D1 h
brakes. "You'd better drive."3 \/ \2 F; p0 n
Sophie looked relieved as she jumped behind the wheel. Within seconds she had the car humming
& ~' p! b+ Y( H9 }7 W( b' |( X, Xsmoothly westward along Allée de Longchamp, leaving the Garden of Earthly Delights behind.
- W) i# o) f/ z: |* i1 E# ~"Which way is Rue Haxo?" Langdon asked, watching Sophie edge the speedometer over a hundred
% }1 s$ e- l, j' t& g+ B3 u4 Ekilometers an hour.
4 E3 J# o( v( `- o  pSophie's eyes remained focused on the road. "The cab driver said it's adjacent to the Roland Garros ! d, E1 f' y( y/ ]& {' [
tennis stadium. I know that area."% D: a# ?! E% h( f7 `
Langdon pulled the heavy key from his pocket again, feeling the weight in his palm. He sensed it 4 s/ Q) [# q1 q
was an object of enormous consequence. Quite possibly the key to his own freedom.
5 q! n) S7 Q* b# U- ]0 A: |, y. q7 R. W, p& b7 B
Earlier, while telling Sophie about the Knights Templar, Langdon had realized that this key, in
. R; Q3 W  L& J/ H  C: c9 [1 maddition to having the Priory seal embossed on it, possessed a more subtle tie to the Priory of Sion.
. H5 X! v5 i2 u8 F0 XThe equal-armed cruciform was symbolic of balance and harmony but also of the Knights Templar. 7 H" r$ p& V4 @# d3 J  X& J) T3 l
Everyone had seen the paintings of Knights Templar wearing white tunics emblazoned with red
, D- S' k; n0 H! q0 r5 Kequal-armed crosses. Granted, the arms of the Templar cross were slightly flared at the ends, but
4 q7 g( z' q: n( b& Dthey were still of equal length.+ l9 c  C+ p& W8 z
A square cross. Just like the one on this key.' I8 D% l( ^; h7 Q, ]
Langdon felt his imagination starting to run wild as he fantasized about what they might find. The
" R; w& a& ~8 q( C: M  R( \! t9 pHoly Grail. He almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. The Grail was believed to be
. {7 }0 {. B/ ]6 G8 E% p- asomewhere in England, buried in a hidden chamber beneath one of the many Templar churches, - h; e) L/ k  ^  }, S7 E
where it had been hidden since at least 1500.
3 k+ K: c: l, k& dThe era of Grand Master Da Vinci.0 ]* ^5 f7 ~4 {, Y' d( y: Y
The Priory, in order to keep their powerful documents safe, had been forced to move them many
" b5 T& R2 n% J+ e: z8 n. wtimes in the early centuries. Historians now suspected as many as six different Grail relocations
, G- w; w+ k2 u6 ssince its arrival in Europe from Jerusalem. The last Grail "sighting" had been in 1447 when
& g% `/ Z9 U0 Knumerous eyewitnesses described a fire that had broken out and almost engulfed the documents
1 ?- a' G$ y7 f+ Q( Jbefore they were carried to safety in four huge chests that each required six men to carry. After 5 n5 Z, e7 g- H1 A
that, nobody claimed to see the Grail ever again. All that remained were occasional whisperings
! k* u3 A- a8 l8 B% t' u0 e2 G# A% vthat it was hidden in Great Britain, the land of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.2 q, a" z" F' d* t% z& J
Wherever it was, two important facts remained:' f+ ~# o, ~" A
Leonardo knew where the Grail resided during his lifetime.
. q5 V( w$ H4 O7 x: H! ZThat hiding place had probably not changed to this day./ ~3 |+ t7 N- E: [. k1 `! r) b
For this reason, Grail enthusiasts still pored over Da Vinci's art and diaries in hopes of unearthing a
7 C% y4 Z! Z) B9 x% x. e( fhidden clue as to the Grail's current location. Some claimed the mountainous backdrop in Madonna
8 S% O% ?( ?! K7 Rof the Rocks matched the topography of a series of cave-ridden hills in Scotland. Others insisted   s- K  h6 t! e0 h" N4 h$ {& Y
that the suspicious placement of disciples in The Last Supper was some kind of code. Still others 0 O0 c6 [, ?2 H9 m7 S
claimed that X rays of the Mona Lisa revealed she originally had been painted wearing a lapis 1 x+ l- p" W7 o9 H. C/ T
lazuli pendant of Isis—a detail Da Vinci purportedly later decided to paint over. Langdon had 8 g& V6 @. @2 O& y& ~5 e% `
never seen any evidence of the pendant, nor could he imagine how it could possibly reveal the $ Y% i) x5 T1 q& u
Holy Grail, and yet Grail aficionados still discussed it ad nauseum on Internet bulletin boards and 4 {! C& i2 U4 J7 z: t7 P# X
worldwide-web chat rooms.4 p" P$ O+ x- d, ?6 k
Everyone loves a conspiracy.: N# Z) r! k" O" O$ g3 q! t% f
And the conspiracies kept coming. Most recently, of course, had been the earthshaking discovery 3 q: @% z1 e+ w% v
6 [  W# A& @+ _
that Da Vinci's famed Adoration of the Magi was hiding a dark secret beneath its layers of paint.
+ \" H1 G2 `+ UItalian art diagnostician Maurizio Seracini had unveiled the unsettling truth, which the New York 8 J- T" e( V5 X( C  ?- c
Times Magazine carried prominently in a story titled "The Leonardo Cover-Up."
7 ?2 w7 e, z! W3 t6 z+ wSeracini had revealed beyond any doubt that while the Adoration's gray-green sketched
+ N1 F, i+ |/ n9 N! O- Lunderdrawing was indeed Da Vinci's work, the painting itself was not. The truth was that some $ s/ S" M7 p% A8 m2 o/ e
anonymous painter had filled in Da Vinci's sketch like a paint-by-numbers years after Da Vinci's
. _' q5 }: ]) q0 l2 X: F$ v" d/ Rdeath. Far more troubling, however, was what lay beneath the impostor's paint. Photographs taken : }; R- T& }( A& Q: u2 x
with infrared reflectography and X ray suggested that this rogue painter, while filling in Da Vinci's : x6 T% V) C6 r* g; G
sketched study, had made suspicious departures from the underdrawing... as if to subvert Da
7 t1 H# n* D7 Y& {  o; IVinci's true intention. Whatever the true nature of the underdrawing, it had yet to be made public. 6 u& S& s( o, K* U& U8 f. H
Even so, embarrassed officials at Florence's Uffizi Gallery immediately banished the painting to a 2 W# u2 p8 X* Y* L6 _3 y7 f
warehouse across the street. Visitors at the gallery's Leonardo Room now found a misleading and 8 ?0 G7 g4 {9 ^; s# Y$ W* p4 Y
unapologetic plaque where the Adoration once hung., ]7 ?& `% ]9 Z. |; p
THIS WORK IS UNDERGOING/ i) c+ G! \; Z' q: \0 w  E
DIAGNOSTIC TESTS IN PREPARATION) ^. U6 B4 q8 ~( {" t, t9 h1 r, f# j
FOR RESTORATION.
* I5 {% y8 u2 _0 ^0 Y
6 G( A, f% W9 h$ q2 V9 oIn the bizarre underworld of modern Grail seekers, Leonardo da Vinci remained the quest's great 0 `* D% A( |# c$ q' j
enigma. His artwork seemed bursting to tell a secret, and yet whatever it was remained hidden, ) m7 ^9 [0 a3 D8 ?) w% c4 G) x
perhaps beneath a layer of paint, perhaps enciphered in plain view, or perhaps nowhere at all. 5 D' X5 F0 m1 p
Maybe Da Vinci's plethora of tantalizing clues was nothing but an empty promise left behind to . e; l' B& k/ l( e5 L
frustrate the curious and bring a smirk to the face of his knowing Mona Lisa.+ o1 e. U) L# n# L& ?$ G1 [$ R
"Is it possible," Sophie asked, drawing Langdon back, "that the key you're holding unlocks the
- X- z1 J/ @& i0 ]hiding place of the Holy Grail?"
5 R; B* E2 d$ @; N% a+ e# `$ kLangdon's laugh sounded forced, even to him. "I really can't imagine. Besides, the Grail is believed
! x( L( K# w  g( W5 ]to be hidden in the United Kingdom somewhere, not France." He gave her the quick history.+ _2 }0 L6 z( m: g7 @+ M
"But the Grail seems the only rational conclusion," she insisted. "We have an extremely secure key,
( p% t- j( ]. s9 e% U9 Z, s3 vstamped with the Priory of Sion seal, delivered to us by a member of the Priory of Sion—a
9 I3 N$ |7 [# A1 [brotherhood which, you just told me, are guardians of the Holy Grail."# {' p1 y, |0 G
Langdon knew her contention was logical, and yet intuitively he could not possibly accept it.
/ `4 H4 z4 G- }, N. eRumors existed that the Priory had vowed someday to bring the Grail back to France to a final   G" f$ s7 M) q7 D! g9 b5 u
resting place, but certainly no historical evidence existed to suggest that this indeed had happened. 3 Q; d7 Z4 c! R3 W( z; z- Z9 B
Even if the Priory had managed to bring the Grail back to France, the address 24 Rue Haxo near a 3 f3 E* m8 A  F' G6 a) o
tennis stadium hardly sounded like a noble final resting place. "Sophie, I really don't see how this ' Q& v9 S' i, Z' J" K
key could have anything to do with the Grail."5 ~: |( I+ ~  z* n3 y* j8 o

+ u* ~+ Z3 W: P' M5 E! [( B"Because the Grail is supposed to be in England?"9 u/ B( G# q' I% G' h* M2 J4 `$ F( N
"Not only that. The location of the Holy Grail is one of the best kept secrets in history. Priory
9 E" d& a! N7 u0 G: omembers wait decades proving themselves trustworthy before being elevated to the highest . z- \; T$ J5 V2 c/ F5 g! u8 K
echelons of the fraternity and learning where the Grail is. That secret is protected by an intricate 1 h6 {5 U( \3 L. a) m2 P) X
system of compartmentalized knowledge, and although the Priory brotherhood is very large, only 4 D1 r6 G# d& t0 [7 r& f7 b( i. I
four members at any given time know where the Grail is hidden—the Grand Master and his three
( V) O7 p. t- r+ Y& w' x# G( B8 R& Bsénéchaux. The probability of your grandfather being one of those four top people is very slim."
3 _5 P& N! [4 l- K% \' X# q+ rMy grandfather was one of them, Sophie thought, pressing down on the accelerator. She had an
% H+ ?: M/ @% C) q7 Wimage stamped in her memory that confirmed her grandfather's status within the brotherhood
% k  O4 X* b  c, Abeyond any doubt.
1 p7 E  r6 c- r& F# t' O"And even if your grandfather were in the upper echelon, he would never be allowed to reveal
! a% N% o8 S; Z9 }) ^0 _) xanything to anyone outside the brotherhood. It is inconceivable that he would bring you into the
; r9 g7 }& p% O: E& U& B8 q2 ^inner circle."/ z- u) s: [8 Q4 n  X2 E, l
I've already been there, Sophie thought, picturing the ritual in the basement. She wondered if this 0 n. c. m( d& s" `8 M2 v$ E
were the moment to tell Langdon what she had witnessed that night in the Normandy chateau. For
+ V3 `  Z& R9 i1 |ten years now, simple shame had kept her from telling a soul. Just thinking about it, she shuddered.
, C" `1 p  j! |# `% `( [# CSirens howled somewhere in the distance, and she felt a thickening shroud of fatigue settling over : _7 ?( L6 U0 O3 y5 ]+ B" S- ^
her.
* b, J4 R' O2 [0 ]' ^"There!" Langdon said, feeling excited to see the huge complex of the Roland Garros tennis + \: S# h  f5 z) z1 V+ t, N* Q
stadium looming ahead.+ W1 d$ v! ]: a( X2 q$ F; a9 Y6 d
Sophie snaked her way toward the stadium. After several passes, they located the intersection of 6 P; J  K9 h2 W! }; m$ p1 R
Rue Haxo and turned onto it, driving in the direction of the lower numbers. The road became more + n) M" g6 B2 M2 o) X
industrial, lined with businesses.
3 g1 u3 o) J1 R0 X. R, FWe need number twenty-four, Langdon told himself, realizing he was secretly scanning the horizon 0 _/ W3 U9 Y& i( Q2 b
for the spires of a church. Don't be ridiculous. A forgotten Templar church in this neighborhood?4 I$ _/ }# X/ C5 F8 }: L( z
"There it is," Sophie exclaimed, pointing.
3 B- q" e/ q1 u/ }( `Langdon's eyes followed to the structure ahead., {7 X$ S  j4 o- w" A
What in the world?
) M, l3 y3 J7 @2 Z" z2 i9 S- ?The building was modern. A squat citadel with a giant, neon equal-armed cross emblazoned atop # O2 w) P- L8 \& r
its facade. Beneath the cross were the words:
1 P. a' T; n0 q" `, i! rDEPOSITORY BANK OF ZURICH8 }  e! W3 H  M" M4 z

5 {2 E! Q; O7 x( O0 eLangdon was thankful not to have shared his Templar church hopes with Sophie. A career hazard
0 |- p% i, u% k& o; hof symbologists was a tendency to extract hidden meaning from situations that had none. In this
) D! G4 O& [! a8 T- J5 {case, Langdon had entirely forgotten that the peaceful, equal-armed cross had been adopted as the / N" i+ ]  A9 V3 I% Y) d7 H) v
perfect symbol for the flag of neutral Switzerland.3 H7 I3 ^. z5 m; i: F, j: k8 T
At least the mystery was solved.
1 P' b! W0 q  g8 d0 ?6 aSophie and Langdon were holding the key to a Swiss bank deposit box.

Outside Castel Gandolfo, an updraft of mountain air gushed over the top of the cliff and across the
3 w: d. ^5 G2 C, h1 X; Ghigh bluff, sending a chill through Bishop Aringarosa as he stepped from the Fiat. I should have / \* v( R) ^' G/ h
worn more than this cassock, he thought, fighting the reflex to shiver. The last thing he needed to
! u; v) i* v! iappear tonight was weak or fearful.+ H* m" {1 Q& S& u2 P' L3 [5 ^
The castle was dark save the windows at the very top of the building, which glowed ominously.
1 O7 h* R, [' w0 i1 o1 bThe library, Aringarosa thought. They are awake and waiting. He ducked his head against the wind
! G: C( G" U) }1 g5 Iand continued on without so much as a glance toward the observatory domes.
/ ?& q- D7 _/ i: cThe priest who greeted him at the door looked sleepy. He was the same priest who had greeted
; ~0 @) J3 G. L9 uAringarosa five months ago, albeit tonight he did so with much less hospitality. "We were worried
  @  U) A. G: f7 h/ U% I" v7 B% qabout you, Bishop," the priest said, checking his watch and looking more perturbed than worried.9 O7 G/ e9 z6 k9 `1 ?# M
"My apologies. Airlines are so unreliable these days."
& r$ ]5 `# C2 ^; P  IThe priest mumbled something inaudible and then said, "They are waiting upstairs. I will escort * l) n2 S) t3 v% V2 j
you up."
% g8 I/ r9 [6 _. {' `The library was a vast square room with dark wood from floor to ceiling. On all sides, towering 6 e2 f) O1 K# _# I4 t" }  [' d
bookcases burgeoned with volumes. The floor was amber marble with black basalt trim, a
" \6 b+ ~+ h( W+ o; |& Z7 S# A+ i% Hhandsome reminder that this building had once been a palace.- \- j$ `# k$ y  n9 F) N2 C; Z
"Welcome, Bishop," a man's voice said from across the room.
3 F9 }, S1 _4 ZAringarosa tried to see who had spoken, but the lights were ridiculously low—much lower than
$ Y6 _& i  n2 W& Xthey had been on his first visit, when everything was ablaze. The night of stark awakening.
% }" y: S  j% H0 b; I  ATonight, these men sat in the shadows, as if they were somehow ashamed of what was about to ! J: L" k. B6 E- x" I- B, _
transpire.- m5 h7 q$ B) \, R2 E1 R* z9 m0 V7 W

+ r) E6 U$ j& ?: x% T( W. p1 `4 x( YAringarosa entered slowly, regally even. He could see the shapes of three men at a long table on
1 \( a5 G+ a3 a* H) k2 uthe far side of the room. The silhouette of the man in the middle was immediately
$ J& n, P( p+ o4 ?* I4 _recognizable—the obese Secretariat Vaticana, overlord of all legal matters within Vatican City. 3 o& q  X" G$ o5 L
The other two were high-ranking Italian cardinals.4 ?. ^; V+ M/ c8 z
Aringarosa crossed the library toward them. "My humble apologies for the hour. We're on different
. c) v* r3 b! Atime zones. You must be tired."
0 ^" c; o( Z4 I( }"Not at all," the secretariat said, his hands folded on his enormous belly. "We are grateful you have
8 z9 T( m6 y1 t, J/ ^/ f! q( Z# dcome so far. The least we can do is be awake to meet you. Can we offer you some coffee or - G& i4 B# ~4 ]9 ~" d
refreshments?"
# R; T/ ~2 q8 N; M; g& ]2 j, i"I'd prefer we don't pretend this is a social visit. I have another plane to catch. Shall we get to # E: F# K9 Y9 m4 L5 p9 G5 q' V
business?"
( @. G9 \' ?4 _9 ]" k"Of course," the secretariat said. "You have acted more quickly than we imagined."
8 Y/ C+ B" P; m: i" p9 O- M! Y% K"Have I?"
' r9 B& p* q- {  J( Y"You still have a month."1 U- K( Q: W2 K
"You made your concerns known five months ago," Aringarosa said. "Why should I wait?"' p% z$ |* Y# ?' b  f" v
"Indeed. We are very pleased with your expediency.". _- W( n% m3 S) j$ ]6 I3 s3 m. ?" f  K
Aringarosa's eyes traveled the length of the long table to a large black briefcase. "Is that what I
" s! y% W" P( @. o. a; ^. X: qrequested?"
: P1 E7 G5 B$ v; F$ J! d% W"It is." The secretariat sounded uneasy. "Although, I must admit, we are concerned with the
" U# y$ b- _" D& {1 f2 }& C  orequest. It seems quite..."/ x2 z7 S- v7 t$ Y% m
"Dangerous," one of the cardinals finished. "Are you certain we cannot wire it to you somewhere? 0 Z) X/ P0 k; d" M
The sum is exorbitant.". j) v& m4 l$ g0 l- B' v
Freedom is expensive. "I have no concerns for my own safety. God is with me."
# x- N% t% C6 n0 Y+ L: C* S! a0 ZThe men actually looked doubtful.
. i. @, r4 n, f$ }"The funds are exactly as I requested?"
4 |( @1 T2 [/ r+ r. k1 V; ^The secretariat nodded. "Large-denomination bearer bonds drawn on the Vatican Bank. Negotiable 1 O+ @' x& _3 D2 h0 w2 x
as cash anywhere in the world."4 _& ?: ], X8 g- R! L/ \3 h

( j4 ~0 Q, l% o4 p6 x5 J' h' fAringarosa walked to the end of the table and opened the briefcase. Inside were two thick stacks of
6 z- q4 ~6 p  h. b2 Lbonds, each embossed with the Vatican seal and the title PORTATORE, making the bonds
* A- a6 d) m" t( u+ f: Gredeemable to whoever was holding them.3 A/ j4 x8 H' R2 V) @
The secretariat looked tense. "I must say, Bishop, all of us would feel less apprehensive if these 6 @! a6 O( ?; K$ m+ \2 ?4 W' }
funds were in cash."
1 L+ ~; l  ?% o* _. UI could not lift that much cash, Aringarosa thought, closing the case. "Bonds are negotiable as cash.
0 V* f: B- V" B) |" `( \You said so yourself."
4 }& `$ v/ G4 L6 M2 o6 mThe cardinals exchanged uneasy looks, and finally one said, "Yes, but these bonds are traceable 3 B  I6 [" V4 \4 c6 _
directly to the Vatican Bank."' `8 ~: ?) M% m( J
Aringarosa smiled inwardly. That was precisely the reason the Teacher suggested Aringarosa get - q2 e4 |7 Y, g5 P. g; |
the money in Vatican Bank bonds. It served as insurance. We are all in this together now. "This is
) c. V8 t# K' `, `+ Ka perfectly legal transaction," Aringarosa defended. "Opus Dei is a personal prelature of Vatican 3 r( I! s$ c! J9 s2 I, q; G
City, and His Holiness can disperse monies however he sees fit. No law has been broken here.": }9 f2 S& D/ Y* g( d, K8 o. p) O
"True, and yet..." The secretariat leaned forward and his chair creaked under the burden. "We have
  U0 `" D& T& Q, M" ]" Ano knowledge of what you intend to do with these funds, and if it is in any way illegal..."/ M* c) B% A/ @' G3 E! f: `
"Considering what you are asking of me," Aringarosa countered, "what I do with this money is not
* o4 ~. F/ o8 |: {! K7 g+ ^5 K" lyour concern."
2 q( F' Q4 Y  W+ SThere was a long silence.
* m. z0 X+ b, pThey know I'm right, Aringarosa thought. "Now, I imagine you have something for me to sign?"
! s6 x! _% l* \! i% HThey all jumped, eagerly pushing the paper toward him, as if they wished he would simply leave.2 |9 u! J; a7 L% m
Aringarosa eyed the sheet before him. It bore the papal seal. "This is identical to the copy you sent
. B8 q+ c0 T. W& h' Q* \8 Gme?"( V4 W: l0 E& l, j
"Exactly."0 A0 j1 C' z4 `* n
Aringarosa was surprised how little emotion he felt as he signed the document. The three men
/ G/ [* l8 B& W; G  [present, however, seemed to sigh in relief.1 Q3 ]* B# Q  C# c2 ?, z# B
"Thank you, Bishop," the secretariat said. "Your service to the Church will never be forgotten."
. W5 @- N4 b/ SAringarosa picked up the briefcase, sensing promise and authority in its weight. The four men + R+ w5 t: I. \" x) H
looked at one another for a moment as if there were something more to say, but apparently there
! K$ [. I' ?+ t! j! Q/ vwas not. Aringarosa turned and headed for the door.! U! h8 H: @& B3 \" \! F: l7 }

# ?, a* {2 s5 L4 k8 b+ M( f+ h) O"Bishop?" one of the cardinals called out as Aringarosa reached the threshold.
% `' ~3 ^( w5 L" M: Z- ]( rAringarosa paused, turning. "Yes?"1 w3 i. i% z$ D
"Where will you go from here?"# x8 z" I' `! D+ l7 |
Aringarosa sensed the query was more spiritual than geographical, and yet he had no intention of
' O( ]& z# ?) Hdiscussing morality at this hour. "Paris," he said, and walked out the door.

The Depository Bank of Zurich was a twenty-four-hour Geldschrank bank offering the full modern 6 @0 ]( A" i9 f7 ~
array of anonymous services in the tradition of the Swiss numbered account. Maintaining offices in ; S; f) i! t! Y# e$ Z! s! Z
Zurich, Kuala Lumpur, New York, and Paris, the bank had expanded its services in recent years to 2 `9 g& I# j/ K! H! B! J# H0 \
offer anonymous computer source code escrow services and faceless digitized backup.
; O$ D/ O; M  b: ?6 @! X$ n2 iThe bread and butter of its operation was by far its oldest and simplest offering—the anonyme 9 }: ~# Q1 Z( J) H6 k* N: S
Lager—blind drop services, otherwise known as anonymous safe-deposit boxes. Clients wishing to
" a8 A! r. b$ w. hstore anything from stock certificates to valuable paintings could deposit their belongings 9 Q; Q& P+ I; k; `+ I' n* z0 b# o* O5 I
anonymously, through a series of high-tech veils of privacy, withdrawing items at any time, also in 4 ?* m; |; J7 ]# @: s
total anonymity.
' A3 D! X6 n4 J: _4 `% }As Sophie pulled the taxi to a stop in front of their destination, Langdon gazed out at the building's 4 ]+ t0 r1 j3 w  m5 O4 P
uncompromising architecture and sensed the Depository Bank of Zurich was a firm with little sense , e( Z5 ?+ w5 W% S% u2 R
of humor. The building was a windowless rectangle that seemed to be forged entirely of dull steel.
( t4 l! d# y+ J( Z% WResembling an enormous metal brick, the edifice sat back from the road with a fifteen-foot-tall,
3 N  V2 R5 c/ u# D* \* J# N: Z0 [# \( oneon, equilateral cross glowing over its facade.' Z0 e2 g+ t6 q6 _; a! V
Switzerland's reputation for secrecy in banking had become one of the country's most lucrative
6 P( P# B7 ~; Z: u2 m/ zexports. Facilities like this had become controversial in the art community because they provided a $ Z; Y, u, L, Z2 P& y
perfect place for art thieves to hide stolen goods, for years if necessary, until the heat was off. 1 L5 D  C( ~7 U' l$ M# d% |
Because deposits were protected from police inspection by privacy laws and were attached to
9 ?6 q. C5 E( W1 anumbered accounts rather than people's names, thieves could rest easily knowing their stolen goods 7 S9 s. ^0 ]& K; q2 W4 V; Y( z
were safe and could never be traced to them.$ J9 G, z( t+ R
Sophie stopped the taxi at an imposing gate that blocked the bank's driveway—a cement-lined
& }1 {, r" v" V% t& R( H2 {' I6 Kramp that descended beneath the building. A video camera overhead was aimed directly at them,
: C6 o2 t5 _; Z' V7 Qand Langdon had the feeling that this camera, unlike those at the Louvre, was authentic.
3 ]& d) S3 t) u+ H- p7 m. Q7 sSophie rolled down the window and surveyed the electronic podium on the driver's side. An LCD
+ g; n6 D9 d$ A, v$ Z8 k) r! r" V' `( h. _& H
screen provided directions in seven languages. Topping the list was English.' f  R  b$ o  E# Z
INSERT KEY.
' {5 T- n( T, C% E 5 q4 ~7 Y1 x/ E/ Y
Sophie took the gold laser-pocked key from her pocket and turned her attention back to the
  _( D' {) @! i  n0 B" Y0 ipodium. Below the screen was a triangular hole.
8 \4 {$ O4 W6 [0 X, K"Something tells me it will fit," Langdon said.1 j# K1 X+ h$ z# N: T
Sophie aligned the key's triangular shaft with the hole and inserted it, sliding it in until the entire   h+ M( l7 p5 M% Q- F- _/ L
shaft had disappeared. This key apparently required no turning. Instantly, the gate began to swing
  i0 _! C3 V: c8 n3 U; mopen. Sophie took her foot off the brake and coasted down to a second gate and podium. Behind 3 g6 c. r0 R# E" [: a
her, the first gate closed, trapping them like a ship in a lock.& h. E4 ~! E6 I: B7 e9 B# @
Langdon disliked the constricted sensation. Let's hope this second gate works too.
  j' P" |% d8 T" q" OThis second podium bore familiar directions.
0 s' f9 s7 k0 A0 UINSERT KEY.
9 Z7 U/ T; j! V0 b  B8 X 5 H& y: ~+ X  v/ r9 B( R
When Sophie inserted the key, the second gate immediately opened. Moments later they were - U) \0 L  s4 `5 \# D/ F# G) e
winding down the ramp into the belly of the structure.+ e. S9 X( n" o  n
The private garage was small and dim, with spaces for about a dozen cars. At the far end, Langdon ' N+ P- B  K. a' V) _
spied the building's main entrance. A red carpet stretched across the cement floor, welcoming
3 F7 V) U! j& [! L/ [( V5 `visitors to a huge door that appeared to be forged of solid metal.! E. P) P: \* d0 f4 R' o
Talk about mixed messages, Langdon thought. Welcome and keep out.
" _* k) P! w1 d) |' n9 vSophie pulled the taxi into a parking space near the entrance and killed the engine. "You'd better + Z! I( g- o& D* }; H" ?9 ]
leave the gun here."
8 W# j& a7 {/ f. |! q$ fWith pleasure, Langdon thought, sliding the pistol under the seat.$ o9 H! G6 o- }( r; U( T0 _4 i
Sophie and Langdon got out and walked up the red carpet toward the slab of steel. The door had no 6 l& m( V& w2 ?  I
handle, but on the wall beside it was another triangular keyhole. No directions were posted this 9 i$ w0 {- d; G' n
time.4 {! S9 u4 f0 V6 M8 }& i
"Keeps out the slow learners," Langdon said.. m  d1 x% P4 Y
Sophie laughed, looking nervous. "Here we go." She stuck the key in the hole, and the door swung
' g0 p4 j: I7 b4 z, l! Y3 h, W7 h  Q$ D0 j% O$ h- S
inward with a low hum. Exchanging glances, Sophie and Langdon entered. The door shut with a + e0 T$ y+ d  h* B" y
thud behind them.
' {+ O$ r; _4 |" j$ gThe foyer of the Depository Bank of Zurich employed as imposing a decor as any Langdon had $ P. ^8 K7 ?4 a3 b  F* }
ever seen. Where most banks were content with the usual polished marble and granite, this one had 3 \9 s. K# V6 d& P. o5 g. W
opted for wall-to-wall metal and rivets.
1 {; a! E, `8 V$ {3 f$ C$ ?Who's their decorator? Langdon wondered. Allied Steel?
/ W. j; L4 C9 _% b$ ~+ T2 aSophie looked equally intimidated as her eyes scanned the lobby.! @7 L/ I: y; R* Q% ?5 F
The gray metal was everywhere—the floor, walls, counters, doors, even the lobby chairs appeared 7 `9 K8 d0 e1 }( U& |. Q
to be fashioned of molded iron. Nonetheless, the effect was impressive. The message was clear:
; v- i6 `5 }3 j0 I2 x  OYou are walking into a vault.
/ G0 H% [; s/ k8 h6 p, L' xA large man behind the counter glanced up as they entered. He turned off the small television he
$ Q9 B5 @* r  n% c0 }3 _3 {was watching and greeted them with a pleasant smile. Despite his enormous muscles and visible
& i9 X$ Y- X! \sidearm, his diction chimed with the polished courtesy of a Swiss bellhop.% O0 w* o3 q# @# c" i* P
"Bonsoir," he said. "How may I help you?"3 o; z# G2 E: u
The dual-language greeting was the newest hospitality trick of the European host. It presumed ; A/ Y' O# V: O5 I& N. p
nothing and opened the door for the guest to reply in whichever language was more comfortable.
  }# F' \  H( \5 V7 S- K" f! sSophie replied with neither. She simply laid the gold key on the counter in front of the man.8 ~# Z7 U2 n! M0 y6 S( e
The man glanced down and immediately stood straighter. "Of course. Your elevator is at the end of
3 h5 L" \. r1 G* f! U6 Bthe hall. I will alert someone that you are on your way."0 j, a3 V3 L9 K& B+ y* V! a3 Y4 S% e
Sophie nodded and took her key back. "Which floor?"8 [9 s, E( z; @7 t) o
The man gave her an odd look. "Your key instructs the elevator which floor."
- B3 R5 H. e4 R9 x* f# PShe smiled. "Ah, yes."" H+ |; ]! {: r& p! a
, _0 H# Z  ?: k- N
The guard watched as the two newcomers made their way to the elevators, inserted their key,
3 J3 x2 Z0 R% ~0 N6 }8 v$ Gboarded the lift, and disappeared. As soon as the door had closed, he grabbed the phone. He was
4 `6 p, J: h7 F: }not calling to alert anyone of their arrival; there was no need for that. A vault greeter already had
4 y0 ^5 N  Y: G- f1 |been alerted automatically when the client's key was inserted outside in the entry gate.
6 ^0 n$ m4 l2 t* p; Y$ R4 _6 NInstead, the guard was calling the bank's night manager. As the line rang, the guard switched the
( @) ], Q- X  K' o2 _) k% C
% }1 G3 ]  R+ C$ ]; F' b' }television back on and stared at it. The news story he had been watching was just ending. It didn't / t; ]" G; F0 u* q' L' [' X  ?
matter. He got another look at the two faces on the television.* b% h) w  F9 v1 }  b9 c$ d" r
The manager answered. "Oui?"
; C: b1 {4 N/ X% I3 L"We have a situation down here."
1 ~5 b% I* ]; I( z9 a/ @"What's happening?" the manager demanded.4 S% J0 b7 Y4 n% Y' V1 Y: W; L0 s7 j
"The French police are tracking two fugitives tonight."* \! v3 J4 V# h9 i0 h$ n
"So?"
0 L+ K( }9 Q2 v9 O; _6 ~"Both of them just walked into our bank."* H6 Z% k. d! D# @2 T7 l' y
The manager cursed quietly. "Okay. I'll contact Monsieur Vernet immediately."* n8 V' C/ J) [2 W
The guard then hung up and placed a second call. This one to Interpol.4 j8 _7 H1 I% e$ R1 t9 M

6 A9 G+ q% b+ s, p! U0 b/ DLangdon was surprised to feel the elevator dropping rather than climbing. He had no idea how
% x3 v8 Y! A" E$ c3 G' `many floors they had descended beneath the Depository Bank of Zurich before the door finally % Q8 G, A4 \: g+ N+ W* ]
opened. He didn't care. He was happy to be out of the elevator.3 N% Z0 l: A1 N4 p: R( T
Displaying impressive alacrity, a host was already standing there to greet them. He was elderly and
# b+ I! k! @% y& T/ npleasant, wearing a neatly pressed flannel suit that made him look oddly out of place—an old-
+ ?/ U; I8 d: o( |, Xworld banker in a high-tech world.
- J# b( |* Y1 E  ^"Bonsoir," the man said. "Good evening. Would you be so kind as to follow me, s'il vous plait?"
+ T% n9 `5 \6 `6 h0 cWithout waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and strode briskly down a narrow metal 0 C4 `4 ~" Y6 j. R/ B7 a5 X
corridor.
  u1 ^- \! N7 c* xLangdon walked with Sophie down a series of corridors, past several large rooms filled with - ^# T. f( t/ L
blinking mainframe computers.
! @# _0 @- H7 A4 w% K"Voici," their host said, arriving at a steel door and opening it for them. "Here you are."& D' |: E' F. J$ Y6 C- h
Langdon and Sophie stepped into another world. The small room before them looked like a lavish
, \6 A8 o7 |  z; h  V1 v7 {sitting room at a fine hotel. Gone were the metal and rivets, replaced with oriental carpets, dark oak
4 v7 I( u9 n9 ]& Afurniture, and cushioned chairs. On the broad desk in the middle of the room, two crystal glasses
; I) z( c7 I! u4 q" tsat beside an opened bottle of Perrier, its bubbles still fizzing. A pewter pot of coffee steamed
) R# q# e; S& s2 g$ G) rbeside it.
. |9 u: }0 g! L0 X0 z8 z2 S. F
/ R5 M" @. A$ Q4 d$ F+ ?4 Q. I) UClockwork, Langdon thought. Leave it to the Swiss.: v5 c4 ?% \# C* `& h% W
The man gave a perceptive smile. "I sense this is your first visit to us?"
# z. H  l+ }6 }$ j3 GSophie hesitated and then nodded.! h% G6 b; f* ?
"Understood. Keys are often passed on as inheritance, and our first-time users are invariably
* Y: g/ \5 K+ X, _1 N2 A1 c7 o- s+ nuncertain of the protocol." He motioned to the table of drinks. "This room is yours as long as you
  N7 t7 R# ~' }care to use it."
9 k4 B+ j+ k9 z5 ]% `1 q* e"You say keys are sometimes inherited?" Sophie asked.0 j) _9 W/ @! M
"Indeed. Your key is like a Swiss numbered account, which are often willed through generations. 9 g7 M' i4 \! `# |
On our gold accounts, the shortest safety-deposit box lease is fifty years. Paid in advance. So we
5 R& X' l! E. @4 V- t- i3 @see plenty of family turnover."
# J, R. o, z* D9 y/ j* {4 RLangdon stared. "Did you say fifty years?"/ c2 t+ w2 b! q& l2 A/ U. R
"At a minimum," their host replied. "Of course, you can purchase much longer leases, but barring
1 p& Q% N5 D/ D# M' Hfurther arrangements, if there is no activity on an account for fifty years, the contents of that safe-5 ]2 U! r8 X: {: M/ k
deposit box are automatically destroyed. Shall I run through the process of accessing your box?"- I( P0 _% G/ M$ e3 z4 f/ ^
Sophie nodded. "Please."
2 b( G1 n" p1 }3 mTheir host swept an arm across the luxurious salon. "This is your private viewing room. Once I
0 ?) h, y% P; T+ E! H6 P* u- Jleave the room, you may spend all the time you need in here to review and modify the contents of 9 u3 d( h/ e. q( ~- `* m& v9 u
your safe-deposit box, which arrives... over here." He walked them to the far wall where a wide
( a; S: V8 N$ f/ j5 v* W  [4 zconveyor belt entered the room in a graceful curve, vaguely resembling a baggage claim carousel.
' o6 M8 G* ^8 c" B# G( q* C" k4 G"You insert your key in that slot there...." The man pointed to a large electronic podium facing the 3 p9 v  ]/ }. H
conveyor belt. The podium had a familiar triangular hole. "Once the computer confirms the
: ]* C8 d+ |. rmarkings on your key, you enter your account number, and your safe-deposit box will be retrieved , |! S$ {% W$ d+ D
robotically from the vault below for your inspection. When you are finished with your box, you
$ p" w) }% {; G# G& D$ J9 B% Aplace it back on the conveyor belt, insert your key again, and the process is reversed. Because # Q0 P2 Q. S5 {3 s/ {' }
everything is automated, your privacy is guaranteed, even from the staff of this bank. If you need : H' t8 \, d" h; W  q8 N3 U
anything at all, simply press the call button on the table in the center of the room."
2 X0 K/ h% n1 a$ A! |1 J6 pSophie was about to ask a question when a telephone rang. The man looked puzzled and
6 G% F. T& r7 u. q% ~embarrassed. "Excuse me, please." He walked over to the phone, which was sitting on the table , H! ]  a7 d8 R( t
beside the coffee and Perrier.* N- i8 ]$ ^; p! p. e
"Oui?" he answered.5 c# k* `9 q* B4 n- ]
His brow furrowed as he listened to the caller. "Oui... oui... d'accord." He hung up, and gave them 7 \, j4 M! ]$ _2 C

6 K1 M$ Q7 ^" F2 pan uneasy smile. "I'm sorry, I must leave you now. Make yourselves at home." He moved quickly
& W( Z3 Q" |+ xtoward the door.
$ s$ c# C0 n* z# p  w& {. j"Excuse me," Sophie called. "Could you clarify something before you go? You mentioned that we 1 x0 G0 }& |6 J# X  L" B, t
enter an account number?"
9 x1 [( C% d6 }+ O5 b" q& aThe man paused at the door, looking pale. "But of course. Like most Swiss banks, our safe-deposit
$ n( |$ ?& @( dboxes are attached to a number, not a name. You have a key and a personal account number known 5 b6 L% a# O* q, ~! G! r" ^
only to you. Your key is only half of your identification. Your personal account number is the other
( E4 v5 g/ p8 Khalf. Otherwise, if you lost your key, anyone could use it."" I  B2 z* S% `' B3 @
Sophie hesitated. "And if my benefactor gave me no account number?"7 B3 t8 |' X) `  x
The banker's heart pounded. Then you obviously have no business here! He gave them a calm
9 y, m. M$ C* I4 ]0 _smile. "I will ask someone to help you. He will be in shortly."
5 A5 E3 m+ ?# aLeaving, the banker closed the door behind him and twisted a heavy lock, sealing them inside.
( h9 x) }+ `( |
2 U+ F( u" m* v% xAcross town, Collet was standing in the Gare du Nord train terminal when his phone rang.( c7 q5 |; z6 k" r2 D
It was Fache. "Interpol got a tip," he said. "Forget the train. Langdon and Neveu just walked into
5 Y* ~1 b( w% @7 a% x) ythe Paris branch of the Depository Bank of Zurich. I want your men over there right away."
9 p6 s: [5 u& P' h2 y5 H! E"Any leads yet on what Saunière was trying to tell Agent Neveu and Robert Langdon?"
4 z, o* I' {$ |Fache's tone was cold. "If you arrest them, Lieutenant Collet, then I can ask them personally."
# B* }/ s- w# r! ?Collet took the hint. "Twenty-four Rue Haxo. Right away, Captain." He hung up and radioed his ) d( P- [1 k8 q6 n( n& a$ C2 Z7 @
men.

André Vernet—president of the Paris branch of the Depository Bank of Zurich—lived in a lavish   B. @0 `. c6 [/ r5 l) X
flat above the bank. Despite his plush accommodations, he had always dreamed of owning a
! w% s, q2 Q5 oriverside apartment on L'lle Saint-Louis, where he could rub shoulders with the true cognoscenti, 2 \' d: X) ^" @8 q: }
rather than here, where he simply met the filthy rich.# R# r( L, P  p( t( p, u
When I retire, Vernet told himself, I will fill my cellar with rare Bordeaux, adorn my salon with a 3 f7 e8 W3 I2 w& R; J4 z$ l( ]
" \/ A$ c0 J5 C! T
Fragonard and perhaps a Boucher, and spend my days hunting for antique furniture and rare 9 D: O5 B8 z9 U# M* H' b4 f' \# c
books in the Quartier Latin.
0 E' \* T9 q% g9 jTonight, Vernet had been awake only six and a half minutes. Even so, as he hurried through the
4 @$ n; T2 l5 K6 Y# M. f2 wbank's underground corridor, he looked as if his personal tailor and hairdresser had polished him to ! G" Y8 U* T4 Y% X! P
a fine sheen. Impeccably dressed in a silk suit, Vernet sprayed some breath spray in his mouth and
3 w: a8 j# g! |; T7 }5 Ltightened his tie as he walked. No stranger to being awoken to attend to his international clients
7 x' O7 [$ ^+ d  }arriving from different time zones, Vernet modeled his sleep habits after the Maasai warriors—the
( D: G/ D' I0 ^0 W3 m  z% tAfrican tribe famous for their ability to rise from the deepest sleep to a state of total battle ( `5 X! h4 G  s4 Q) \0 V
readiness in a matter of seconds.
, ~$ S$ Z" E9 K3 m) G5 n& lBattle ready, Vernet thought, fearing the comparison might be uncharacteristically apt tonight. The ' [' s+ f+ v% K3 I) [* D4 E3 n: R
arrival of a gold key client always required an extra flurry of attention, but the arrival of a gold key
$ Y. |' {) l. Vclient who was wanted by the Judicial Police would be an extremely delicate matter. The bank had
4 w7 x% q$ K. zenough battles with law enforcement over the privacy rights of their clients without proof that * d; g7 P; ^2 i  `
some of them were criminals., u. P; s8 p* D9 ]/ q: s; t
Five minutes, Vernet told himself. I need these people out of my bank before the police arrive.
, R( w4 d* p5 E; {/ IIf he moved quickly, this impending disaster could be deftly sidestepped. Vernet could tell the , K, s( |3 a, |' b7 q% K
police that the fugitives in question had indeed walked into his bank as reported, but because they
; r9 Z3 k% T- _1 C- M4 j$ E) O# m  L; Kwere not clients and had no account number, they were turned away. He wished the damned 5 n( L7 n; J2 F2 L, ^" c) S
watchman had not called Interpol. Discretion was apparently not part of the vocabulary of a 15-
4 t# L  H% G+ u4 _% s0 beuro-per-hour watchman.$ r9 g  R2 A) r" ]6 ?9 ^; w, D
Stopping at the doorway, he took a deep breath and loosened his muscles. Then, forcing a balmy . @* f/ N* c9 f8 c8 K! l
smile, he unlocked the door and swirled into the room like a warm breeze.3 u( o% i& p! U
"Good evening," he said, his eyes finding his clients. "I am André Vernet. How can I be of serv—" 3 X- y' W: M% m0 f
The rest of the sentence lodged somewhere beneath his Adam's apple. The woman before him was ( B' e( o9 n' c+ S* L
as unexpected a visitor as Vernet had ever had.
0 E8 a- }5 \1 h6 r" E  B& J 3 R5 I0 B0 {, J, a5 P5 R$ I
"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" Sophie asked. She did not recognize the banker, but he for a
4 {& ?; ~8 h! O, T, e! {/ o$ qmoment looked as if he'd seen a ghost.& G/ {9 \8 L# |; N' @* h8 n5 R
"No...," the bank president fumbled. "I don't... believe so. Our services are anonymous." He - U; M; d3 `9 k* Z
exhaled and forced a calm smile. "My assistant tells me you have a gold key but no account
+ d# _) O7 e& o5 }number? Might I ask how you came by this key?"
* P; k; k0 g6 R"My grandfather gave it to me," Sophie replied, watching the man closely. His uneasiness seemed - n4 r7 e' n: c8 L1 }: \' X) K
more evident now.
* r' a6 l/ U  _1 d
0 }0 f/ g1 l+ [) t  G, x"Really? Your grandfather gave you the key but failed to give you the account number?"
. ]/ I, g$ i3 e) W$ a! G6 b) j9 t"I don't think he had time," Sophie said. "He was murdered tonight.". g, S8 E: U3 j: f4 f
Her words sent the man staggering backward. "Jacques Saunière is dead?" he demanded, his eyes
. }9 |# C' D0 s) `- R  Y4 {2 W2 X9 Tfilling with horror. "But... how?!"# ]+ [, |) B: K
Now it was Sophie who reeled, numb with shock. "You knew my grandfather?"
1 \6 h) F: p2 j: T& o+ s: nBanker André Vernet looked equally astounded, steadying himself by leaning on an end table.
6 z. Y' ^9 z5 [& B"Jacques and I were dear friends. When did this happen?"
4 p9 o3 x+ p7 D- x7 J6 s"Earlier this evening. Inside the Louvre."' w: O. J/ W" Z2 }/ W- K2 s  \5 @
Vernet walked to a deep leather chair and sank into it. "I need to ask you both a very important
6 X9 f3 I" w& W" Nquestion." He glanced up at Langdon and then back to Sophie. "Did either of you have anything to
' s* f7 ^! L1 i4 ndo with his death?"
9 \8 F: S* Z* |) k"No!" Sophie declared. "Absolutely not."4 Y2 N8 [6 Q! K  f, ^
Vernet's face was grim, and he paused, pondering. "Your pictures are being circulated by Interpol. 2 J& |# T9 D( c
This is how I recognized you. You're wanted for a murder."
" z/ f2 M% d0 f9 g5 tSophie slumped. Fache ran an Interpol broadcast already? It seemed the captain was more
$ l) f- K$ B5 s' h/ G) v$ Cmotivated than Sophie had anticipated. She quickly told Vernet who Langdon was and what had
* E% z% V6 B5 a! n& Fhappened inside the Louvre tonight.( s* f! I6 E* p# a# Z
Vernet looked amazed. "And as your grandfather was dying, he left you a message telling you to
7 y0 E" U" b; t% U1 [find Mr. Langdon?"
: E& s6 A- }, w1 w, I* N3 ], E"Yes. And this key." Sophie laid the gold key on the coffee table in front of Vernet, placing the
, N( R( G6 Z' E( |8 X/ l) [! ?4 u& u. ZPriory seal face down.. s4 {+ B9 z. b3 m+ `
Vernet glanced at the key but made no move to touch it. "He left you only this key? Nothing else? 4 U4 _( P- p- b3 [( Y
No slip of paper?"1 U+ c' o0 l* L& E9 d
Sophie knew she had been in a hurry inside the Louvre, but she was certain she had seen nothing
. M, V- r7 v% _; `) r1 ]else behind Madonna of the Rocks. "No. Just the key.": K) K6 A) P% L* T
Vernet gave a helpless sigh. "I'm afraid every key is electronically paired with a ten-digit account
6 g, V$ x1 W3 A2 o- S% Hnumber that functions as a password. Without that number, your key is worthless."5 v5 K0 M# L$ H! P
Ten digits. Sophie reluctantly calculated the cryptographic odds. Over ten billion possible choices.
/ c! l/ }3 g: R3 ]8 ?% ]2 z$ k" }1 Z
Even if she could bring in DCPJ's most powerful parallel processing computers, she still would & v& q/ A! s% L$ r6 F
need weeks to break the code. "Certainly, monsieur, considering the circumstances, you can help
6 h7 W$ s+ D/ Bus."' z: F7 ~2 _# e1 ]' j
"I'm sorry. I truly can do nothing. Clients select their own account numbers via a secure terminal, - y, Z* O" l+ `( [9 t8 [! O
meaning account numbers are known only to the client and computer. This is one way we ensure
* q. }" l$ \) ]* ^+ A' e. Z- Danonymity. And the safety of our employees."8 M' {7 ^$ W1 j6 U! O: C8 F* H0 m% z
Sophie understood. Convenience stores did the same thing. EMPLOYEES DO NOT HAVE KEYS 3 T/ [# K% X- M! S# o$ V
TO THE SAFE. This bank obviously did not want to risk someone stealing a key and then holding   u/ S* b7 H2 P; {
an employee hostage for the account number.
" A5 j1 p# T8 ?& p# NSophie sat down beside Langdon, glanced down at the key and then up at Vernet. "Do you have
, J. k) i: t# y/ hany idea what my grandfather is storing in your bank?") N" k1 }" v8 E
"None whatsoever. That is the definition of a Geldschrank bank."
$ O& V1 Q3 g; K. V- }4 ^6 a"Monsieur Vernet," she pressed, "our time tonight is short. I am going to be very direct if I may."
- [" i- f- q5 g  I# |She reached out to the gold key and flipped it over, watching the man's eyes as she revealed the ' \& j# E; s: ?" q5 L+ V4 {& |
Priory of Sion seal. "Does the symbol on this key mean anything to you?"( n5 m8 H, K6 M( P$ Y
Vernet glanced down at the fleur-de-lis seal and made no reaction. "No, but many of our clients 5 |- b$ _. E4 a, o! R3 R# z
emboss corporate logos or initials onto their keys."4 c# {$ m" n5 x  J; {2 v
Sophie sighed, still watching him carefully. "This seal is the symbol of a secret society known as $ r! c- e8 G2 U* T$ N' d
the Priory of Sion."
) H- K8 d/ \. c: f/ m' lVernet again showed no reaction. "I know nothing of this. Your grandfather was a friend, but we / o* W+ D; S& l) W4 I- D
spoke mostly of business." The man adjusted his tie, looking nervous now.# b0 K1 S6 B0 N) l' L; u8 Y) I- f% F
"Monsieur Vernet," Sophie pressed, her tone firm. "My grandfather called me tonight and told me
, H8 Z3 O0 z1 V& G: v4 D) m. [he and I were in grave danger. He said he had to give me something. He gave me a key to your
3 y5 d' w5 @  G/ X5 ebank. Now he is dead. Anything you can tell us would be helpful.": q) `; c0 I1 _$ L# f5 S, J
Vernet broke a sweat. "We need to get out of the building. I'm afraid the police will arrive shortly.
9 K1 n0 C! c! `% S" h1 WMy watchman felt obliged to call Interpol."
6 e7 ~8 A; G8 iSophie had feared as much. She took one last shot. "My grandfather said he needed to tell me the ) T8 s' `0 r3 j9 C8 x6 A  h
truth about my family. Does that mean anything to you?"
4 l5 G) H! u  T) {"Mademoiselle, your family died in a car accident when you were young. I'm sorry. I know your
4 D9 ~. g# V8 U  Zgrandfather loved you very much. He mentioned to me several times how much it pained him that
, q' ^' N) W* u4 H/ N% |3 {you two had fallen out of touch."
0 C3 x* L4 z9 c7 x& ~
3 \- q# g- R- Z( W/ VSophie was uncertain how to respond.. h+ _, R. z6 z* r. ^/ x0 u
Langdon asked, "Do the contents of this account have anything to do with the Sangreal?"
' p4 t& \# Y3 X1 I4 m; aVernet gave him an odd look. "I have no idea what that is." Just then, Vernet's cell phone rang, and + o' p0 U4 P, h
he snatched it off his belt. "Oui?" He listened a moment, his expression one of surprise and
- u% w3 N; o* E  W$ t( Zgrowing concern. "La police? Si rapidement?" He cursed, gave some quick directions in French, - N1 x8 n4 `% E' h) e& Y
and said he would be up to the lobby in a minute.! Z4 _, q0 f7 C; N, C0 ^- E" l; h
Hanging up the phone, he turned back to Sophie. "The police have responded far more quickly than
3 T# J! B3 ~  Z7 L3 ^( r4 e) ^usual. They are arriving as we speak."# w( d( Y7 N( Y0 Y9 f0 G$ m* S9 A' u
Sophie had no intention of leaving empty-handed. "Tell them we came and went already. If they ) T! A) `( k$ I2 R# F" d- }8 P$ R
want to search the bank, demand a search warrant. That will take them time."4 X# |3 ^  u, q* R1 G9 u# [5 P0 |
"Listen," Vernet said, "Jacques was a friend, and my bank does not need this kind of press, so for ; R8 Y2 B6 I8 x/ L  D+ a4 l/ x8 ^5 H
those two reasons, I have no intention of allowing this arrest to be made on my premises. Give me
  m* j; ?+ N) ~( n, [1 _* c" F5 oa minute and I will see what I can do to help you leave the bank undetected. Beyond that, I cannot
, s0 c1 ^2 y' Q3 T( Mget involved." He stood up and hurried for the door. "Stay here. I'll make arrangements and be right
! f+ Z5 x4 d5 e6 d8 Rback."* z% X& Q6 }) C5 ?5 v4 @
"But the safe-deposit box," Sophie declared. "We can't just leave."
/ E; D+ E) h$ [1 N2 G"There's nothing I can do," Vernet said, hurrying out the door. "I'm sorry."
: d; {) c( `0 L- _8 _Sophie stared after him a moment, wondering if maybe the account number was buried in one of 1 B0 Z* n6 d6 G
the countless letters and packages her grandfather had sent her over the years and which she had
- w: ^9 X  h$ U" P+ h1 P  Qleft unopened.* C0 \$ ~4 V; [+ J8 [
Langdon stood suddenly, and Sophie sensed an unexpected glimmer of contentment in his eyes.0 S' H; H7 J% X4 b
"Robert? You're smiling."
$ j1 n" T& G% f) p4 h% V& t. f. J"Your grandfather was a genius."
# g) B- m0 A* i"I'm sorry?"! T. E7 d) j5 l3 g$ W
"Ten digits?"
( _7 [$ T. y  W, `  U) R9 dSophie had no idea what he was talking about.7 R9 w, B8 O' O. m8 \
"The account number," he said, a familiar lopsided grin now craning his face. "I'm pretty sure he : K7 k- @, J0 z' s
# j' P  d- z) [8 G5 b7 k
left it for us after all.": H& c5 I% \  S
"Where?". ?% [( c8 x2 F& [5 I- g
Langdon produced the printout of the crime scene photo and spread it out on the coffee table. 2 D' [) j9 A" b
Sophie needed only to read the first line to know Langdon was correct.0 P( O7 j% i4 s
13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5  _2 `' Z# V0 g' \, x
O, Draconian devil!
) `9 S9 ]/ r3 bOh, lame saint!
& k  D0 H1 H8 e& w# a; qP.S. Find Robert Langdon

"Ten digits," Sophie said, her cryptologic senses tingling as she studied the printout.3 w/ c. A2 |+ ^' O% V
13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5& i# }; _( a7 v  L/ v/ L. \
Grand-père wrote his account number on the Louvre floor!3 P6 s& P0 O8 I
When Sophie had first seen the scrambled Fibonacci sequence on the parquet, she had assumed its 1 W* V" U6 w1 d7 ~( Z- \" {" B, ^6 Y
sole purpose was to encourage DCPJ to call in their cryptographers and get Sophie involved. Later, 3 y, `0 |* b* `2 S# V! [
she realized the numbers were also a clue as to how to decipher the other lines—a sequence out of
  [2 ]* a- e4 }! Z" v" Morder... a numeric anagram. Now, utterly amazed, she saw the numbers had a more important
( J9 |7 z3 u- q& nmeaning still. They were almost certainly the final key to opening her grandfather's mysterious safe-
) L  D# x, ]1 K2 D' z% s/ Tdeposit box.
  j$ }! A5 p! q"He was the master of double-entendres," Sophie said, turning to Langdon. "He loved anything
; v% X$ R! c/ I  o5 _' S( Iwith multiple layers of meaning. Codes within codes."+ g! `; @- @+ \4 T; `5 _3 e0 I
Langdon was already moving toward the electronic podium near the conveyor belt. Sophie grabbed
# C' y( B: l) `, _the computer printout and followed.
/ |  _$ H$ {! _; @/ A) xThe podium had a keypad similar to that of a bank ATM terminal. The screen displayed the bank's & a0 P/ T. x, X; z$ l/ H
cruciform logo. Beside the keypad was a triangular hole. Sophie wasted no time inserting the shaft
4 j$ Z0 g2 R$ L, V4 kof her key into the hole.
+ v+ d" ]( R  s; A4 c. ?& eThe screen refreshed instantly.
1 j, J! P* l: `7 P0 WACCOUNT NUMBER: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _% r9 [3 ~8 G5 e5 i+ E

- A" D. l5 [! B. c% w / W9 ]+ m+ c/ u5 Y% I$ E! [* T
The cursor blinked. Waiting.5 I2 i+ ]" s: A& V: V; ]. x
Ten digits. Sophie read the numbers off the printout, and Langdon typed them in./ G, ^# d  w  p4 W  a1 u7 u" R8 G
ACCOUNT NUMBER: 1332211185: c  r! W3 R0 \/ o7 @
, T0 ^2 M- J# p; a9 e) Z
When he had typed the last digit, the screen refreshed again. A message in several languages
  i: K% T# x! K8 oappeared. English was on top.
" G" h0 [, B2 }' P2 WCAUTION:
! }  R) r; ~! q, ~" W$ G1 QBefore you strike the enter key, please check the accuracy of your 8 r6 n$ U6 d5 C8 X/ i0 R: y
account number.# a5 G, U, n$ F8 C* o( A) z
For your own security, if the computer does not recognize your # r, q% h4 }; A. I1 x& z/ [
account number, this system will automatically shut down.
# d3 B' S2 V+ [6 C) _$ [2 N* g& z
8 O" U% n5 s. [: v1 j3 U"Fonction terminer," Sophie said, frowning. "Looks like we only get one try." Standard ATM
) O  |4 V2 S7 K& B; n8 ?2 ^6 `machines allowed users three attempts to type a PIN before confiscating their bank card. This was
/ M- R: s6 ?$ r* n4 N+ s7 k: hobviously no ordinary cash machine.
' y4 {4 B% ?7 V"The number looks right," Langdon confirmed, carefully checking what they had typed and
, N  K: b0 m) M0 \5 N/ p- f; Z& ~, K- tcomparing it to the printout. He motioned to the ENTER key. "Fire away."
( q- s9 D& W  A, u5 v8 A; z1 wSophie extended her index finger toward the keypad, but hesitated, an odd thought now hitting her.
4 o% Z1 S: N6 n4 ^8 E"Go ahead," Langdon urged. "Vernet will be back soon."5 S. J% E- S* O" V5 m5 L- ?0 ^
"No." She pulled her hand away. "This isn't the right account number."
) L4 i4 ^) A* G* s; g"Of course it is! Ten digits. What else would it be?"
/ e+ }; u  v& v& G"It's too random."
0 l% C- Y, w  [, V0 v3 KToo random? Langdon could not have disagreed more. Every bank advised its customers to choose 5 c3 i0 k* J1 m) I% `! F6 d
PINs at random so nobody could guess them. Certainly clients here would be advised to choose
/ V4 H! a0 s$ S0 Ktheir account numbers at random.
; y0 r5 }+ s1 T6 S' l* |
1 i5 W8 `+ Y* e3 d' ^Sophie deleted everything she had just typed in and looked up at Langdon, her gaze self-assured.
. b0 ~2 g+ y& X# t. q, X( c3 D"It's far too coincidental that this supposedly random account number could be rearranged to form 9 }4 y2 O2 \  U# t
the Fibonacci sequence."
% t8 r0 Y$ ?/ B! @; mLangdon realized she had a point. Earlier, Sophie had rearranged this account number into the $ X  f, ^. v( \/ O
Fibonacci sequence. What were the odds of being able to do that?4 f: H8 a5 [( K( b( W- Y
Sophie was at the keypad again, entering a different number, as if from memory. "Moreover, with
2 v  ]% x( I2 @! P& bmy grandfather's love of symbolism and codes, it seems to follow that he would have chosen an , D  g# E* Q" m" v- ?3 ]4 b
account number that had meaning to him, something he could easily remember." She finished
: P. h( z, ^9 P. i# \$ L' h) Ttyping the entry and gave a sly smile. "Something that appeared random... but was not." Langdon   h5 s3 |: s% ?  h
looked at the screen." @/ C! o2 e. U) d/ I% W
ACCOUNT NUMBER: 11235813210 t% x6 S" @) }' F+ ^8 \6 A/ {

! B" m) L- z- m% u+ j# oIt took him an instant, but when Langdon spotted it, he knew she was right.( `  ^# j4 V0 Z+ {( C, d: f' ?
The Fibonacci sequence.! E2 r/ c; c0 I' i- t
1-1-2-3-5-8-13-21
& K; \2 e* O  h6 g, _. |% A' C, `When the Fibonacci sequence was melded into a single ten-digit number, it became virtually / u' h' N! a& O* K$ u% C
unrecognizable. Easy to remember, and yet seemingly random. A brilliant ten-digit code that 1 t5 o+ E$ N: l: c! i, J! [
Saunière would never forget. Furthermore, it perfectly explained why the scrambled numbers on
6 w7 d. {7 }0 F5 `5 P, ?the Louvre floor could be rearranged to form the famous progression.
% q( x6 O4 j" L. ?( MSophie reached down and pressed the ENTER key.  |7 e, f" s8 Z" I/ C# v
Nothing happened.- T# t9 P( _# K9 z3 n
At least nothing they could detect.2 H! \. n5 T5 R/ H
9 o; l( f& J" U3 m8 n7 E0 f! f
At that moment, beneath them, in the bank's cavernous subterranean vault, a robotic claw sprang to
  v" _4 }. ]4 Glife. Sliding on a double-axis transport system attached to the ceiling, the claw headed off in search , Q7 C% ]5 F7 e; r; a
of the proper coordinates. On the cement floor below, hundreds of identical plastic crates lay
# E2 B1 R$ f& _* aaligned on an enormous grid... like rows of small coffins in an underground crypt.
" K% R3 t8 R$ ~- |9 B3 h, O, zWhirring to a stop over the correct spot on the floor, the claw dropped down, an electric eye ( w5 h- r6 N) Q% d1 ^  J1 x% f. \
confirming the bar code on the box. Then, with computer precision, the claw grasped the heavy
8 t2 C* @, k+ t7 @3 c1 T2 ahandle and hoisted the crate vertically. New gears engaged, and the claw transported the box to the 0 D; s2 s$ Y0 l( t% ]

% G" V: ?5 D, O% s: R, R0 Efar side of the vault, coming to a stop over a stationary conveyor belt.; ~8 j' v. }# f4 m
Gently now, the retrieval arm set down the crate and retracted.) r& T! v  t3 a) ~  v8 n. T0 J) ^9 }
Once the arm was clear, the conveyor belt whirred to life....9 Y/ X* z! l- q6 [

7 X. _% }. C. p' I$ Z" i# sUpstairs, Sophie and Langdon exhaled in relief to see the conveyor belt move. Standing beside the
$ i" \2 G0 z% N& E4 _/ G6 |5 p, Mbelt, they felt like weary travelers at baggage claim awaiting a mysterious piece of luggage whose
  Y) i5 I  a+ S$ p  ]contents were unknown.  A+ |& H) R% _" \. L
The conveyor belt entered the room on their right through a narrow slit beneath a retractable door. ; A. Y/ {5 R4 r$ j5 j8 Q3 @5 a
The metal door slid up, and a huge plastic box appeared, emerging from the depths on the inclined ) U( b  ]- ^$ Q/ E3 I
conveyor belt. The box was black, heavy molded plastic, and far larger than she imagined. It   X( F7 m" y: K
looked like an air-freight pet transport crate without any airholes.5 N0 a" M7 M* }1 F9 `% D% B3 ]9 R
The box coasted to a stop directly in front of them.6 d6 _) N* i6 n; e
Langdon and Sophie stood there, silent, staring at the mysterious container.
+ F5 p2 n* m8 Z) l- t- \) nLike everything else about this bank, this crate was industrial—metal clasps, a bar code sticker on
0 h, J- }- g5 Y6 Utop, and molded heavy-duty handle. Sophie thought it looked like a giant toolbox.5 B4 w# A$ x7 _
Wasting no time, Sophie unhooked the two buckles facing her. Then she glanced over at Langdon. 3 D0 t. H( j6 F8 {' V
Together, they raised the heavy lid and let it fall back.  y& r* y* W+ n. E; t
Stepping forward, they peered down into the crate.
/ }! S. ~2 m" G3 D7 G% k5 TAt first glance, Sophie thought the crate was empty. Then she saw something. Sitting at the bottom + Z5 M' ^/ K8 e0 M
of the crate. A lone item./ p/ G4 c2 h' E! D  U. [6 k  z+ J
The polished wooden box was about the size of a shoebox and had ornate hinges. The wood was a
  U. @; _7 v/ B, p2 J' I1 jlustrous deep purple with a strong grain. Rosewood, Sophie realized. Her grandfather's favorite.
* Q- s7 n! \7 d- j7 h0 QThe lid bore a beautiful inlaid design of a rose. She and Langdon exchanged puzzled looks. Sophie : g1 S" [# R5 G
leaned in and grabbed the box, lifting it out.
# Z1 D. [% O* p5 qMy God, it's heavy!+ u4 W7 x. l1 K8 P2 h
She carried it gingerly to a large receiving table and set it down. Langdon stood beside her, both of
9 [* B! J$ ?2 Z. K; `/ B' E8 Ythem staring at the small treasure chest her grandfather apparently had sent them to retrieve.
5 r" x8 i% R4 V* T+ T( P: c% {% B- mLangdon stared in wonderment at the lid's hand-carved inlay—a five-petal rose. He had seen this 0 i) b7 S3 E% d! U$ o6 f

1 N3 [- e) A4 ptype of rose many times. "The five-petal rose," he whispered, "is a Priory symbol for the Holy
, _8 Q% K& \: `7 N8 e6 L8 |Grail."
- m8 t( M$ }1 u  ESophie turned and looked at him. Langdon could see what she was thinking, and he was thinking it
1 y, [1 s& P! x' s* Z4 ~1 s7 Ctoo. The dimensions of the box, the apparent weight of its contents, and a Priory symbol for the
, [) m% |; b; z( ?/ ZGrail all seemed to imply one unfathomable conclusion. The Cup of Christ is in this wooden box. 0 c! g7 O: y3 ^1 y, Y0 P
Langdon again told himself it was impossible.
# O" K& c; Q: p0 U"It's a perfect size," Sophie whispered, "to hold... a chalice."
; h  }2 q; `# N/ |0 e3 TIt can't be a chalice.
- c% b. ]: E* T3 USophie pulled the box toward her across the table, preparing to open it. As she moved it, though, ' {- m: y' V; i4 q7 C
something unexpected happened. The box let out an odd gurgling sound.
2 Y2 n: s4 {6 T6 mLangdon did a double take. There's liquid inside?
% B; ?- a0 `+ b( OSophie looked equally confused. "Did you just hear...?"8 ]1 k! \! s) r+ t, T
Langdon nodded, lost. "Liquid."2 B- k9 @: n" X- p4 q
Reaching forward, Sophie slowly unhooked the clasp and raised the lid.) h4 R  B! u$ k( y" I! ~4 m
The object inside was unlike anything Langdon had ever seen. One thing was immediately clear to 5 h( ]2 w* E8 j
both of them, however. This was definitely not the Cup of Christ.

"The police are blocking the street," André Vernet said, walking into the waiting room. "Getting
6 y1 U+ S2 a" D. J6 ryou out will be difficult." As he closed the door behind him, Vernet saw the heavy-duty plastic
$ ]) l& @+ h5 T! n8 z; \! dcase on the conveyor belt and halted in his tracks. My God! They accessed Saunière's account?8 I: U# J; U3 d. V3 H
Sophie and Langdon were at the table, huddling over what looked to be a large wooden jewelry 1 J. o8 @4 I& `/ G" M7 x1 m/ V
box. Sophie immediately closed the lid and looked up. "We had the account number after all," she
& ]7 \6 H8 l/ V0 ~- s  hsaid.# Z6 n7 F2 N; d/ U7 U. L
Vernet was speechless. This changed everything. He respectfully diverted his eyes from the box " D3 \* }- G2 Q3 i$ }
and tried to figure out his next move. I have to get them out of the bank! But with the police already , K7 g% U  s! m) N6 n
having set up a roadblock, Vernet could imagine only one way to do that. "Mademoiselle Neveu, if
: ~4 l& N5 t7 S8 Z; g8 x& S8 qI can get you safely out of the bank, will you be taking the item with you or returning it to the vault
* V! i4 r; {6 i9 b- N' J6 lbefore you leave?"- j! H$ p( i4 D  w
4 Q7 E! V' f6 \8 M2 n! K
Sophie glanced at Langdon and then back to Vernet. "We need to take it."0 b) S# x) P5 b
Vernet nodded. "Very well. Then whatever the item is, I suggest you wrap it in your jacket as we
7 w8 o5 h9 k7 a( v- o3 t* Nmove through the hallways. I would prefer nobody else see it."% ?$ c/ |5 z0 L3 W2 m
As Langdon shed his jacket, Vernet hurried over to the conveyor belt, closed the now empty crate, + z% }* n) ?( |# ?1 t) J
and typed a series of simple commands. The conveyor belt began moving again, carrying the
; |9 ]1 _) K; b5 ]- }$ {plastic container back down to the vault. Pulling the gold key from the podium, he handed it to ' h/ L& |3 c) E: i% n9 G2 z3 V. ?
Sophie.
0 I$ ]$ J6 N; }" ~"This way please. Hurry."
3 K6 w; F( ^+ }1 ?% ^5 b; {When they reached the rear loading dock, Vernet could see the flash of police lights filtering
6 S, t6 {4 |! h- D! @& S# {4 V' Dthrough the underground garage. He frowned. They were probably blocking the ramp. Am I really
' I& \4 d6 O( j$ j: F8 Vgoing to try to pull this off? He was sweating now.0 d  x6 R3 l9 a9 T7 k) N/ u9 W/ J# K
Vernet motioned to one of the bank's small armored trucks. Transport sur was another service : l4 ~9 Q3 P0 L( A1 ?. J6 Q+ p5 c
offered by the Depository Bank of Zurich.
  R7 V- ?2 S) N6 J% e. j"Get in the cargo hold," he said, heaving open the massive rear door and motioning to the . A% d/ X0 Y" `8 ?" }# z2 y+ l
glistening steel compartment. "I'll be right back."' O& a- x2 r: \, v+ G
As Sophie and Langdon climbed in, Vernet hurried across the loading dock to the dock overseer's
+ G7 W. T2 A5 {, ioffice, let himself in, collected the keys for the truck, and found a driver's uniform jacket and cap.
1 u4 Z4 j* C' I( M% w% ^, {Shedding his own suit coat and tie, he began to put on the driver's jacket. Reconsidering, he donned 4 o% R3 P1 q* P. h, [# S  r
a shoulder holster beneath the uniform. On his way out, he grabbed a driver's pistol from the rack, 7 D" A9 \5 \  ?6 @8 H" ~
put in a clip, and stuffed it in the holster, buttoning his uniform over it. Returning to the truck,
( k2 N' j0 \1 F; s2 |- k. v4 xVernet pulled the driver's cap down low and peered in at Sophie and Langdon, who were standing
! S6 R  t' M6 Z2 ~inside the empty steel box.
5 n- R7 d: N& R& c$ c4 B' L"You'll want this on," Vernet said, reaching inside and flicking a wall switch to illuminate the lone
& v# e& i, ?/ R' G+ S  C4 kcourtesy bulb on the hold's ceiling. "And you'd better sit down. Not a sound on our way out the
- L" W. }+ v- N+ F  X: \5 |gate."2 p! T6 M5 d4 x* @$ ]* l) e- h
Sophie and Langdon sat down on the metal floor. Langdon cradled the treasure wadded in his
1 c) G. |# N7 v. otweed jacket. Swinging the heavy doors closed, Vernet locked them inside. Then he got in behind , u: w: a; l) U* Y9 B" Q
the wheel and revved the engine.
; v8 ^4 k- f4 ~3 f. ]$ R: z2 UAs the armored truck lumbered toward the top of the ramp, Vernet could feel the sweat already
" ^' I% \. j% k# n0 D& ucollecting beneath his driver's cap. He could see there were far more police lights in front than he
) W2 a+ z. U9 ghad imagined. As the truck powered up the ramp, the interior gate swung inward to let him pass.
0 `4 R1 t, {/ \- oVernet advanced and waited while the gate behind him closed before pulling forward and tripping
/ X  L/ T, ]" ^2 S8 B
; l% j% y0 R3 Q+ C& W& d8 v3 uthe next sensor. The second gate opened, and the exit beckoned.6 N3 l4 _. P. Z" b1 q
Except for the police car blocking the top of the ramp.1 f9 s6 ?$ I7 O4 A4 K
Vernet dabbed his brow and pulled forward.
+ n& _+ Q7 z+ M* B+ R# lA lanky officer stepped out and waved him to a stop a few meters from the roadblock. Four patrol 5 n% |5 _3 e5 S
cars were parked out front.- |6 M3 `$ a+ a( b( l# u
Vernet stopped. Pulling his driver's cap down farther, he effected as rough a facade as his cultured . P4 ?0 H* Y0 }: h7 A
upbringing would allow. Not budging from behind the wheel, he opened the door and gazed down 7 e! L1 d: Y( B5 b
at the agent, whose face was stern and sallow.
) c. ?/ q  l, }( ^/ s"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" Vernet asked, his tone rough.
2 a9 K# f, t. n2 ^1 K"Je suis Jérome Collet," the agent said. "Lieutenant Police Judiciaire." He motioned to the truck's ) o* G: w& u+ l1 E/ x) P
cargo hold. "Qu'est-ce qu'ily a là dedans?"
( L( l/ o* b% ~0 X3 v$ ~3 z- b"Hell if I know," Vernet replied in crude French. "I'm only a driver.". Z9 M( G6 `7 D6 q6 _
Collet looked unimpressed. "We're looking for two criminals."1 `$ R/ B; `, e; }
Vernet laughed. "Then you came to the right spot. Some of these bastards I drive for have so much
* ^( F' ^- v9 L, i8 ]money they must be criminals."
3 o% z" l2 W1 t2 J  |The agent held up a passport picture of Robert Langdon. "Was this man in your bank tonight?"( i" l# d# T) R9 |6 D) P2 E
Vernet shrugged. "No clue. I'm a dock rat. They don't let us anywhere near the clients. You need to
4 q& A5 I! P" j1 p+ Ngo in and ask the front desk."  P0 j8 d7 [$ C% D% J  ?1 I
"Your