《达芬奇密码》-------《The Da Vinci Code》中英文对照 （完结）_派派后花园

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[Novel] 《达芬奇密码》-------《The Da Vinci Code》中英文对照 （完结）

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Chapter 40
Struggling with the gear shift, Langdon managed to maneuver the hijacked taxi to the far side ofthe Bois de Boulogne while stalling only twice. Unfortunately, the inherent humor in the situationwas overshadowed by the taxi dispatcher repeatedly hailing their cab over the radio.
　　"Voiture cinq-six-trois. Où êtes-vous? Répondez!"When Langdon reached the exit of the park, he swallowed his machismo and jammed on thebrakes. "You'd better drive."Sophie looked relieved as she jumped behind the wheel. Within seconds she had the car hummingsmoothly westward along Allée de Longchamp, leaving the Garden of Earthly Delights behind.
　　"Which way is Rue Haxo?" Langdon asked, watching Sophie edge the speedometer over a hundredkilometers an hour.
　　Sophie's eyes remained focused on the road. "The cab driver said it's adjacent to the Roland Garrostennis stadium. I know that area."Langdon pulled the heavy key from his pocket again, feeling the weight in his palm. He sensed itwas an object of enormous consequence. Quite possibly the key to his own freedom.
　　Earlier, while telling Sophie about the Knights Templar, Langdon had realized that this key, inaddition to having the Priory seal embossed on it, possessed a more subtle tie to the Priory of Sion.
　　The equal-armed cruciform was symbolic of balance and harmony but also of the Knights Templar.
　　Everyone had seen the paintings of Knights Templar wearing white tunics emblazoned with redequal-armed crosses. Granted, the arms of the Templar cross were slightly flared at the ends, butthey were still of equal length.
　　A square cross. Just like the one on this key.
　　Langdon felt his imagination starting to run wild as he fantasized about what they might find. TheHoly Grail. He almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. The Grail was believed to besomewhere in England, buried in a hidden chamber beneath one of the many Templar churches,where it had been hidden since at least 1500.
　　The era of Grand Master Da Vinci.
　　The Priory, in order to keep their powerful documents safe, had been forced to move them manytimes in the early centuries. Historians now suspected as many as six different Grail relocationssince its arrival in Europe from Jerusalem. The last Grail "sighting" had been in 1447 whennumerous eyewitnesses described a fire that had broken out and almost engulfed the documentsbefore they were carried to safety in four huge chests that each required six men to carry. Afterthat, nobody claimed to see the Grail ever again. All that remained were occasional whisperingsthat it was hidden in Great Britain, the land of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.
　　Wherever it was, two important facts remained:
　　Leonardo knew where the Grail resided during his lifetime.
　　That hiding place had probably not changed to this day.
　　For this reason, Grail enthusiasts still pored over Da Vinci's art and diaries in hopes of unearthing ahidden clue as to the Grail's current location. Some claimed the mountainous backdrop in Madonnaof the Rocks matched the topography of a series of cave-ridden hills in Scotland. Others insistedthat the suspicious placement of disciples in The Last Supper was some kind of code. Still othersclaimed that X rays of the Mona Lisa revealed she originally had been painted wearing a lapislazuli pendant of Isis—a detail Da Vinci purportedly later decided to paint over. Langdon hadnever seen any evidence of the pendant, nor could he imagine how it could possibly reveal theHoly Grail, and yet Grail aficionados still discussed it ad nauseum on Internet bulletin boards andworldwide-web chat rooms.
　　Everyone loves a conspiracy.
　　And the conspiracies kept coming. Most recently, of course, had been the earthshaking discoverythat Da Vinci's famed Adoration of the Magi was hiding a dark secret beneath its layers of paint.
　　Italian art diagnostician Maurizio Seracini had unveiled the unsettling truth, which the New YorkTimes Magazine carried prominently in a story titled "The Leonardo Cover-Up."Seracini had revealed beyond any doubt that while the Adoration's gray-green sketchedunderdrawing was indeed Da Vinci's work, the painting itself was not. The truth was that someanonymous painter had filled in Da Vinci's sketch like a paint-by-numbers years after Da Vinci'sdeath. Far more troubling, however, was what lay beneath the impostor's paint. Photographs takenwith infrared reflectography and X ray suggested that this rogue painter, while filling in Da Vinci'ssketched study, had made suspicious departures from the underdrawing... as if to subvert DaVinci's true intention. Whatever the true nature of the underdrawing, it had yet to be made public.
　　Even so, embarrassed officials at Florence's Uffizi Gallery immediately banished the painting to awarehouse across the street. Visitors at the gallery's Leonardo Room now found a misleading andunapologetic plaque where the Adoration once hung.
　　THIS WORK IS UNDERGOINGDIAGNOSTIC TESTS IN PREPARATIONFOR RESTORATION.
　　In the bizarre underworld of modern Grail seekers, Leonardo da Vinci remained the quest's greatenigma. His artwork seemed bursting to tell a secret, and yet whatever it was remained hidden,perhaps beneath a layer of paint, perhaps enciphered in plain view, or perhaps nowhere at all.
　　Maybe Da Vinci's plethora of tantalizing clues was nothing but an empty promise left behind tofrustrate the curious and bring a smirk to the face of his knowing Mona Lisa.
　　"Is it possible," Sophie asked, drawing Langdon back, "that the key you're holding unlocks thehiding place of the Holy Grail?"Langdon's laugh sounded forced, even to him. "I really can't imagine. Besides, the Grail is believedto be hidden in the United Kingdom somewhere, not France." He gave her the quick history.
　　"But the Grail seems the only rational conclusion," she insisted. "We have an extremely secure key,stamped with the Priory of Sion seal, delivered to us by a member of the Priory of Sion—abrotherhood which, you just told me, are guardians of the Holy Grail."Langdon knew her contention was logical, and yet intuitively he could not possibly accept it.
　　Rumors existed that the Priory had vowed someday to bring the Grail back to France to a finalresting place, but certainly no historical evidence existed to suggest that this indeed had happened.
　　Even if the Priory had managed to bring the Grail back to France, the address 24 Rue Haxo near atennis stadium hardly sounded like a noble final resting place. "Sophie, I really don't see how thiskey could have anything to do with the Grail.""Because the Grail is supposed to be in England?""Not only that. The location of the Holy Grail is one of the best kept secrets in history. Priorymembers wait decades proving themselves trustworthy before being elevated to the highestechelons of the fraternity and learning where the Grail is. That secret is protected by an intricatesystem of compartmentalized knowledge, and although the Priory brotherhood is very large, onlyfour members at any given time know where the Grail is hidden—the Grand Master and his threesénéchaux. The probability of your grandfather being one of those four top people is very slim."My grandfather was one of them, Sophie thought, pressing down on the accelerator. She had animage stamped in her memory that confirmed her grandfather's status within the brotherhoodbeyond any doubt.
　　"And even if your grandfather were in the upper echelon, he would never be allowed to revealanything to anyone outside the brotherhood. It is inconceivable that he would bring you into theinner circle."I've already been there, Sophie thought, picturing the ritual in the basement. She wondered if thiswere the moment to tell Langdon what she had witnessed that night in the Normandy chateau. Forten years now, simple shame had kept her from telling a soul. Just thinking about it, she shuddered.
　　Sirens howled somewhere in the distance, and she felt a thickening shroud of fatigue settling overher.
　　"There!" Langdon said, feeling excited to see the huge complex of the Roland Garros tennisstadium looming ahead.
　　Sophie snaked her way toward the stadium. After several passes, they located the intersection ofRue Haxo and turned onto it, driving in the direction of the lower numbers. The road became moreindustrial, lined with businesses.
　　We need number twenty-four, Langdon told himself, realizing he was secretly scanning the horizonfor the spires of a church. Don't be ridiculous. A forgotten Templar church in this neighborhood?
　　"There it is," Sophie exclaimed, pointing.
　　Langdon's eyes followed to the structure ahead.
　　What in the world?
　　The building was modern. A squat citadel with a giant, neon equal-armed cross emblazoned atopits facade. Beneath the cross were the words:
　　DEPOSITORY BANK OF ZURICHLangdon was thankful not to have shared his Templar church hopes with Sophie. A career hazardof symbologists was a tendency to extract hidden meaning from situations that had none. In thiscase, Langdon had entirely forgotten that the peaceful, equal-armed cross had been adopted as theperfect symbol for the flag of neutral Switzerland.
　　At least the mystery was solved.
　　Sophie and Langdon were holding the key to a Swiss bank deposit box.
兰登竭力试图换档。出租车在熄了两次火后，终于被开到了路边。然而，此刻的轻松却被出租车调度员的声音打破了。
"喂？听到请回答。"
兰登勉强将车开到公园门口，实在开不下去了。于是，他不得不放下男子汉的架子，对索菲说："还是由你来开吧。"
索菲跳到驾驶座上，长吁了一口气。几秒钟之后，出租车就平稳地驶离了"尘世乐土"。
索菲越开越快，渐渐地把车速提到了一百公里以上。兰登问道："你知道路吗？"
索菲盯着前方的路，说道："根据出租车司机的描述，我应该是知道那个地方的。"
兰登又掏出了那把钥匙，觉得它沉甸甸的。他意识到这把钥匙事关重大，也许还关系到自己的自由。
刚才在给索菲讲述圣殿武士团故事的时候，他就忽然意识到这把钥匙除了带有隐修会的标记外，还跟隐修会有着更微妙的关系。等边十字架除了代表圣殿武士外，也象征着平衡与和谐。凡是见过圣殿武土肖像的人，都会发现他们的白色战袍上绣着红色的等边十字图案。
等边十字。跟这把钥匙上的图案一模一样。
兰登一边猜想着他们可能会发现什么，一边感叹自己的想象力真是太丰富了。圣杯。
他不禁为自己的荒唐猜测笑出了声。要知道，人们都认为1500 多年以来，圣杯一直被藏在英国某个教堂的地底下。
从达。芬奇时代以来就一直被藏在那里。
早期的几百年里，隐修会为了保护那些具有神奇力量的文件，曾多次被迫迁址。据历史学家估计，自隐修会从耶路撒冷迁到欧洲以后，曾先后六次更换埋藏圣杯的地方。圣杯的最后一次"露面"是在1447 年。当时，许多人都证实说一场大火险些把那些文件吞没，幸亏它们被装进了几个六个人才能抬动的大箱子里，随后被运到了安全的地方。从那以后，没有人再见过圣杯的踪迹。只是偶尔有些传说，说它被藏在了养育亚瑟王和他的圆桌骑土的地方--大英帝国。
不管它被藏在哪里，有两点重要事实可以肯定：达。芬奇在世的时候知道圣杯藏在哪里！
那个埋藏圣杯的地点极有可能至今未变！
因此，那些圣杯的狂热追寻者依然痴狂地钻研着达。芬奇的艺术作品和日记，试图找出有关圣杯埋藏地的蛛丝马迹。有人声称，《岩间圣母》那山峦连绵的背景，好像画的是苏格兰境内某个布满了山洞的小山群。而有人则坚持，《最后的晚餐》中耶稣门徒们的位置安排令人生疑，那是暗示圣杯埋藏地的密码。而另外还有人宣称，通过对《蒙娜丽莎》进行X光检查可以发现，蒙娜丽莎原本戴着青金石的耳环，耳环上有古埃及生育女神伊希斯的肖像。可是，传说后来达。芬奇又把耳环用油彩涂上了。兰登从来就没发现那幅画上有什么耳环的迹象，也想象不出它跟圣杯有什么关系。然而，那些圣杯迷们还是在国际互联网的留言版和聊天室里激烈地讨论着这一假想。
人人都喜欢带有传奇色彩的秘密。
这样的神奇秘密还有许多。最近揭开的一个秘密要数对达。芬奇名画《受膜拜的麦琪》的新发现。意大利艺术家毛瑞梓里奥。萨拉斯尼揭开了一个鲜为人知的真相，而纽约《时代》杂志则以《列昂纳多掩盖的秘密》为题对此作了大篇幅的报道。
萨拉斯尼肯定地指出，虽然《受膜拜的麦琪》是达。芬奇起草的，但他却并没有完成创作。事实上，那是一位匿名画家在达。芬奇去世多年之后利用那幅草图完成的。而且那位匿名画家在画中还隐藏了秘密。用红外线反射仪和X 光照出的照片显示，这个调皮的画家，在完成达。芬奇的草图时，对原作作了令人费解的改动，好像要故意改变达。芬奇的真正意图。不管原画的意图是什么，它都应该被公之于众。然而，这个报道发表之后，佛罗伦萨幽夫斯展览馆的官员们还是停止了这幅画的展出，把它放到了街对面的储藏室里。现在去那个展览馆参观"达。芬奇展厅"的游客只能在原来挂画的地方看到一块敷衍游客的牌子，上面写着：此画正在接受检测，以备修复。
对圣杯的追寻者们而言，列昂纳多。达。芬奇始终是最大的谜团。他的作品里似乎充满了秘密，但所有的秘密都被掩藏着：也许藏在油彩的下面，也许藏在平面图的密码里，也许根本就不藏在任何地方。也许那么多的捉弄人的线索只不过是留着难为好奇的游客的，让他们冲着《蒙娜丽莎》傻笑。
索菲拽了拽兰登问道："那有可能是打开圣杯埋藏地的钥匙吗？"
兰登笑道："我想，根本就没有这种可能。另外，据说圣杯被藏在英国的某个地方，而不是法国。"然后，他简短地给索菲介绍了一下圣杯的历史。
"可是，通过这把钥匙能找到圣杯是唯一合理的解释呀。"她坚持道，我们有一把非常保险的钥匙，而这把钥匙上面印着隐修会的标记。另外，这把钥匙还是隐修会成员亲自留给我们的，而刚才你也说了，隐修会就是圣杯的保护人。"兰登觉得她的观点非常符合逻辑，可是出于本能，他还是无法接受这个推论。有谣传说隐修会曾发誓把圣杯带回法国，并将其永远埋藏在那里。然而，这并没有确凿的历史证据。即便隐修会确实把圣杯带回了法国。"豪克斯街24 号"听起来也不像是圣杯的永久埋藏地呀。"索菲，我真很难想象这把钥匙会和圣杯有关。"
"就是因为人们都认为圣杯藏在英国吗？"
"不仅如此。圣杯的埋藏地是历史上被保守得最好的秘密之一。人们必须等待好几十年以证明自己值得信任，才会被选人这个隐修会的最高领导层，从而得知圣杯的埋藏地。这个秘密一直通过间接的方式传递。而且，虽然隐修会很庞大，然而在任何时候，只有大导师和其他的三个高层领导才知道这个秘密。你祖父是高层领导的可能性微乎其微。"祖父是高层领导，索菲想道。她加大了油门。脑海中的烙印，使她确信祖父就是隐修会的高层领导。
"即使你祖父是高层领导之一，他也决不会向隐修会之外的人透露这个秘密。他不可能把你引入核心领导层。""我早已进入核心层了。"索菲想道，她又回忆起了地下室里的那个仪式。她举棋不定，不知道应不应该把她在诺曼底经历的那个夜晚讲给兰登听。十年过去了，出于羞愧，她从未向任何人提起过她的所见所闻。一想到那个夜晚，她就浑身打颤。远处传来了警笛声，一阵强烈的倦意向她袭来。
"看！"兰登兴奋地叫了起来，他看见罗兰德。伽罗斯网球馆就在前方。
索菲把车朝网球馆开了过去。过了几个路口，他们找到了豪克斯街。并开始在街上找门牌。街道两边显得越来越繁华，商店也多了起来。
"我们要找24 号。"兰登自言自语道。突然，他意识到自己正下意识地在搜寻教堂的尖顶。别傻了！在这么繁华的地段怎么会有个被遗忘的教堂？
"就在那儿！"索菲指着前方，大声喊道。
兰登举目望去。
那究竟是什么呀？
那是一座现代化的建筑。那座堡垒的正上方安装着一个硕大的等边霓虹十字架。十字架的下面有几个大字：苏黎世储蓄银行兰登庆幸自己没跟索菲一样，把那里当作圣殿武士教堂。作为一个符号学家，很容易为事物强加上隐含意义。刚才，兰登完全忘记了这个祥和的等边十字架也正是中立国瑞土的国旗图案。
谜团已经解开了。
索菲和兰登正拿着一把瑞士银行保险箱的钥匙。

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Chapter 41
Outside Castel Gandolfo, an updraft of mountain air gushed over the top of the cliff and across thehigh bluff, sending a chill through Bishop Aringarosa as he stepped from the Fiat. I should haveworn more than this cassock, he thought, fighting the reflex to shiver. The last thing he needed toappear tonight was weak or fearful.
　　The castle was dark save the windows at the very top of the building, which glowed ominously.
　　The library, Aringarosa thought. They are awake and waiting. He ducked his head against the windand continued on without so much as a glance toward the observatory domes.
　　The priest who greeted him at the door looked sleepy. He was the same priest who had greetedAringarosa five months ago, albeit tonight he did so with much less hospitality. "We were worriedabout you, Bishop," the priest said, checking his watch and looking more perturbed than worried.
　　"My apologies. Airlines are so unreliable these days."The priest mumbled something inaudible and then said, "They are waiting upstairs. I will escortyou up."The library was a vast square room with dark wood from floor to ceiling. On all sides, toweringbookcases burgeoned with volumes. The floor was amber marble with black basalt trim, ahandsome reminder that this building had once been a palace.
　　"Welcome, Bishop," a man's voice said from across the room.
　　Aringarosa tried to see who had spoken, but the lights were ridiculously low—much lower thanthey had been on his first visit, when everything was ablaze. The night of stark awakening.
　　Tonight, these men sat in the shadows, as if they were somehow ashamed of what was about totranspire.
　　Aringarosa entered slowly, regally even. He could see the shapes of three men at a long table onthe far side of the room. The silhouette of the man in the middle was immediatelyrecognizable—the obese Secretariat Vaticana, overlord of all legal matters within Vatican City.
　　The other two were high-ranking Italian cardinals.
　　Aringarosa crossed the library toward them. "My humble apologies for the hour. We're on differenttime zones. You must be tired.""Not at all," the secretariat said, his hands folded on his enormous belly. "We are grateful you havecome so far. The least we can do is be awake to meet you. Can we offer you some coffee orrefreshments?""I'd prefer we don't pretend this is a social visit. I have another plane to catch. Shall we get tobusiness?""Of course," the secretariat said. "You have acted more quickly than we imagined.""Have I?""You still have a month.""You made your concerns known five months ago," Aringarosa said. "Why should I wait?""Indeed. We are very pleased with your expediency."Aringarosa's eyes traveled the length of the long table to a large black briefcase. "Is that what Irequested?""It is." The secretariat sounded uneasy. "Although, I must admit, we are concerned with therequest. It seems quite...""Dangerous," one of the cardinals finished. "Are you certain we cannot wire it to you somewhere?
　　The sum is exorbitant."Freedom is expensive. "I have no concerns for my own safety. God is with me."The men actually looked doubtful.
　　"The funds are exactly as I requested?"The secretariat nodded. "Large-denomination bearer bonds drawn on the Vatican Bank. Negotiableas cash anywhere in the world."Aringarosa walked to the end of the table and opened the briefcase. Inside were two thick stacks ofbonds, each embossed with the Vatican seal and the title PORTATORE, making the bondsredeemable to whoever was holding them.
　　The secretariat looked tense. "I must say, Bishop, all of us would feel less apprehensive if thesefunds were in cash."I could not lift that much cash, Aringarosa thought, closing the case. "Bonds are negotiable as cash.
　　You said so yourself."The cardinals exchanged uneasy looks, and finally one said, "Yes, but these bonds are traceabledirectly to the Vatican Bank."Aringarosa smiled inwardly. That was precisely the reason the Teacher suggested Aringarosa getthe money in Vatican Bank bonds. It served as insurance. We are all in this together now. "This isa perfectly legal transaction," Aringarosa defended. "Opus Dei is a personal prelature of VaticanCity, and His Holiness can disperse monies however he sees fit. No law has been broken here.""True, and yet..." The secretariat leaned forward and his chair creaked under the burden. "We haveno knowledge of what you intend to do with these funds, and if it is in any way illegal...""Considering what you are asking of me," Aringarosa countered, "what I do with this money is notyour concern."There was a long silence.
　　They know I'm right, Aringarosa thought. "Now, I imagine you have something for me to sign?"They all jumped, eagerly pushing the paper toward him, as if they wished he would simply leave.
　　Aringarosa eyed the sheet before him. It bore the papal seal. "This is identical to the copy you sentme?""Exactly."Aringarosa was surprised how little emotion he felt as he signed the document. The three menpresent, however, seemed to sigh in relief.
　　"Thank you, Bishop," the secretariat said. "Your service to the Church will never be forgotten."Aringarosa picked up the briefcase, sensing promise and authority in its weight. The four menlooked at one another for a moment as if there were something more to say, but apparently therewas not. Aringarosa turned and headed for the door.
　　"Bishop?" one of the cardinals called out as Aringarosa reached the threshold.
　　Aringarosa paused, turning. "Yes?""Where will you go from here?"Aringarosa sensed the query was more spiritual than geographical, and yet he had no intention ofdiscussing morality at this hour. "Paris," he said, and walked out the door.
岗道尔夫堡外，一股由下而上的山风刮过悬崖，穿过峭壁，直直地吹向刚从菲亚特轿车上下来的阿林加洛沙主教，让他感到阵阵寒意。我应该在这件法衣之外再加点衣服，他想道，竭力控制着不让自己打寒颤。他今晚决不能表现出软弱。
除了顶层的几扇窗户里透出几缕不祥的灯光外，整个城堡一片漆黑。那肯定是图书馆，阿林加洛沙想。他们还没睡，正等着我呢。他扫视了一下天文台的圆形屋顶，低下头，迎着风继续往前走。
在门口迎接他的教土睡眼惺忪。他就是五个月前迎接阿林加洛沙的那个教士，只是今晚他显得没有以前那么热情。"我们正为您担心呢，主教大人。"那个教士看了一下手表，说道。他那副表情与其说是担忧，倒不如说是忐忑不安。
"非常抱歉。最近的航班时刻表老是靠不住。"
教士小声地嘟囔了些什么，接着说道："他们在楼上等着您呢。我陪您上去。"
图书馆设在一个宽敞的方形房间里，地板和天花板上都由深色的木材装饰。墙壁的四周摆放着高大的书柜，上面摆满了书。琥珀色大理石地砖和地面边缘的黑色玄武岩，仿佛在提醒人们这里曾是皇宫。
"欢迎您，主教大人。"一个男人的声音从房间那头传来。
阿林加洛沙试图找到讲话的人，可是灯光出奇地暗，远比上次他来访时暗得多。那时灯光耀眼。彻底觉醒之夜。今晚，这些人坐在阴影里，像为将要发生的事情感到羞愧似的。
阿林加洛沙慢慢地踱进房门，看上去像个帝王。他隐约地看到房间那头的长桌子边有三个男人的身影。他一眼就从轮廓辨认出了中间的那个人，那是梵蒂冈的肥胖秘书，全权负责梵蒂冈城的所有法律事务。另外两个人是意大利的高级主教。
阿林加洛沙向他们走去。"我非常抱歉这时候来找你们。我们的时区不同，你们一定很累了吧。""没关系。"那位秘书说着，双手交叉着放在他肥大的肚子上。"我们非常感激您能这么远赶来。我们只不过是起床迎接您罢了，谈不上辛苦。您要不要喝杯咖啡，或是来些点心？"
"不必客套。我还要去赶另一班飞机。我们谈正事吧？"
"当然可以。"秘书说道。"没想到您行动这么快。"
"是吗？"
"您还有一个月的时间呢。"
"你们五个月之前就告诉了我你们关心的事情。"阿林加洛沙说："我为什么要等呢？"
"确实。您的快速的行动让我们非常高兴。"
阿林加洛沙望着长桌那头的黑色大公文包，问道："那就是我要的？"
"是的。""秘书不太自然地回答道。"虽然我不得不承认我们非常尊重您的要求，可是那也太……""危险。"一位红衣主教接下去说道。"您要知道我们不能寄给您。数目太庞大。"
"自由是昂贵的！我已将生死置之度外，上帝会保佑我。"
那帮人看上去有点儿怀疑。
"是我要的数目吗？"
秘书点了点头："梵蒂冈银行签发的大额持票人证券。跟现金一样，世界通用。"
阿林加洛沙走到桌子的尽头，打开公文包。里面有两叠厚厚的证券，每张上面都有梵蒂冈的印章和教堂的字样，那确保了任何持票人都可将其兑换成现金。
秘书看上去有些局促不安。"我不得不承认，主教大人，假如这笔款子是现金的话，我们都会稍稍安心一些。"
我可拿不动那么多现金，阿林加洛沙想道。他合上公文包，说道："证券跟现金一样可以在各地流通。这可是你们说的。"几个红衣主教交换了一下不安的眼神，最后说道："是的。可是通过这些证券可以追查到梵蒂冈银行。"阿林加洛沙暗笑，这正是那位导师让阿林加洛沙要梵蒂冈银行证券的原因。这是为保险起见，我们的命运被绑在一起了。"这说明我们的交易是完全合法的。"阿林加洛沙辩解道。
"天主事工会是梵蒂冈的最高统领，它有权处置这笔钱。况且，我们所做的一切都在法律许可的范围之内。""确实如此，可是……"秘书身体前倾，椅子被他压得吱吱作响。"我们并不知道你究竟会怎样处置这笔款子。假如有任何违法行为的话……""考虑到你们对我的要求。"阿林加洛沙反驳道："我怎样处理这笔款子与你们无关。"
房间里顿时鸦雀无声。
他们知道我是对的，阿林加洛沙想。"那么现在，有什么东西需要我签字吗？"
他们一跃而起，急切地把一份文件推到他面前，好像都盼望着他快点离开。
阿林加洛沙扫视了一下面前那张薄薄的纸，只见上面盖着教皇的大印。"这份文件跟你们给我的那张复印件一模一样吗？"
"完全一样。"
阿林加洛沙签上了名，他为自己能如此平静而颇感意外。那三个人看上去松了一口气。
"感谢您，主教。"秘书说。"您对教会的贡献将永远被人们铭记。"
阿林加洛沙拿起公文包，此刻他真切地感受到了承诺和权威的分量。四个人面面相觑，好像有什么话要说，但显然又说不出什么。
阿林加洛沙走到门口时，一位红衣主教喊住了他。
阿林加洛沙停下脚步，转身问道："什么事？"
"离开这里后，您打算去哪儿？"
阿林加洛沙知道他问的应该是灵魂的归属，不是地理方位，而他现在不想讨论精神道德的问题。"巴黎。"他说着，走出了房门。
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Chapter 42
The Depository Bank of Zurich was a twenty-four-hour Geldschrank bank offering the full modernarray of anonymous services in the tradition of the Swiss numbered account. Maintaining offices inZurich, Kuala Lumpur, New York, and Paris, the bank had expanded its services in recent years tooffer anonymous computer source code escrow services and faceless digitized backup.
　　The bread and butter of its operation was by far its oldest and simplest offering—the anonymeLager—blind drop services, otherwise known as anonymous safe-deposit boxes. Clients wishing tostore anything from stock certificates to valuable paintings could deposit their belongingsanonymously, through a series of high-tech veils of privacy, withdrawing items at any time, also intotal anonymity.
　　As Sophie pulled the taxi to a stop in front of their destination, Langdon gazed out at the building'suncompromising architecture and sensed the Depository Bank of Zurich was a firm with little senseof humor. The building was a windowless rectangle that seemed to be forged entirely of dull steel.
　　Resembling an enormous metal brick, the edifice sat back from the road with a fifteen-foot-tall,neon, equilateral cross glowing over its facade.
　　Switzerland's reputation for secrecy in banking had become one of the country's most lucrativeexports. Facilities like this had become controversial in the art community because they provided aperfect place for art thieves to hide stolen goods, for years if necessary, until the heat was off.
　　Because deposits were protected from police inspection by privacy laws and were attached tonumbered accounts rather than people's names, thieves could rest easily knowing their stolen goodswere safe and could never be traced to them.
　　Sophie stopped the taxi at an imposing gate that blocked the bank's driveway—a cement-linedramp that descended beneath the building. A video camera overhead was aimed directly at them,and Langdon had the feeling that this camera, unlike those at the Louvre, was authentic.
　　Sophie rolled down the window and surveyed the electronic podium on the driver's side. An LCDscreen provided directions in seven languages. Topping the list was English.
　　INSERT KEY.
　　Sophie took the gold laser-pocked key from her pocket and turned her attention back to thepodium. Below the screen was a triangular hole.
　　"Something tells me it will fit," Langdon said.
　　Sophie aligned the key's triangular shaft with the hole and inserted it, sliding it in until the entireshaft had disappeared. This key apparently required no turning. Instantly, the gate began to swingopen. Sophie took her foot off the brake and coasted down to a second gate and podium. Behindher, the first gate closed, trapping them like a ship in a lock.
　　Langdon disliked the constricted sensation. Let's hope this second gate works too.
　　This second podium bore familiar directions.
　　INSERT KEY.
　　When Sophie inserted the key, the second gate immediately opened. Moments later they werewinding down the ramp into the belly of the structure.
　　The private garage was small and dim, with spaces for about a dozen cars. At the far end, Langdonspied the building's main entrance. A red carpet stretched across the cement floor, welcomingvisitors to a huge door that appeared to be forged of solid metal.
　　Talk about mixed messages, Langdon thought. Welcome and keep out.
　　Sophie pulled the taxi into a parking space near the entrance and killed the engine. "You'd betterleave the gun here."With pleasure, Langdon thought, sliding the pistol under the seat.
　　Sophie and Langdon got out and walked up the red carpet toward the slab of steel. The door had nohandle, but on the wall beside it was another triangular keyhole. No directions were posted thistime.
　　"Keeps out the slow learners," Langdon said.
　　Sophie laughed, looking nervous. "Here we go." She stuck the key in the hole, and the door swunginward with a low hum. Exchanging glances, Sophie and Langdon entered. The door shut with athud behind them.
　　The foyer of the Depository Bank of Zurich employed as imposing a decor as any Langdon hadever seen. Where most banks were content with the usual polished marble and granite, this one hadopted for wall-to-wall metal and rivets.
　　Who's their decorator? Langdon wondered. Allied Steel?
　　Sophie looked equally intimidated as her eyes scanned the lobby.
　　The gray metal was everywhere—the floor, walls, counters, doors, even the lobby chairs appearedto be fashioned of molded iron. Nonetheless, the effect was impressive. The message was clear:
　　You are walking into a vault.
　　A large man behind the counter glanced up as they entered. He turned off the small television hewas watching and greeted them with a pleasant smile. Despite his enormous muscles and visiblesidearm, his diction chimed with the polished courtesy of a Swiss bellhop.
　　"Bonsoir," he said. "How may I help you?"The dual-language greeting was the newest hospitality trick of the European host. It presumednothing and opened the door for the guest to reply in whichever language was more comfortable.
　　Sophie replied with neither. She simply laid the gold key on the counter in front of the man.
　　The man glanced down and immediately stood straighter. "Of course. Your elevator is at the end ofthe hall. I will alert someone that you are on your way."Sophie nodded and took her key back. "Which floor?"The man gave her an odd look. "Your key instructs the elevator which floor."She smiled. "Ah, yes."The guard watched as the two newcomers made their way to the elevators, inserted their key,boarded the lift, and disappeared. As soon as the door had closed, he grabbed the phone. He wasnot calling to alert anyone of their arrival; there was no need for that. A vault greeter already hadbeen alerted automatically when the client's key was inserted outside in the entry gate.
　　Instead, the guard was calling the bank's night manager. As the line rang, the guard switched thetelevision back on and stared at it. The news story he had been watching was just ending. It didn'tmatter. He got another look at the two faces on the television.
　　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 manager cursed quietly. "Okay. I'll contact Monsieur Vernet immediately."The guard then hung up and placed a second call. This one to Interpol.
　　Langdon was surprised to feel the elevator dropping rather than climbing. He had no idea howmany floors they had descended beneath the Depository Bank of Zurich before the door finallyopened. 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 andpleasant, 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 as to follow me, s'il vous plait?"Without waiting for a response, he spun on his heel and strode briskly down a narrow metalcorridor.
　　Langdon walked with Sophie down a series of corridors, past several large rooms filled withblinking mainframe computers.
　　"Voici," their host said, arriving at a steel door and opening it for them. "Here you are."Langdon and Sophie stepped into another world. The small room before them looked like a lavishsitting room at a fine hotel. Gone were the metal and rivets, replaced with oriental carpets, dark oakfurniture, and cushioned chairs. On the broad desk in the middle of the room, two crystal glassessat beside an opened bottle of Perrier, its bubbles still fizzing. A pewter pot of coffee steamedbeside it.
　　Clockwork, Langdon thought. Leave it to the Swiss.
　　The man gave a perceptive smile. "I sense this is your first visit to us?"Sophie hesitated and then nodded.
　　"Understood. Keys are often passed on as inheritance, and our first-time users are invariablyuncertain of the protocol." He motioned to the table of drinks. "This room is yours as long as youcare to use it.""You say keys are sometimes inherited?" Sophie asked.
　　"Indeed. Your key is like a Swiss numbered account, which are often willed through generations.
　　On our gold accounts, the shortest safety-deposit box lease is fifty years. Paid in advance. So wesee plenty of family turnover."Langdon stared. "Did you say fifty years?""At a minimum," their host replied. "Of course, you can purchase much longer leases, but barringfurther arrangements, if there is no activity on an account for fifty years, the contents of that safe-deposit box are automatically destroyed. Shall I run through the process of accessing your box?"Sophie nodded. "Please."Their host swept an arm across the luxurious salon. "This is your private viewing room. Once Ileave the room, you may spend all the time you need in here to review and modify the contents ofyour safe-deposit box, which arrives... over here." He walked them to the far wall where a wideconveyor belt entered the room in a graceful curve, vaguely resembling a baggage claim carousel.
　　"You insert your key in that slot there...." The man pointed to a large electronic podium facing theconveyor belt. The podium had a familiar triangular hole. "Once the computer confirms themarkings on your key, you enter your account number, and your safe-deposit box will be retrievedrobotically from the vault below for your inspection. When you are finished with your box, youplace it back on the conveyor belt, insert your key again, and the process is reversed. Becauseeverything is automated, your privacy is guaranteed, even from the staff of this bank. If you needanything at all, simply press the call button on the table in the center of the room."Sophie was about to ask a question when a telephone rang. The man looked puzzled andembarrassed. "Excuse me, please." He walked over to the phone, which was sitting on the tablebeside the coffee and Perrier.
　　"Oui?" he answered.
　　His brow furrowed as he listened to the caller. "Oui... oui... d'accord." He hung up, and gave theman uneasy smile. "I'm sorry, I must leave you now. Make yourselves at home." He moved quicklytoward the door.
　　"Excuse me," Sophie called. "Could you clarify something before you go? You mentioned that weenter an account number?"The man paused at the door, looking pale. "But of course. Like most Swiss banks, our safe-depositboxes are attached to a number, not a name. You have a key and a personal account number knownonly to you. Your key is only half of your identification. Your personal account number is the otherhalf. Otherwise, if you lost your key, anyone could use it."Sophie hesitated. "And if my benefactor gave me no account number?"The banker's heart pounded. Then you obviously have no business here! He gave them a calmsmile. "I will ask someone to help you. He will be in shortly."Leaving, the banker closed the door behind him and twisted a heavy lock, sealing them inside.
　　Across town, Collet was standing in the Gare du Nord train terminal when his phone rang.
　　It was Fache. "Interpol got a tip," he said. "Forget the train. Langdon and Neveu just walked intothe Paris branch of the Depository Bank of Zurich. I want your men over there right away.""Any leads yet on what Saunière was trying to tell Agent Neveu and Robert Langdon?"Fache's tone was cold. "If you arrest them, Lieutenant Collet, then I can ask them personally."Collet took the hint. "Twenty-four Rue Haxo. Right away, Captain." He hung up and radioed hismen.
苏黎世储蓄银行24 小时营业，它以瑞士传统的账号开户方式经营全套的现代化不记名业务。苏黎世、科伦坡、纽约以及巴黎都设有其分支机构，它们运用计算机标识码来办理不记名业务，拥有先进的数字支持系统。
这个银行的业务操作方式其实是最古老也是最简单的--为客户提供匿名储藏箱。客户能够以匿名的方式存储任何物品--从证券到价值连城的名画--也可以在任何时候以匿名的方式提取这些物品，这一操作完全通过一整套保护隐私的高科技手段完成。
索菲将出租车停在银行门前，兰登从车窗里探出头来，望了望这座高大结实的建筑，觉得这真是个严肃的地方，让人活泼不得。大厦是长方形的，没有一扇窗，是个钢铁铸的庞然大物。这个"大铁块"耸立在马路边。前方还闪烁着十五英尺高的等边十字形霓虹灯。
瑞士的银行以其良好的保密措施闻名世界，吸引了全球各地的客户。这也在艺术界引起了极大的争议，因为它们也为艺术品偷盗者提供了隐藏赃物的最佳场所。他们可以把赃物放上几年，避避风头。由于储存的物品受隐私法保护不受警方的检查，又加上储存时只需开设数字账户，不需登记储户姓名，因此，那些偷盗者可以高枕无忧，既不用担心赃物的安全，也不必害怕被警方顺藤摸瓜地追查。
一扇大门挡住了银行的车道，门后那条水泥斜坡车道直通大楼的地下室。在大门上方，有一个摄像镜头。兰登估摸这个摄像镜头可不像卢浮宫里面的那些假货，是个真家伙。
索菲摇下车窗，看了看右手边的电子指示装置。液晶屏上有一条用七种不同语言显示的指令。最上面一行是英语：插入钥匙。
索菲从口袋里掏出那把用激光塑孔的金钥匙，又再次审视显示屏，只见屏幕下方有个三角形的钥匙孔。
"我感觉，它肯定能打开。"兰登说。
索菲将三棱柱形的钥匙身对准钥匙孔插了进去，然后慢慢往里推，把整个钥匙身都塞人了孔中。无需转动钥匙，门就自动打开了。索菲一松刹车，将车滑到第二个门和电子指示装置前。第一个门缓缓地合上了，就像一道闭合的船闸。
兰登不喜欢这种压抑的感觉，希望第二道门也能打开！第二条指令是同样的：插入钥匙。
索菲插入钥匙，第二道门也立即打开了。于是，他们就顺着斜坡转到了大楼下面。
私人停车库规模不大，灯光昏暗，停着十几辆车。车库的那头是大楼的中心人口。水泥地上的红地毯一直延伸到一扇厚厚的金属大门前。
兰登觉得这真是自相矛盾，欢迎来客又不轻易让人进入。
索菲把车开进人口旁的一个车位，熄灭了发动机。"你最好把熗放在这儿。"
"再好不过了。"兰登想着，把熗扔到车座下面。
索菲和兰登下了车，踏上红地毯朝着大铁门走去。铁门没有把手，门边的墙上也有一个三角形的钥匙孔。这次没有任何指令。
"没有悟性的人还进不去。"兰登说。
索菲笑了起来，显得有些紧张。"来吧。"她把钥匙插进那个孔里。门"嗡嗡"地向里转开。他俩交换了个眼神，走了进去。门在他们身后"砰"地一声关上了。
这家储蓄银行的装饰气势逼人。大部分的银行通常只选用光亮的大理石和花岗岩作为装饰材料，而这家银行的墙壁上却尽是金属块和铆钉。
这是谁装修的？兰登颇感惊奇。是联合钢铁公司吗？
地上、墙上、柜台上、门上，到处都是灰色的金属，就连走廊里的椅子也是铁制的。
这向人们表明：你走进了金库！
柜台后面的一个高大强壮的男人抬起头来看了他们一眼。他关掉小电视机，微笑着向他们打招呼。虽然他肌肉发达，随身携带的武器隐约可配，但这并没有影响他那彬彬有礼的形象。
"先生。"他用一半英文一半法文的句子问道："需要我为您做点什么吗？"
双语的问候是欧洲银行招呼客人的最新方式，让客人用感觉舒适的语言作答。
索菲什么也没有说，只是把那把金钥匙搁在柜台上。
那个男人低头看了一眼，马上站得更加笔直了。"明白了，您的电梯在大厅那头。您先去，我马上叫人。"索菲点了点头，拿回钥匙。"在哪一层？"
那人用古怪的眼神看了看索菲："您的钥匙不是告诉您了吗？"
她笑道："啊，是啊。"
警卫目送着两个人走向电梯，插进钥匙，走了进去。电梯门一关上，他就拿起电话。
他可不是打电话通知另外的人，因为根本就没有这个必要。因为客户的钥匙插进外面的大门时，通报装置就自动打开了。
实际上，这个电话是打给夜间值班经理的。等待接听时，警卫重新打开电视，眼睛紧紧盯着屏幕。他刚才看的新闻刚刚结束。但这没关系。他刚刚见到了屏幕上出现过的那两个人。
"喂。"电话里传来值班经理的声音。
"下面有情况。"
"发生了什么事？"值班经理赶紧问道。
"法国警方今晚正在追查两个逃犯。"
"那又怎样？"
"那两个人刚进了我们银行。"
值班经理轻轻地骂了几句。"好吧。我马上跟韦尔内先生联系。"
警卫挂断电话，又拨了一次。这次是给国际刑警组织。
兰登惊奇地发现电梯不是在上升而是在下降。电梯不停地下降，也不知道过了几层，终于停了下来。他才不管这是第几层呢！能从电梯里出来，他就非常高兴了。
接待人员早就笑盈盈地站在那里等着他们。他看上去上了年纪，穿着一件熨烫整齐的法兰绒西装，这使得他看上去很古怪，跟这个地方一点也不相配--一个高科技世界里的老式银行工作人员。
"先生。"他说道。"晚上好。请跟我来，好吗？"没等回答，他转过身，大步走向一个狭窄的金属通道。
兰登和索菲向下穿过几个通道，走过几个摆放着大型计算机的房间。
"就是这里。"接待员说着，为他们打开一扇铁门。"到了。"
兰登和索菲踏人了另一个世界。这个小房间看上去就像是高级宾馆的豪华起居室。这里没有钢铁和铆钉，有的是东方的地毯、黑色的橡木家具和配置了坐垫的椅子。房间中央的宽大桌子上，两个水晶玻璃杯边放着一瓶矿泉水，矿泉水还冒着气泡，桌上还有一壶冒着热气的咖啡。
兰登不禁感叹道："瑞士人真是按部就班的典型。"
那人会心地一笑："你们是第一次来吧？"
索菲犹豫了一下，点了点头。
"可以理解。钥匙经常被作为遗产传给下一代。第一次到我们这里来的客户大多不明白协议。"他指了指放着饮料的桌子说。"只要你们想用，这个房间就一直是你们的。"
"钥匙有时是世代相传的？"索菲问道。
"没错。客户的钥匙就像瑞士银行的数字账号，经常会被作为遗产一代一代地传下去。
在我们的账户上，最短的保险箱租期是五十年，要求提前付款，所以我们会看到许多家族的后代。"兰登睁大双眼。"你刚才是说五十年吗？"
"至少。"接待员答道。"当然，你也可以租用更长的时间。但除非有进一步的安排，否则，如果一个账户五十年未用，我们就会自动地把保险箱里的东西销毁。需要我启动程序来拿出您的箱子吗？"
索菲点了点头。"好的。"
接待员指着这个豪华的房间，说道："这是供你们查看保险箱的密室。我一离开这里，你们就可以在这里查看或更换保险箱里的东西，想呆多长时间都行。而箱子就在这儿。"他把他们带到对面的墙边，那里有一个宽大的传送带，看上去有点像行李提取处。"请把钥匙插进这个小孔。"那人指着传送带对面一个很大的电子指示装置说。装置上有个熟悉的三角形的钥匙孔。"计算机确认是这把钥匙后，请输入你的账号。然后，你的保险箱就会由机器自动地从下面的金库里传送过来，你就可以查看了。查看完箱子后，请把它放在传送带上，再把钥匙插到这个孔里，程序就会自动重复一遍。由于整个过程是自动的，因此你们的隐私完全可以得到保证，即使是本银行的工作人员也完全不知情。如果你们有什么需要，就请按一下桌子中央的那个呼叫键。"索菲正想提问，突然电话铃声响了起来。接待员显得有点迷惑。尴尬地说道："请原谅。"他走向咖啡壶和矿泉水瓶边上的电话。
"喂？"他拿起电话。
听着话筒那头传来的声音，他皱起了眉头。"是……是……"挂上电话，他局促不安地对兰登和索菲笑了笑，说道："对不起，我现在得出去一下。请随意。"然后，快步走了出去。
"对不起。"索菲喊道。"走之前能不能给我们解释一下？您刚才是不是提到我们要输入账号数字？"
那人在门口停了下来，脸色煞白。"当然。跟其他瑞士银行一样。我们的储蓄保险箱业务开设数字账号，而不是姓名账号。你应该有一把钥匙和只有自己知道的账号。否则，假如你丢了钥匙，谁捡去了都可以用。"索菲犹豫地问道："要是我的赠送人没告诉我账号怎么办？"
接待员的心"咚咚"直跳。那显然你与保险箱无关！他故作镇静地对他们笑了一下，说道："那我去找个人来帮你。他马上就来。"
接待员出门转身将门关上，然后转动着一个粗大的钥匙，把他们严严实实地锁在了房间里。
在城市的那一头，科莱正在火车北站。突然，他的电话响了起来。
是法希打来的。"国际刑警找到了线索。"他在电话里说道。"别管火车了。兰登和奈芙刚到苏黎世储蓄银行的巴黎支行。我要你的人马上去那里。""是不是索尼埃想告诉奈芙和罗伯特。兰登些什么呢？"
法希冷冷地答道。"科莱，如果你抓住他们，我就能亲自审问他们了！"
科莱明白了他的意思："豪克斯街24 号。马上就到，局长。"
他挂上电话，用对讲机把手下人召集起来。
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Chapter 43
André Vernet—president of the Paris branch of the Depository Bank of Zurich—lived in a lavishflat above the bank. Despite his plush accommodations, he had always dreamed of owning ariverside 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, Vernet told himself, I will fill my cellar with rare Bordeaux, adorn my salon with aFragonard and perhaps a Boucher, and spend my days hunting for antique furniture and rarebooks in the Quartier Latin.
　　Tonight, Vernet had been awake only six and a half minutes. Even so, as he hurried through thebank's underground corridor, he looked as if his personal tailor and hairdresser had polished him toa fine sheen. Impeccably dressed in a silk suit, Vernet sprayed some breath spray in his mouth andtightened his tie as he walked. No stranger to being awoken to attend to his international clientsarriving from different time zones, Vernet modeled his sleep habits after the Maasai warriors—theAfrican tribe famous for their ability to rise from the deepest sleep to a state of total battlereadiness in a matter of seconds.
　　Battle ready, Vernet thought, fearing the comparison might be uncharacteristically apt tonight. Thearrival of a gold key client always required an extra flurry of attention, but the arrival of a gold keyclient who was wanted by the Judicial Police would be an extremely delicate matter. The bank hadenough battles with law enforcement over the privacy rights of their clients without proof thatsome of them were criminals.
　　Five minutes, Vernet told himself. I need these people out of my bank before the police arrive.
　　If he moved quickly, this impending disaster could be deftly sidestepped. Vernet could tell thepolice that the fugitives in question had indeed walked into his bank as reported, but because theywere not clients and had no account number, they were turned away. He wished the damnedwatchman had not called Interpol. Discretion was apparently not part of the vocabulary of a 15-euro-per-hour watchman.
　　Stopping at the doorway, he took a deep breath and loosened his muscles. Then, forcing a balmysmile, he unlocked the door and swirled into the room like a warm breeze.
　　"Good evening," he said, his eyes finding his clients. "I am André Vernet. How can I be of serv—"The rest of the sentence lodged somewhere beneath his Adam's apple. The woman before him wasas unexpected a visitor as Vernet had ever had.
　　"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" Sophie asked. She did not recognize the banker, but he for amoment looked as if he'd seen a ghost.
　　"No...," the bank president fumbled. "I don't... believe so. Our services are anonymous." Heexhaled and forced a calm smile. "My assistant tells me you have a gold key but no accountnumber? Might I ask how you came by this key?""My grandfather gave it to me," Sophie replied, watching the man closely. His uneasiness seemedmore evident now.
　　"Really? Your grandfather gave you the key but failed to give you the account number?""I don't think he had time," Sophie said. "He was murdered tonight."Her words sent the man staggering backward. "Jacques Saunière is dead?" he demanded, his eyesfilling with horror. "But... how?!"Now it was Sophie who reeled, numb with shock. "You knew my grandfather?"Banker André Vernet looked equally astounded, steadying himself by leaning on an end table.
　　"Jacques and I were dear friends. When did this happen?""Earlier this evening. Inside the Louvre."Vernet walked to a deep leather chair and sank into it. "I need to ask you both a very importantquestion." He glanced up at Langdon and then back to Sophie. "Did either of you have anything todo with his death?""No!" Sophie declared. "Absolutely not."Vernet's face was grim, and he paused, pondering. "Your pictures are being circulated by Interpol.
　　This is how I recognized you. You're wanted for a murder."Sophie slumped. Fache ran an Interpol broadcast already? It seemed the captain was moremotivated than Sophie had anticipated. She quickly told Vernet who Langdon was and what hadhappened inside the Louvre tonight.
　　Vernet looked amazed. "And as your grandfather was dying, he left you a message telling you tofind Mr. Langdon?""Yes. And this key." Sophie laid the gold key on the coffee table in front of Vernet, placing thePriory seal face down.
　　Vernet glanced at the key but made no move to touch it. "He left you only this key? Nothing else?
　　No slip of paper?"Sophie knew she had been in a hurry inside the Louvre, but she was certain she had seen nothingelse behind Madonna of the Rocks. "No. Just the key."Vernet gave a helpless sigh. "I'm afraid every key is electronically paired with a ten-digit accountnumber that functions as a password. Without that number, your key is worthless."Ten digits. Sophie reluctantly calculated the cryptographic odds. Over ten billion possible choices.
　　Even if she could bring in DCPJ's most powerful parallel processing computers, she still wouldneed weeks to break the code. "Certainly, monsieur, considering the circumstances, you can helpus.""I'm sorry. I truly can do nothing. Clients select their own account numbers via a secure terminal,meaning account numbers are known only to the client and computer. This is one way we ensureanonymity. And the safety of our employees."Sophie understood. Convenience stores did the same thing. EMPLOYEES DO NOT HAVE KEYSTO THE SAFE. This bank obviously did not want to risk someone stealing a key and then holdingan employee hostage for the account number.
　　Sophie sat down beside Langdon, glanced down at the key and then up at Vernet. "Do you haveany idea what my grandfather is storing in your bank?""None whatsoever. That is the definition of a Geldschrank bank.""Monsieur Vernet," she pressed, "our time tonight is short. I am going to be very direct if I may."She reached out to the gold key and flipped it over, watching the man's eyes as she revealed thePriory of Sion seal. "Does the symbol on this key mean anything to you?"Vernet glanced down at the fleur-de-lis seal and made no reaction. "No, but many of our clientsemboss corporate logos or initials onto their keys."Sophie sighed, still watching him carefully. "This seal is the symbol of a secret society known asthe Priory of Sion."Vernet again showed no reaction. "I know nothing of this. Your grandfather was a friend, but wespoke mostly of business." The man adjusted his tie, looking nervous now.
　　"Monsieur Vernet," Sophie pressed, her tone firm. "My grandfather called me tonight and told mehe and I were in grave danger. He said he had to give me something. He gave me a key to yourbank. Now he is dead. Anything you can tell us would be helpful."Vernet broke a sweat. "We need to get out of the building. I'm afraid the police will arrive shortly.
　　My watchman felt obliged to call Interpol."Sophie had feared as much. She took one last shot. "My grandfather said he needed to tell me thetruth about my family. Does that mean anything to you?""Mademoiselle, your family died in a car accident when you were young. I'm sorry. I know yourgrandfather loved you very much. He mentioned to me several times how much it pained him thatyou two had fallen out of touch."Sophie was uncertain how to respond.
　　Langdon asked, "Do the contents of this account have anything to do with the Sangreal?"Vernet gave him an odd look. "I have no idea what that is." Just then, Vernet's cell phone rang, andhe snatched it off his belt. "Oui?" He listened a moment, his expression one of surprise andgrowing concern. "La police? Si rapidement?" He cursed, gave some quick directions in French,and said he would be up to the lobby in a minute.
　　Hanging up the phone, he turned back to Sophie. "The police have responded far more quickly thanusual. They are arriving as we speak."Sophie had no intention of leaving empty-handed. "Tell them we came and went already. If theywant to search the bank, demand a search warrant. That will take them time.""Listen," Vernet said, "Jacques was a friend, and my bank does not need this kind of press, so forthose two reasons, I have no intention of allowing this arrest to be made on my premises. Give mea minute and I will see what I can do to help you leave the bank undetected. Beyond that, I cannotget involved." He stood up and hurried for the door. "Stay here. I'll make arrangements and be rightback.""But the safe-deposit box," Sophie declared. "We can't just leave.""There's nothing I can do," Vernet said, hurrying out the door. "I'm sorry."Sophie stared after him a moment, wondering if maybe the account number was buried in one ofthe countless letters and packages her grandfather had sent her over the years and which she hadleft unopened.
　　Langdon stood suddenly, and Sophie sensed an unexpected glimmer of contentment in his eyes.
　　"Robert? You're smiling.""Your grandfather was a genius.""I'm sorry?""Ten digits?"Sophie had no idea what he was talking about.
　　"The account number," he said, a familiar lopsided grin now craning his face. "I'm pretty sure heleft it for us after all.""Where?"Langdon produced the printout of the crime scene photo and spread it out on the coffee table.
　　Sophie needed only to read the first line to know Langdon was correct.
　　13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5O, Draconian devil!
　　Oh, lame saint!
　　P.S. Find Robert Langdon
苏黎世储蓄银行巴黎支行行长安德烈。韦尔内住在银行顶层的一间豪华公寓里。虽然他的房子富丽堂皇，但他却一直梦想着能在圣路易斯河畔拥有一所住宅。在那里他可以跟人们促膝交谈，而不用每天都在这里面对那些浑身充满了铜臭气的富人。
等我退了休，韦尔内心想，我就把酒窖里塞满上好的波尔多葡萄酒，用福拉哥纳尔或布歇的名画装饰我的客厅，然后整日四处搜罗古董家具和拉丁区的宝贵书籍。
韦尔内在醒来六分钟后就急急忙忙地穿过银行的地下通道。他看上去依然神采奕奕，好像他的私人裁缝和发型师早已把他修饰得尽善尽美。他穿着一件得体的丝质西装，边走边向嘴里喷了些口气清新剂，然后紧了紧领带。由于经常在夜间被突然叫醒去接待那些来自其他时区的外国客户，韦尔内已经养成了马萨士兵的睡眠习惯--那些非洲部落以能在醒来后几秒钟就能进入战斗状态而闻名。
"战斗开始了。"韦尔内想道，但又觉得用这个比喻来形容今晚的事不一定贴切。虽说每位持金钥匙的客户的光临都需要一些额外的关注，但一位被通缉的客户的到来确实是一件不同寻常的事。在没有证据证明客户是罪犯的情况下，银行已与执法者就客户的隐私权多次发生争执。
"给我五分钟。"韦尔内心想。"我要这些人在警察来之前离开银行。"
如果他行动够快的话，他的银行就可以巧妙地躲过眼前的这场灾难。韦尔内可以告诉警察这两个被迫查的逃犯确实进了银行，可是因为他们并不是银行的客户，而且又没有账号，于是被赶了出去。他真希望那个该死的警卫没有打电话给国际刑警组织。一个每小时只拿15 欧元的警卫显然不会知道还有"判断力"这个词。
他在门口停了停，深吸了一口气，放松了一下全身的肌肉。然后，他满脸堆笑地打开门，像一阵暖意融融的清风那样飘然而人。
"晚上好。"他说道，眼睛搜寻着他的客户。"我是安德烈。韦尔内，我能帮您……"下半截话被卡在了喉头。他面前的这个女人是他有生以来最意想不到的来访者。
"对不起，我们以前见过面吗？"索菲问道。她根本就不认识这个人，可他刚才一刹那的表情就像看到了鬼似的。
"没有……"行长结结巴巴地说道。"我想……没有。我们的业务都是匿名的。"他长出了一口气，挤出镇定的笑容，说道："我的助理告诉我说您有一把金钥匙却没有账号，是吗？
那么，我能知道您是怎样得到这把钥匙的吗？"
"是祖父给我的。"索菲答道，眼睛紧紧地盯着他。
他显得更加不安了。"真的吗？您祖父给了您这把钥匙却没告诉您账号？"
"我想他没来得及。"索菲说道。"他今晚被人谋杀了。"
听到这话，那人倒退了几步。"雅克。索尼埃死了？"他大声问道，眼里充满了恐惧。"但是……这是怎么回事？"
索菲大吃一惊，也倒退几步，浑身发抖。"你认识我祖父？"
安德烈。韦尔内也大惊失色。他靠着桌角站稳，说道："雅克和我是好朋友。他什么时候死的？"
"今晚早些时候。在卢浮宫。"
韦尔内走到一个宽大的皮椅旁，一屁股坐了进去。他看了看兰登，又看了看索菲，然后问道："我要问你们一个非常重要的问题。你们中任何一个人跟他的死有关吗？"
"没有！"索菲叫道。"绝对没有。"
韦尔内脸色凝重，停了一下，若有所思地说道："你们的照片已被国际刑警组织贴了出来。这就是刚才我认出你的原因。你们正因涉嫌谋杀而被通缉。"索菲的心一沉。法希已经通知国际刑警组织了？他似乎比索菲预料的更加卖力。她简单地向韦尔内说明了兰登的身份，以及今晚在卢浮宫发生的事。
韦尔内感到非常惊异。"你祖父快死的时候留下了暗号让你去找兰登先生？"
"是的。还有这把钥匙。"索菲把金钥匙放到韦尔内面前的咖啡桌上，故意让有隐修会标志的那面朝下。
韦尔内看了一眼那把钥匙，却没有去动它。"他只给你留下了这把钥匙？没有别的？没有小纸条什么的？"
索菲知道她在卢浮宫的时候非常匆忙，但她可以肯定在《岩间圣母》后面除了这把钥匙没有别的东西。
"没有。只有这把钥匙。"
韦尔内无奈地叹了一口气："很遗憾。每把钥匙都跟一组作为密码的十位数账号相匹配。没有账号，你的钥匙毫无价值。"十位数！索菲无奈地计算了一下破解那个密码的可能性。有100 多亿种可能。即使她把警署里处理能力最强的并联计算机带来，也要用好几个礼拜才能破解这个密码。"当然了，先生，鉴于当前的局面，你会帮我们的。""对不起。我真的帮不上忙。客户通过安全可靠的计算机来选择他们的账号，这意味着只有计算机和客户自己知道账号。这是我们保证客户得以匿名处理业务的一个方法。另外，这样做也是为了我们员工的安全着想。"索菲完全明白。便利店也是这样做的。员工不能拿保险柜的钥匙！这家银行显然不会让人钻空子，让偷走钥匙的人扣押一个员工作为人质来索要账号。
索菲坐在兰登身边，低头看了看钥匙，又抬头看了看韦尔内。"您猜想我祖父会在您的银行里放些什么东西呢？"
"一无所知。这就是所谓的匿名银行。"
"韦尔内先生。"她坚持道。"我们今晚在这里的时间有限。那我有话直说了。"她拿起那把金钥匙，翻了过来，露出隐修会的标志。她盯着韦尔内的眼睛，问道："这个钥匙上的标记对你来说意味着什么吗？"
韦尔内低头看了看那个法国百合标记，没作任何反应。"没什么。不过我们许多客户都会把他们社团的徽标或首字母的缩略词刻在他们的钥匙上。"索菲叹了一口气，可是她依然紧紧地盯着韦尔内。"这个印记是一个叫做隐修会的秘密组织的标志。"韦尔内仍没作任何反应。"我对此一无所知。你祖父跟我确实是好期友，但我们大部分时间都在讨论生意上的事。"他整了整领带，流露出一丝不安。
"韦尔内先生。"索菲坚持道。"我祖父今晚给我打电话，说他和我的处境都极度危险。他说必须得给我点什么东西。结果他给了我你们银行的一把钥匙。现在他死了。您提供的任何线索都会很有帮助。"韦尔内冒出了冷汗，说道："我们得离开这座大楼。恐怕警察马上就会来。警卫忠于职守，向国际刑警组织报了警。"索菲确实害怕，可她还是做了最后一次努力。"祖父说他要告诉我家庭的真相。您知道些什么吗？"
"小姐，你的家人在你小时候出车祸死了。我很抱歉。我知道你祖父非常爱你。他多次向我提到你们关系破裂对他来说是件多么痛苦的事。"索菲不知如何作答。
兰登问道："用这个账号保存的东西跟圣杯有关吗？"
韦尔内古怪地看了他一眼。"我不知道那是什么。"这时，韦尔内的手机响了起来。他把手机从腰带上拿下来。"喂？"他的神情有些诧异，继而又变得很关注。"警察？这么快？"他骂了几句，快速地用法语下了几个命令，然后告诉对方他马上就会去大厅。
他挂上电话，转过身对索菲说："警察比平常行动得快。我们在这里讲话的时候，他们就赶过来了。"索菲不想两手空空地离开这里。"告诉他们我们来过，并且已经走了。如果他们想要搜查银行，就向他们要搜查令。他们得花一些时间才能拿到搜查令。""听着。"韦尔内说道。"雅克是我的朋友，而且我的银行也不允许警察那样做。我不会允许他们在我的大楼里逮捕你们。给我一分钟，我会想办法让你们悄悄地离开这里。除此之外，恕我无能为力。"他站起来，快步走向门口。"呆在这里。我去作些安排，马上回来。""但是，保险箱怎么办？"索菲叫道。"我们不能就这么走。"
"我一点办法都没有，抱歉。"韦尔内边说边急匆匆地走出门口。
索菲看着他的背影从门口消失，心想账号也许就在祖父这些年来寄给她的那些数不清的信件和包裹里，而她却一件也没打开过！
兰登突然站了起来。索菲感到他眼里闪烁出莫名其妙的快乐光芒。
"罗伯特！你笑什么？"
"你祖父真是个天才。"
"对不起，你说什么？"
"十位数？"
索菲根本就不知道他在说什么。
他的嘴咧向一边，露出了熟悉的笑容。"账号！我敢肯定他把账号留给了我们。"
"在哪儿？"
兰登拿出那张犯罪现场的电脑打印照扩，铺在咖啡桌上。索菲只看了一眼，就知道兰登说得没错。
13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5啊，严酷的魔王！
噢，瘸腿的圣徒！
P.S.：找到罗伯特。兰登。
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Chapter 44
"Ten digits," Sophie said, her cryptologic senses tingling as she studied the printout.
　　13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5Grand-père wrote his account number on the Louvre floor!
　　When Sophie had first seen the scrambled Fibonacci sequence on the parquet, she had assumed itssole purpose was to encourage DCPJ to call in their cryptographers and get Sophie involved. Later,she realized the numbers were also a clue as to how to decipher the other lines—a sequence out oforder... a numeric anagram. Now, utterly amazed, she saw the numbers had a more importantmeaning still. They were almost certainly the final key to opening her grandfather's mysterious safe-deposit box.
　　"He was the master of double-entendres," Sophie said, turning to Langdon. "He loved anythingwith multiple layers of meaning. Codes within codes."Langdon was already moving toward the electronic podium near the conveyor belt. Sophie grabbedthe computer printout and followed.
　　The podium had a keypad similar to that of a bank ATM terminal. The screen displayed the bank'scruciform logo. Beside the keypad was a triangular hole. Sophie wasted no time inserting the shaftof her key into the hole.
　　The screen refreshed instantly.
　　ACCOUNT NUMBER: _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The cursor blinked. Waiting.
　　Ten digits. Sophie read the numbers off the printout, and Langdon typed them in.
　　ACCOUNT NUMBER: 1332211185When he had typed the last digit, the screen refreshed again. A message in several languagesappeared. English was on top.
　　CAUTION:
　　Before you strike the enter key, please check the accuracy of youraccount number.
　　For your own security, if the computer does not recognize youraccount number, this system will automatically shut down.
　　"Fonction terminer," Sophie said, frowning. "Looks like we only get one try." Standard ATMmachines allowed users three attempts to type a PIN before confiscating their bank card. This wasobviously no ordinary cash machine.
　　"The number looks right," Langdon confirmed, carefully checking what they had typed andcomparing it to the printout. He motioned to the ENTER key. "Fire away."Sophie extended her index finger toward the keypad, but hesitated, an odd thought now hitting her.
　　"Go ahead," Langdon urged. "Vernet will be back soon.""No." She pulled her hand away. "This isn't the right account number.""Of course it is! Ten digits. What else would it be?""It's too random."Too random? Langdon could not have disagreed more. Every bank advised its customers to choosePINs at random so nobody could guess them. Certainly clients here would be advised to choosetheir account numbers at random.
　　Sophie deleted everything she had just typed in and looked up at Langdon, her gaze self-assured.
　　"It's far too coincidental that this supposedly random account number could be rearranged to formthe Fibonacci sequence."Langdon realized she had a point. Earlier, Sophie had rearranged this account number into theFibonacci sequence. What were the odds of being able to do that?
　　Sophie was at the keypad again, entering a different number, as if from memory. "Moreover, withmy grandfather's love of symbolism and codes, it seems to follow that he would have chosen anaccount number that had meaning to him, something he could easily remember." She finishedtyping the entry and gave a sly smile. "Something that appeared random... but was not." Langdonlooked at the screen.
　　ACCOUNT NUMBER: 1123581321It took him an instant, but when Langdon spotted it, he knew she was right.
　　The Fibonacci sequence.
　　1-1-2-3-5-8-13-21When the Fibonacci sequence was melded into a single ten-digit number, it became virtuallyunrecognizable. Easy to remember, and yet seemingly random. A brilliant ten-digit code thatSaunière would never forget. Furthermore, it perfectly explained why the scrambled numbers onthe Louvre floor could be rearranged to form the famous progression.
　　Sophie reached down and pressed the ENTER key.
　　Nothing happened.
　　At least nothing they could detect.
　　At that moment, beneath them, in the bank's cavernous subterranean vault, a robotic claw sprang tolife. Sliding on a double-axis transport system attached to the ceiling, the claw headed off in searchof the proper coordinates. On the cement floor below, hundreds of identical plastic crates layaligned on an enormous grid... like rows of small coffins in an underground crypt.
　　Whirring to a stop over the correct spot on the floor, the claw dropped down, an electric eyeconfirming the bar code on the box. Then, with computer precision, the claw grasped the heavyhandle and hoisted the crate vertically. New gears engaged, and the claw transported the box to thefar side of the vault, coming to a stop over a stationary conveyor belt.
　　Gently now, the retrieval arm set down the crate and retracted.
　　Once the arm was clear, the conveyor belt whirred to life....
　　Upstairs, Sophie and Langdon exhaled in relief to see the conveyor belt move. Standing beside thebelt, they felt like weary travelers at baggage claim awaiting a mysterious piece of luggage whosecontents were unknown.
　　The conveyor belt entered the room on their right through a narrow slit beneath a retractable door.
　　The metal door slid up, and a huge plastic box appeared, emerging from the depths on the inclinedconveyor belt. The box was black, heavy molded plastic, and far larger than she imagined. Itlooked like an air-freight pet transport crate without any airholes.
　　The box coasted to a stop directly in front of them.
　　Langdon and Sophie stood there, silent, staring at the mysterious container.
　　Like everything else about this bank, this crate was industrial—metal clasps, a bar code sticker ontop, and molded heavy-duty handle. Sophie thought it looked like a giant toolbox.
　　Wasting no time, Sophie unhooked the two buckles facing her. Then she glanced over at Langdon.
　　Together, they raised the heavy lid and let it fall back.
　　Stepping forward, they peered down into the crate.
　　At first glance, Sophie thought the crate was empty. Then she saw something. Sitting at the bottomof the crate. A lone item.
　　The polished wooden box was about the size of a shoebox and had ornate hinges. The wood was alustrous deep purple with a strong grain. Rosewood, Sophie realized. Her grandfather's favorite.
　　The lid bore a beautiful inlaid design of a rose. She and Langdon exchanged puzzled looks. Sophieleaned in and grabbed the box, lifting it out.
　　My God, it's heavy!
　　She carried it gingerly to a large receiving table and set it down. Langdon stood beside her, both ofthem staring at the small treasure chest her grandfather apparently had sent them to retrieve.
　　Langdon stared in wonderment at the lid's hand-carved inlay—a five-petal rose. He had seen thistype of rose many times. "The five-petal rose," he whispered, "is a Priory symbol for the HolyGrail."Sophie turned and looked at him. Langdon could see what she was thinking, and he was thinking ittoo. The dimensions of the box, the apparent weight of its contents, and a Priory symbol for theGrail all seemed to imply one unfathomable conclusion. The Cup of Christ is in this wooden box.
　　Langdon again told himself it was impossible.
　　"It's a perfect size," Sophie whispered, "to hold... a chalice."It can't be a chalice.
　　Sophie pulled the box toward her across the table, preparing to open it. As she moved it, though,something unexpected happened. The box let out an odd gurgling sound.
　　Langdon did a double take. There's liquid inside?
　　Sophie looked equally confused. "Did you just hear...?"Langdon nodded, lost. "Liquid."Reaching forward, Sophie slowly unhooked the clasp and raised the lid.
　　The object inside was unlike anything Langdon had ever seen. One thing was immediately clear toboth of them, however. This was definitely not the Cup of Christ.
"确实是十位数。"索菲说道。当她仔细地查看那张照片时，对密码学的感觉被唤醒了。
13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5祖父把账号写在了卢浮宫的地板上！
当索菲第一次在卢浮宫的木地板上看到这个凌乱的斐波那契数列时，以为这串数字的唯一目的只是让警署请密码员来参与侦破，从而让索菲有机会参与其中。后来，她认识到这些数字还是破解另外几行词句的线索--一个打破顺序的序列……一个数字之谜。现在，更加使她惊异的是，她发现这些数字还有一个更重要的含意。几乎可以肯定，这些数字肯定是打开祖父的神秘保险箱的关键。
"他是使用双关语的大师。"索菲转过身对兰登说道。"他喜欢有多层意思的东西。喜欢在密码里套密码。"此时，兰登已走近了传送带边上的计算机装置。索菲抓起那张电脑打印的照片，跟了上去。
那个装置的键盘和银行自动取款机的键盘相似。显示屏上显示着十字形标志。键盘旁边有一个三角形的孔。索菲毫不犹豫地把钥匙插进那个孔里。
屏幕马上刷新了。
账号：----------光标闪烁等待着。
十位数。索菲念着照片上的数字，兰登把它们输了进去。
账号：1332211185最后一个数字输入完毕后，屏幕又刷新了，出现了用几种不同的语言写成的信息。最上面的一段是英语。
注意：在按确认键之前，请核对您输入的账号是否准确。
如果计算机无法识别您的账号，为了安全，系统将自动关闭。
"终审判决。"索菲皱着眉头说道。"看来我们只有一次机会。"普通的自动提款机一般都会允许用户输入三次密码，然后才会没收他们的银行卡。不过，这一台显然不是普通的取款机。
兰登对照着照片上的数字仔细地核对输入，确认无误后，他说道："数字没错。"
他指了指确认键。"按吧。"
索菲把食指伸向键盘，但一种奇怪的感觉突然袭来，她犹豫了。
"按呀。"兰登催促道。"韦尔内马上就回来了。"
"不对。"她把手指拿开。"这个账号不正确。"
"肯定对！十位数。还会是什么？"
"这个账号太没有规律了。"
太没有规律？兰登不同意这个说法。每家银行都会建议他们的用户随机选择密码，这样就不会被人猜到。这家银行当然也会建议用户随机选择密码。
索菲删除了刚刚输进去的所有数字，抬头看着兰登，目光中流露出自信。"这个理应很随意的账号竟能重新排列成斐波那契数列，这也太偶然了吧？"
兰登明白她已有了主意。来这里之前，索菲就曾把这组数字排成了斐波那契数列。随便一组数字能排列成斐波那契数列的可能性有大呢？
索菲又敲起了键盘，边回忆边输入了一组不同的数字。"而且，就祖父对符号学和密码的偏爱来说，他应该会选择一组对他来说有意义的、容易记住的数字。"把数字全部输进去之后，她狡猾地笑了一下。"看上去很随意，但实际不然。"
兰登看了看屏幕。
账号：1123581321兰登一时没看懂。可是当他回过神，就明白索菲所言极是。
斐波那契数列：1-1-2-3-5-8-13-2l当斐波那契数列混合成一组十项数字的组合时，根本就无法辨认。容易记住，但从表面看却很随意！这是一个永远都不会被忘记的极为巧妙的十位数密码。而且，这也充分说明了为什么卢浮宫地板上那组凌乱的数字可以重新排列成这著名的数列。
索菲伸出手按下确认键。
毫无动静。
至少他们没有觉察出有什么动静。
就在那一刻，在他们脚下的那个巨大地下金库里，一个机械手被激活了。这个机械手在双轴传送装置上滑动着，寻找与输入账号相匹配的保险箱。金库里，上千个一模一样的塑料箱子在巨大的铁架上排成一行，看上去就像教堂地下室里的一排排灵柩。
机械手迅速地移动到正确方位，然后垂了下来，用电子眼确认了一下上面的条形码。
接着，机械手非常准确地抓起箱子沉重的把手，把箱子直直地提了起来。传送装置上的齿轮转动着，机械手把箱子运到金库的另一头，然后在一个静止的传送带上方停了下来。
机械手轻轻地放下箱子，收了回去。
紧接着，传送带迅速地转动了起来……
兰登和索菲看到传送带转了起来，长出了一口气。他们站在传送带旁，就像在行李提取处等待神秘行李的疲惫旅客。
传送带从一个伸缩门下面的窄缝里穿进来，延伸到他们右侧。铁门滑了开来，一个很大的塑料箱子从倾斜的传送带上运了过来。那个箱子是个笨重的黑色塑料箱，比索菲想象的要大得多，就像一个没有气孔的宠物空运箱。
箱子沿斜坡滑到他们面前。
兰登和索菲静静地站在那里注视着这个神秘的箱子。
跟这家银行的其他东西一样，这个箱子的所有零部件--从铁扣到顶端的不干胶条形码以及结实的把手一一-都是由机械制造的。索菲觉得它就像一个巨大的工具箱。
索菲迅速地打开箱子上面的两个扣，看了一眼兰登。然后，两个人一起抬起沉重的盖子，向后掀开。
他们走上前，朝箱子里望去。
索菲看第一眼时，还以为箱子是空的。不过，接下来她在箱子底上看到了一件东西。
那是个打磨光滑的木盒，有鞋盒那么大，配着精美的合页。木头是深紫色的，发着黯淡的光，上面有粗线条的纹理。紫檀木，索菲认了出来。这是祖父最喜爱的木材。盒盖上镶嵌着一朵美丽的玫瑰花图案。她和兰登交换了一下困惑的眼神。索菲侧过身，拿起盒子仔细端详。
天哪，它竟然很沉！
索菲小心翼翼地把盒子放到大桌子上。兰登站到她身边，和她一起目不转睛地盯着这个小小的财宝箱。这就是祖父要他们来拿的东西！
兰登惊异地看着盒盖上手工雕刻的图案--那是一朵五瓣玫瑰。他以前曾多次看到过这种玫瑰的图案。他低声说道："五瓣玫瑰。这是隐修会用来代表圣杯的标志呀。"
索菲转过身，看着他。兰登看得出索菲的心思，他也有相同的疑虑。盒子的大小、重量以及隐修会代表圣杯的标志似乎都暗示着一个不可思议的结论。耶稣的圣杯就在这个木盒子里！兰登再一次告诉自己这是不可能的。
索菲低声说道："这个盒子倒是挺适合放圣杯。"
但里面不可能是圣杯。
索菲把盒子拽过来，准备打开。可是，就在她拖动盒子的时候，意想不到的事情发生了。盒子里传出汩汩的水声。
兰登把盒子拿起来。里面有液体？
索菲也感到迷惑不解。"刚才你有没有听到……"
兰登困惑地点点头。"液体。"
索菲伸手慢慢地打开盒扣，掀起盖子。
里面的东西是兰登从没见过的。然而，可以肯定的是那绝对不是圣杯。
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Chapter 45
"The police are blocking the street," André Vernet said, walking into the waiting room. "Gettingyou out will be difficult." As he closed the door behind him, Vernet saw the heavy-duty plasticcase on the conveyor belt and halted in his tracks. My God! They accessed Saunière's account?
　　Sophie and Langdon were at the table, huddling over what looked to be a large wooden jewelrybox. Sophie immediately closed the lid and looked up. "We had the account number after all," shesaid.
　　Vernet was speechless. This changed everything. He respectfully diverted his eyes from the boxand tried to figure out his next move. I have to get them out of the bank! But with the police alreadyhaving set up a roadblock, Vernet could imagine only one way to do that. "Mademoiselle Neveu, ifI can get you safely out of the bank, will you be taking the item with you or returning it to the vaultbefore you leave?"Sophie glanced at Langdon and then back to Vernet. "We need to take it."Vernet nodded. "Very well. Then whatever the item is, I suggest you wrap it in your jacket as wemove through the hallways. I would prefer nobody else see it."As Langdon shed his jacket, Vernet hurried over to the conveyor belt, closed the now empty crate,and typed a series of simple commands. The conveyor belt began moving again, carrying theplastic container back down to the vault. Pulling the gold key from the podium, he handed it toSophie.
　　"This way please. Hurry."When they reached the rear loading dock, Vernet could see the flash of police lights filteringthrough the underground garage. He frowned. They were probably blocking the ramp. Am I reallygoing to try to pull this off? He was sweating now.
　　Vernet motioned to one of the bank's small armored trucks. Transport s.r was another serviceoffered by the Depository Bank of Zurich.
　　"Get in the cargo hold," he said, heaving open the massive rear door and motioning to theglistening steel compartment. "I'll be right back."As Sophie and Langdon climbed in, Vernet hurried across the loading dock to the dock overseer'soffice, let himself in, collected the keys for the truck, and found a driver's uniform jacket and cap.
　　Shedding his own suit coat and tie, he began to put on the driver's jacket. Reconsidering, he donneda shoulder holster beneath the uniform. On his way out, he grabbed a driver's pistol from the rack,put in a clip, and stuffed it in the holster, buttoning his uniform over it. Returning to the truck,Vernet pulled the driver's cap down low and peered in at Sophie and Langdon, who were standinginside the empty steel box.
　　"You'll want this on," Vernet said, reaching inside and flicking a wall switch to illuminate the lonecourtesy bulb on the hold's ceiling. "And you'd better sit down. Not a sound on our way out thegate."Sophie and Langdon sat down on the metal floor. Langdon cradled the treasure wadded in histweed jacket. Swinging the heavy doors closed, Vernet locked them inside. Then he got in behindthe wheel and revved the engine.
　　As the armored truck lumbered toward the top of the ramp, Vernet could feel the sweat alreadycollecting beneath his driver's cap. He could see there were far more police lights in front than hehad imagined. As the truck powered up the ramp, the interior gate swung inward to let him pass.
　　Vernet advanced and waited while the gate behind him closed before pulling forward and trippingthe next sensor. The second gate opened, and the exit beckoned.
　　Except for the police car blocking the top of the ramp.
　　Vernet dabbed his brow and pulled forward.
　　A lanky officer stepped out and waved him to a stop a few meters from the roadblock. Four patrolcars were parked out front.
　　Vernet stopped. Pulling his driver's cap down farther, he effected as rough a facade as his culturedupbringing would allow. Not budging from behind the wheel, he opened the door and gazed downat the agent, whose face was stern and sallow.
　　"Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" Vernet asked, his tone rough.
　　"Je suis Jérome Collet," the agent said. "Lieutenant Police Judiciaire." He motioned to the truck'scargo hold. "Qu'est-ce qu'ily a là dedans?""Hell if I know," Vernet replied in crude French. "I'm only a driver."Collet looked unimpressed. "We're looking for two criminals."Vernet laughed. "Then you came to the right spot. Some of these bastards I drive for have so muchmoney they must be criminals."The agent held up a passport picture of Robert Langdon. "Was this man in your bank tonight?"Vernet shrugged. "No clue. I'm a dock rat. They don't let us anywhere near the clients. You need togo in and ask the front desk.""Your bank is demanding a search warrant before we can enter."Vernet put on a disgusted look. "Administrators. Don't get me started.""Open your truck, please." Collet motioned toward the cargo hold.
　　Vernet stared at the agent and forced an obnoxious laugh. "Open the truck? You think I have keys?
　　You think they trust us? You should see the crap wages I get paid."The agent's head tilted to one side, his skepticism evident. "You're telling me you don't have keysto your own truck?"Vernet shook his head. "Not the cargo area. Ignition only. These trucks get sealed by overseers onthe loading dock. Then the truck sits in dock while someone drives the cargo keys to the drop-off.
　　Once we get the call that the cargo keys are with the recipient, then I get the okay to drive. Not asecond before. I never know what the hell I'm lugging.""When was this truck sealed?""Must have been hours ago. I'm driving all the way up to St. Thurial tonight. Cargo keys arealready up there."The agent made no response, his eyes probing as if trying to read Vernet's mind.
　　A drop of sweat was preparing to slide down Vernet's nose. "You mind?" he said, wiping his nosewith his sleeve and motioning to the police car blocking his way. "I'm on a tight schedule.""Do all the drivers wear Rolexes?" the agent asked, pointing to Vernet's wrist.
　　Vernet glanced down and saw the glistening band of his absurdly expensive watch peeking outfrom beneath the sleeve of his jacket. Merde. "This piece of shit? Bought it for twenty euro from aTaiwanese street vendor in St. Germain des Prés. I'll sell it to you for forty."The agent paused and finally stepped aside. "No thanks. Have a safe trip."Vernet did not breathe again until the truck was a good fifty meters down the street. And now hehad another problem. His cargo. Where do I take them?
"警察正在封锁街道。"安德烈。韦尔内边说边走进房间。"让你们出去很困难。"关上门后，他发现了传送带上的那个结实的塑料箱。上帝！他们找到了索尼埃的账号？
索菲和兰登正挤在桌旁看着一个大大的木头珠宝盒。索菲合上盖子，抬头说道："我们终究还是找到了账号。"韦尔内一句话也没说。一切都为之改变了。他敬畏地把眼光从盒子上移开，计划着下一步的行动。"我必须得把他们送出银行！"由于警察已经设置了路障，韦尔内只能想出一个办法把他们弄出去。"奈芙小姐，如果我能把你们安全地送出银行，你是要把这个东西带上呢，还是在走之前把它重新放回金库？"
索菲看了兰登一眼，对韦尔内说："我们得把它带走。"
韦尔内点点头，说道："好的。那么，不管那是什么，我建议你们穿过通道时用夹克衫把它包起来。我不希望让别人看到。"兰登脱下夹克衫，韦尔内快步走到传送带旁关上那个空箱子，然后输入了几个简单的指令。于是，传送带又开始转动，把那个塑料箱运回金库。他从电子装置上拔出钥匙递给索菲。
"这边走。快！"
他们到达装货台时，韦尔内可以看到从地下车库里透过来的闪烁的警灯。他皱起了眉头。他们也许正在封锁坡道。我能把他们成功地带出去吗？他浑身冷汗直冒。
他走向一辆银行的小型装甲车。安全运输是苏黎世储蓄银行提供的另一项服务。"快进货舱。"他打开沉重的后门，指着闪闪发亮的铁车厢说。"我马上就回来。"索菲和兰登往车厢里爬，韦尔内则急匆匆地穿过装货台，走进装货台那头的办公室，拿起一串钥匙，找出一件司机穿的工装夹克衫和一顶帽子。他脱下自己的西装外套，解下领带，换上司机穿的夹克衫。转念一想，他又在制服里面系上了熗套。出来时，他从行李架上抓起一把司机用的手熗，装上子弹，把熗塞进熗套，然后扣上制服的纽扣。他走回装甲车，拉低帽檐，瞅了瞅站在空荡荡的铁车厢里的索菲和兰登。
"你们需要把这个打开。"韦尔内边说边伸手进货舱按了一下墙上的开关，打开了舱顶上的照明灯。"你们最好坐下。出大门时千万别出声。"
索菲和兰登坐在货舱的金属地板上。兰登抱着那个用斜纹呢夹克裹着的宝贝。韦尔内"砰"地一声把大铁门关上，把他们锁在了里面。然后，他坐到方向盘后，启动了装甲车。
当装甲车轰隆隆地顺着坡道往上开时，韦尔内感到帽子里已经满是汗水。前方的警灯远比想象的要多。当装甲车加速爬上坡道时，第一道门朝里打开了。韦尔内开了过去。门在车后关上了。他继续把车开到第二道门前。第二道门也打开了。马上就可以出去了。
除非警车把坡道口封住了。
韦尔内轻轻地擦了擦眉头的汗，继续前进。
一个瘦高个的警察走上前来，挥手让他把车停在路障前。前面远一点的地方停着四辆巡逻车。
韦尔内把车停下。他把帽檐压得低低的，尽量掩饰起平时温文尔雅的风度，装出一副粗暴冷酷的样子。他推开车门，坐在方向盘后俯视着那个脸色铁青的警察。
"这不是我们自己的通道吗？"韦尔内粗声问道。
"我是科莱，警署中尉。"那个警察说道。他指着装甲车的货舱问："这里面是什么？"
韦尔内用粗鲁的法语回答："见鬼！我怎么知道那是什么东西。我只不过是个司机。"
科莱不动声色，继续说道："我们正在寻找两个罪犯。"
韦尔内放声大笑起来："那你就来对地方了。雇我开车的几个混蛋这么有钱，他们肯定是罪犯。"
那个警察拿出一张罗伯特。兰登护照上的照片，问道："这个人今天晚上是不是在你们银行？"
韦尔内耸耸肩说："不知道。我只是装货台上的小老鼠。他们不让我们接近客户。你应该进去问一下前台。""银行非要我们出示搜查令才让我们进。"
韦尔内露出厌烦的表情。"别拿当官的吓唬人。"
"请打开车厢。"科莱指着货舱说。
韦尔内瞪了他一眼，发出一阵怪笑。"打开车厢？你以为我有钥匙？你以为他们这么信任我们？他XX 的，你看看我拿的那一丁点薪水就知道了。"警察歪着头，显然不相信他的话。"你说你没有自己车上的钥匙？"
韦尔内摇摇头。"没有货舱的钥匙。只有开车用的。工头把货舱在装车的地方锁好后，让车等在那里，然后派人另外开着车把钥匙交给收货人。我们这边接到电话说收货人已经拿到钥匙后，才能发车。提前一秒钟都不行。他妈的，我从来都不知道我拉的是什么东西。""这辆车是什么时候锁上的？"
"肯定是在几个小时之前。我今晚要一直把车开到圣。塞瑞，货舱的钥匙早就到那儿了。"警察不吱声，只是死死地盯着他，好像要看出他的心思。
一颗汗珠眼看就要滑下韦尔内的鼻子了。"你不介意把它开走吧？"他用袖子擦了一下鼻子，顺势指着那辆挡在路上的警车说。"我要赶时间。"
"所有的司机都戴劳力士手表吗？"警察指着韦尔内的手腕问道。
韦尔内低头一看，发现他那块闪闪发亮的昂贵的名表从夹克衫的袖子下面露了出来。
"他妈的，这个东西吗？在圣。塞瑞时从一个台湾小贩那里用20 欧元买的。你要的话，我40块钱卖给你。"警察犹豫了一下，终于还是放行了。"不用，谢谢。路上注意安全。"
韦尔内把车开出足足50 米后，才长出了一口气。现在，他又要面对另外一个问题--他的货物。我把他们送到哪里去呢？
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Chapter 46
Silas lay prone on the canvas mat in his room, allowing the lash wounds on his back to clot in theair. Tonight's second session with the Discipline had left him dizzy and weak. He had yet toremove the cilice belt, and he could feel the blood trickling down his inner thigh. Still, he could notjustify removing the strap.
　　I have failed the Church.
　　Far worse, I have failed the bishop.
　　Tonight was supposed to be Bishop Aringarosa's salvation. Five months ago, the bishop hadreturned from a meeting at the Vatican Observatory, where he had learned something that left himdeeply changed. Depressed for weeks, Aringarosa had finally shared the news with Silas.
　　"But this is impossible!" Silas had cried out. "I cannot accept it!""It is true," Aringarosa said. "Unthinkable, but true. In only six months."The bishop's words terrified Silas. He prayed for deliverance, and even in those dark days, his trustin God and The Way never wavered. It was only a month later that the clouds parted miraculouslyand the light of possibility shone through.
　　Divine intervention, Aringarosa had called it.
　　The bishop had seemed hopeful for the first time. "Silas," he whispered, "God has bestowed uponus an opportunity to protect The Way. Our battle, like all battles, will take sacrifice. Will you be asoldier of God?"Silas fell to his knees before Bishop Aringarosa—the man who had given him a new life—and hesaid, "I am a lamb of God. Shepherd me as your heart commands."When Aringarosa described the opportunity that had presented itself, Silas knew it could only bethe hand of God at work. Miraculous fate! Aringarosa put Silas in contact with the man who hadproposed the plan—a man who called himself the Teacher. Although the Teacher and Silas nevermet face-to-face, each time they spoke by phone, Silas was awed, both by the profundity of theTeacher's faith and by the scope of his power. The Teacher seemed to be a man who knew all, aman with eyes and ears in all places. How the Teacher gathered his information, Silas did notknow, but Aringarosa had placed enormous trust in the Teacher, and he had told Silas to do thesame. "Do as the Teacher commands you," the bishop told Silas. "And we will be victorious."Victorious. Silas now gazed at the bare floor and feared victory had eluded them. The Teacher hadbeen tricked. The keystone was a devious dead end. And with the deception, all hope had vanished.
　　Silas wished he could call Bishop Aringarosa and warn him, but the Teacher had removed all theirlines of direct communication tonight. For our safety.
　　Finally, overcoming enormous trepidation, Silas crawled to his feet and found his robe, which layon the floor. He dug his cell phone from the pocket. Hanging his head in shame, he dialed.
　　"Teacher," he whispered, "all is lost." Silas truthfully told the man how he had been tricked.
　　"You lose your faith too quickly," the Teacher replied. "I have just received news. Mostunexpected and welcome. The secret lives. Jacques Saunière transferred information before hedied. I will call you soon. Our work tonight is not yet done."
塞拉斯趴在屋内的帆布毯子上，好让鞭打的伤口凝结。今晚第二次接受戒律的鞭策让他感到眩晕，浑身无力。他必须把粗布腰带解开，他能感觉到血从大腿内侧汩汩地流下来。可他却始终无法解开腰带。
我辜负了教会。
我更辜负了主教。
今晚理应是阿林加洛沙主教的拯救日。五个月之前，主教去梵蒂冈天文台开会，得到了一个令他震惊的消息。压抑了几个礼拜之后，他最终还是告诉了塞拉斯。
"不可能！"塞拉斯大叫道。"我决不能接受！"
"是真的。"阿林加洛沙说道。"意想不到，但却是真的。在短短的6 个月里。"
主教的话让塞拉斯惊恐不已。他祈祷能够得到解脱。即便在那些黑暗日子里，他对上帝和教会的信仰也从未动摇过。但是，仅仅一个月之后，乌云奇迹般地散去，希望的光芒呈现在眼前。
神的力量，阿林加洛沙这样解释道。
主教第一次看到了希望。"塞拉斯。"他轻声说道。"上帝给了我们一次千载难逢的机会去捍卫我们的信仰。像所有战争一样，我们的战争也会有牺牲。你愿做上帝的士兵吗？"
塞拉斯跪倒在赋予他新生的阿林加洛沙主教的面前，说道："我是上帝的羔羊。按照上帝旨意指引我前进吧。"阿林加洛沙向他讲述了那个摆在眼前的机会，塞拉斯明白了这只能是上帝的旨意。神奇的命运！阿林加洛沙让塞拉斯跟提出这个计划的人联系--那人自称"导师"。虽然塞拉斯和"导师"素未谋面，但每次通电话时，塞拉斯都对"导师"虔诚的信仰和广大的神通表示深深的敬畏。"导师"好像知道所有的事情，在每个地方都有眼线。塞拉斯不知道"导师"是怎样收集信息的，但是阿林加洛沙非常信任"导师"，并且要塞拉斯也这么做。他对塞拉斯说："按照"导师"的命令做，我们就能胜利。"
胜利。塞拉斯看着光光的地板，害怕胜利就将离他们而去。导师上当了。寻找楔石之路根本就走不通。这个骗局将所有的希望都打破了。
塞拉斯真希望他能给阿林加洛沙主教打电话，发出警报。可是今晚导师已经切断了他们直接联系的途径。为了我们的安全。
最终，塞拉斯止住了颤抖，慢慢地站了起来，拿起地板上的长袍。他从口袋里摸出手机，羞愧地拨打着号码。
"导师。"他低声说道。"一切都完了。"塞拉斯原原本本地叙述了自己受骗的经过。
"你怎么能这么快就丧失信心呢。"导师答道。"我刚得到一些出乎意料，但令人欣慰的消息。神秘的命运。雅克。索尼埃临死之前留下了信息。我等会儿再打给你。今晚的工作还没结束。"
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Chapter  47
Riding inside the dimly lit cargo hold of the armored truck was like being transported inside a cellfor solitary confinement. Langdon fought the all too familiar anxiety that haunted him in confinedspaces. Vernet said he would take us a safe distance out of the city. Where? How far?
　　Langdon's legs had gotten stiff from sitting cross-legged on the metal floor, and he shifted hisposition, wincing to feel the blood pouring back into his lower body. In his arms, he still clutchedthe bizarre treasure they had extricated from the bank.
　　"I think we're on the highway now," Sophie whispered.
　　Langdon sensed the same thing. The truck, after an unnerving pause atop the bank ramp, hadmoved on, snaking left and right for a minute or two, and was now accelerating to what felt like topspeed. Beneath them, the bulletproof tires hummed on smooth pavement. Forcing his attention tothe rosewood box in his arms, Langdon laid the precious bundle on the floor, unwrapped his jacket,and extracted the box, pulling it toward him. Sophie shifted her position so they were sitting sideby side. Langdon suddenly felt like they were two kids huddled over a Christmas present.
　　In contrast to the warm colors of the rosewood box, the inlaid rose had been crafted of a pale wood,probably ash, which shone clearly in the dim light. The Rose. Entire armies and religions had beenbuilt on this symbol, as had secret societies. The Rosicrucians. The Knights of the Rosy Cross.
　　"Go ahead," Sophie said. "Open it."Langdon took a deep breath. Reaching for the lid, he stole one more admiring glance at theintricate woodwork and then, unhooking the clasp, he opened the lid, revealing the object within.
　　Langdon had harbored several fantasies about what they might find inside this box, but clearly hehad been wrong on every account. Nestled snugly inside the box's heavily padded interior ofcrimson silk lay an object Langdon could not even begin to comprehend.
　　Crafted of polished white marble, it was a stone cylinder approximately the dimensions of a tennisball can. More complicated than a simple column of stone, however, the cylinder appeared to havebeen assembled in many pieces. Six doughnut-sized disks of marble had been stacked and affixedto one another within a delicate brass framework. It looked like some kind of tubular, multiwheeledkaleidoscope. Each end of the cylinder was affixed with an end cap, also marble, making itimpossible to see inside. Having heard liquid within, Langdon assumed the cylinder was hollow.
　　As mystifying as the construction of the cylinder was, however, it was the engravings around thetube's circumference that drew Langdon's primary focus. Each of the six disks had been carefullycarved with the same unlikely series of letters—the entire alphabet. The lettered cylinder remindedLangdon of one of his childhood toys—a rod threaded with lettered tumblers that could be rotatedto spell different words.
　　"Amazing, isn't it?" Sophie whispered.
　　Langdon glanced up. "I don't know. What the hell is it?"Now there was a glint in Sophie's eye. "My grandfather used to craft these as a hobby. They wereinvented by Leonardo da Vinci."Even in the diffuse light, Sophie could see Langdon's surprise.
　　"Da Vinci?" he muttered, looking again at the canister.
　　"Yes. It's called a cryptex. According to my grandfather, the blueprints come from one of DaVinci's secret diaries.""What is it for?"Considering tonight's events, Sophie knew the answer might have some interesting implications.
　　"It's a vault," she said. "For storing secret information."Langdon's eyes widened further.
　　Sophie explained that creating models of Da Vinci's inventions was one of her grandfather's best-loved hobbies. A talented craftsman who spent hours in his wood and metal shop, Jacques Saunièreenjoyed imitating master craftsmen—Fabergé, assorted cloisonne artisans, and the less artistic, butfar more practical, Leonardo da Vinci.
　　Even a cursory glance through Da Vinci's journals revealed why the luminary was as notorious forhis lack of follow-through as he was famous for his brilliance. Da Vinci had drawn up blueprintsfor hundreds of inventions he had never built. One of Jacques Saunière's favorite pastimes wasbringing Da Vinci's more obscure brainstorms to life—timepieces, water pumps, cryptexes, andeven a fully articulated model of a medieval French knight, which now stood proudly on the deskin his office. Designed by Da Vinci in 1495 as an outgrowth of his earliest anatomy andkinesiology studies, the internal mechanism of the robot knight possessed accurate joints andtendons, and was designed to sit up, wave its arms, and move its head via a flexible neck whileopening and closing an anatomically correct jaw. This armor-clad knight, Sophie had alwaysbelieved, was the most beautiful object her grandfather had ever built... that was, until she had seenthe cryptex in this rosewood box.
　　"He made me one of these when I was little," Sophie said. "But I've never seen one so ornate andlarge."Langdon's eyes had never left the box. "I've never heard of a cryptex."Sophie was not surprised. Most of Leonardo's unbuilt inventions had never been studied or evennamed. The term cryptex possibly had been her grandfather's creation, an apt title for this devicethat used the science of cryptology to protect information written on the contained scroll or codex.
　　Da Vinci had been a cryptology pioneer, Sophie knew, although he was seldom given credit.
　　Sophie's university instructors, while presenting computer encryption methods for securing data,praised modern cryptologists like Zimmerman and Schneier but failed to mention that it wasLeonardo who had invented one of the first rudimentary forms of public key encryption centuriesago. Sophie's grandfather, of course, had been the one to tell her all about that.
　　As their armored truck roared down the highway, Sophie explained to Langdon that the cryptexhad been Da Vinci's solution to the dilemma of sending secure messages over long distances. In anera without telephones or e-mail, anyone wanting to convey private information to someone faraway had no option but to write it down and then trust a messenger to carry the letter.
　　Unfortunately, if a messenger suspected the letter might contain valuable information, he couldmake far more money selling the information to adversaries than he could delivering the letterproperly.
　　Many great minds in history had invented cryptologic solutions to the challenge of data protection:
　　Julius Caesar devised a code-writing scheme called the Caesar Box; Mary, Queen of Scots createda transposition cipher and sent secret communiqués from prison; and the brilliant Arab scientistAbu Yusuf Ismail al-Kindi protected his secrets with an ingeniously conceived polyalphabeticsubstitution cipher.
　　Da Vinci, however, eschewed mathematics and cryptology for a mechanical solution. The cryptex.
　　A portable container that could safeguard letters, maps, diagrams, anything at all. Once informationwas sealed inside the cryptex, only the individual with the proper password could access it.
　　"We require a password," Sophie said, pointing out the lettered dials. "A cryptex works much like abicycle's combination lock. If you align the dials in the proper position, the lock slides open. Thiscryptex has five lettered dials. When you rotate them to their proper sequence, the tumblers insidealign, and the entire cylinder slides apart.""And inside?""Once the cylinder slides apart, you have access to a hollow central compartment, which can hold ascroll of paper on which is the information you want to keep private."Langdon looked incredulous. "And you say your grandfather built these for you when you wereyounger?""Some smaller ones, yes. A couple times for my birthday, he gave me a cryptex and told me ariddle. The answer to the riddle was the password to the cryptex, and once I figured it out, I couldopen it up and find my birthday card.""A lot of work for a card.""No, the cards always contained another riddle or clue. My grandfather loved creating elaboratetreasure hunts around our house, a string of clues that eventually led to my real gift. Each treasurehunt was a test of character and merit, to ensure I earned my rewards. And the tests were neversimple."Langdon eyed the device again, still looking skeptical. "But why not just pry it apart? Or smash it?
　　The metal looks delicate, and marble is a soft rock."Sophie smiled. "Because Da Vinci is too smart for that. He designed the cryptex so that if you tryto force it open in any way, the information self-destructs. Watch." Sophie reached into the box andcarefully lifted out the cylinder. "Any information to be inserted is first written on a papyrusscroll.""Not vellum?"Sophie shook her head. "Papyrus. I know sheep's vellum was more durable and more common inthose days, but it had to be papyrus. The thinner the better.""Okay.""Before the papyrus was inserted into the cryptex's compartment, it was rolled around a delicateglass vial." She tipped the cryptex, and the liquid inside gurgled. "A vial of liquid.""Liquid what?"Sophie smiled. "Vinegar."Langdon hesitated a moment and then began nodding. "Brilliant."Vinegar and papyrus, Sophie thought. If someone attempted to force open the cryptex, the glassvial would break, and the vinegar would quickly dissolve the papyrus. By the time anyoneextracted the secret message, it would be a glob of meaningless pulp.
　　"As you can see," Sophie told him, "the only way to access the information inside is to know theproper five-letter password. And with five dials, each with twenty-six letters, that's twenty-six tothe fifth power." She quickly estimated the permutations. "Approximately twelve millionpossibilities.""If you say so," Langdon said, looking like he had approximately twelve million questions runningthrough his head. "What information do you think is inside?""Whatever it is, my grandfather obviously wanted very badly to keep it secret." She paused, closingthe box lid and eyeing the five-petal Rose inlaid on it. Something was bothering her. "Did you sayearlier that the Rose is a symbol for the Grail?""Exactly. In Priory symbolism, the Rose and the Grail are synonymous."Sophie furrowed her brow. "That's strange, because my grandfather always told me the Rose meantsecrecy. He used to hang a rose on his office door at home when he was having a confidentialphone call and didn't want me to disturb him. He encouraged me to do the same." Sweetie, hergrandfather said, rather than lock each other out, we can each hang a rose—la fleur dessecrets—on our door when we need privacy. This way we learn to respect and trust each other.
　　Hanging a rose is an ancient Roman custom.
　　"Sub rosa," Langdon said. "The Romans hung a rose over meetings to indicate the meeting wasconfidential. Attendees understood that whatever was said under the rose—or sub rosa—had toremain a secret."Langdon quickly explained that the Rose's overtone of secrecy was not the only reason the Prioryused it as a symbol for the Grail. Rosa rugosa, one of the oldest species of rose, had five petals andpentagonal symmetry, just like the guiding star of Venus, giving the Rose strong iconographic tiesto womanhood. In addition, the Rose had close ties to the concept of "true direction" andnavigating one's way. The Compass Rose helped travelers navigate, as did Rose Lines, thelongitudinal lines on maps. For this reason, the Rose was a symbol that spoke of the Grail on manylevels—secrecy, womanhood, and guidance—the feminine chalice and guiding star that led tosecret truth.
　　As Langdon finished his explanation, his expression seemed to tighten suddenly.
　　"Robert? Are you okay?"His eyes were riveted to the rosewood box. "Sub... rosa," he choked, a fearful bewildermentsweeping across his face. "It can't be.""What?"Langdon slowly raised his eyes. "Under the sign of the Rose," he whispered. "This cryptex... Ithink I know what it is."
坐在装甲车那光线昏暗的货舱里就像在小房间里关禁闭一样。兰登极力克制自己的焦急，这种感觉太熟悉了，每次他被关起来时，都会有这种感觉。韦尔内说要把我们送到一个远离城市的安全的地带。那是什么地方呢？有多远呀？
长时间盘腿而坐的姿势使兰登的双腿都僵硬了。他换了个姿势，疼得向后一仰，感觉血又重新流回到了下半身。他仍然紧紧抱着那个从银行里拯救出来的奇异宝贝。
"我想我们已经上了高速公路。"索菲轻声说。
兰登也有同感。装甲车爬上银行的坡道后，停了老大一会儿，让人捏了一把汗。然后，车又左右迂回地前行了一两分钟，现在则好像在全速前进。防弹轮胎在乎坦的公路上转动，发出"轰隆隆"的声响。兰登又将注意力转到怀中的紫檀木盒子上。他把这宝贝盒子放在车厢地板上，打开包裹在外面的夹克衫，取出盒子，拉到自己面前。索菲转身，靠到他身边。兰登突然觉得他俩就像挤在一起看圣诞礼物的孩子。
与暖色调的紫檀木盒子不同，嵌在上面的玫瑰是用浅色的木头--可能是白腊木--刻成的。玫瑰在昏暗的灯光下清晰可辨。玫瑰。整个军队、宗教组织和秘密团体都是以它为基础建立起来的。蔷薇十字会员。玫瑰十字社的骑士。
"来啊，打开。"索菲说。
兰登深吸了一口气，把手伸向盒盖，用欣赏的目光看了看精致的盒子，打开扣钩，掀开盖子。里面的东西露了出来。
兰登曾猜想过盒子里究竟是什么东西，可是现在看来，他原有的猜测都是错的。盒内厚厚的紫红色丝绸衬里上放着一个兰登根本就不认识的东西。
那是个光滑的白色大理石圆筒，有网球罐那么大，非常精致。它看上去远比普通的圆柱形石头复杂，因为它好像是由好几块小石头拼凑成的。一个精致的铜框里叠放着六个大理石圆盘，就像一个管状的万花筒、圆筒的两端也用大理石粘着，根本无法看到圆柱内部。因为听到过液体的声音，所以兰登推测这个圆筒应该是中空的。
圆筒不仅外形神秘，周围还雕刻着许多图案，这引起了兰登的极大兴趣。每个小圆盘上都雕刻着一系列精致的字母--这些字母组成了完整的字母表。这样的圆筒使兰登想起了儿时的一种玩具--一根木棍上穿着刻有字母的转筒，转筒一转，就能拼出不同的单词。
"不可思议，是吧？"索菲小声问道。
兰登抬起头。"我不知道这到底是个什么鬼东西。"
索菲的眼睛闪闪发亮。"祖父过去特别喜欢制作这种东西。它是由达。芬奇发明的。"
即便在微弱的灯光下，索菲也能看到兰登脸上吃惊的表情。
"达。芬奇？"他又瞅了瞅那个圆筒，喃喃地说。
"是的。这叫做密码筒。祖父说，这个东西的设计图来自于达。芬奇的秘密日记。"
"这有什么用呢？"
想起今晚发生的事情，索菲觉得自己的回答也许会包含一些有趣的暗示。"这是个宝库，是用来保存秘密信息的。"兰登把眼睛睁得更大了。
索菲解释说，祖父最大的爱好之一就是根据达。芬奇的发明制作模型。雅克。索尼埃是个很有天分的工匠，经常会在放满木料和金属的工作室里呆上半天。他喜爱模仿工匠大师--精通景泰蓝的各种制作工艺的费伯奇，和艺术感略逊一筹，但更注重实用性的列昂纳多。达。芬奇。
只要浏览一下达。芬奇的日记，就会明白为什么这个博学的人在以聪明睿智而闻名于世的同时，会因做事虎头蛇尾而名声狼藉。达。芬奇曾画了上千张设计图纸，但从来也没有把它们付诸实践。雅克。索尼埃的消遣之一就是把达。芬奇的突发奇想变成现实--他制作了时间机器、水泵、密码筒，甚至还做了一个完全用铰链连接的中世纪法国骑士的模型。那个模型骑士现在正骄傲地站在他办公室的桌上。这个模型是达。芬奇于1495 年设计的。它以达。芬奇早年对解剖学和运动机能学的研究为基础，因此这个模型人有非常准确的关节和肌腱机构。根据设计，这个模型人可以坐起来，并能挥动手臂，还能转动脖子，同时张开下巴。在没看见这个密码筒之前，索菲还以为那个穿着盔甲的骑士是祖父的最佳作品。
"我小时候，他就给我做过一个这样的东西。"索菲说。"只是没有这么大，这么精美。"
兰登目不转睛地看着盒子："我从没听说过密码筒。"
索菲完全可以理解他的反应。很少人研究达。芬奇那些纸上谈兵的发明，而且一些发明连名字都没有。"密码筒"这个名字可能也是祖父起的。这个名称还是很贴切的，因为这个装置是运用密码术来保存信息的。
虽然达。芬奇对密码学的研究鲜为人知，但索菲确信他确实是这方面的先锋人物。索菲的大学老师在演示电脑编写密码的方法时，曾高度赞扬了斯莫曼和史格涅尔等当代密码学家，但没有指出实际上是达。芬奇在几百年前就发明了最基本的公众密码的编写方法。当然，索菲的祖父早就跟她说过这些。
装甲车在公路上呼啸着疾驰。索菲解释道："密码筒是达。芬奇为长途运送秘密情报而设计的。在那个没有电话和电子邮件的时代，人们要想把私人信息传递给远方朋友的话，就只能把要说的话写下来然后拜托信使送去。然而，如果送信人知道信里有重要信息，为了能赚更多的钱，就会把这个消息卖给发信者的敌人。"历史上有许多著名人物都曾尝试利用密码来保护信息。朱利亚斯。凯萨设计过一个叫做"凯萨盒"的密码保护工具；苏格兰女王马路亚创造过一种换位密码，成功地将秘密报告从监狱里送了出去；著名的阿拉伯科学家阿布曾运用字母替换密码保护他的秘密。
然而，达。芬奇却避开了数学和密码学而采用了"机械"的方法来保护信息。他发明了密码筒--一个可以保护信件、地图、图表等任何东西的便携容器。一旦把秘密放进这个密码筒，那么就只有知道密码的人才能将它取出。
"我们需要密码。"索菲指着刻满字母的转盘说。"密码筒的工作原理跟自行车上的号码锁一样。如果你把这些转盘上的字母正确地排成一行，锁就打开了。这个密码筒有五个转盘。把它们转到正确的位置，整个圆筒就会自动打开了。""那么里面呢？"
"圆筒一打开，你就能看到中间有个隔层，隔层里可以放下一卷纸，你可以把秘密写在上面。"兰登不解地问道："你说你小时候祖父给你做过这些东西？"
"是的，不过都比这个小。有几次是为了我的生日。他会给我一个密码筒，然后再让我猜一个谜语。谜底就是密码筒的密码。一旦我猜出谜底，就能打开密码筒找到生日卡片了。""要找到生日卡片，还真得费一番功夫。"
"不仅如此，卡片上总是写着另一个谜语或线索。祖父喜欢在房子周围精心地设计"寻宝行动"，提供一连串的线索让我去寻找真正的礼物。每次的寻宝行动都是对个性和品德的测试，以确保我有资格得到那个礼物，而且每次的测验都不简单。"兰登转头用怀疑的眼神打量着这个装置。"但是，为什么不把它撬开呢？或者干脆把它砸开？这金属看上去不算结实，大理石也不硬。"索菲笑道："达。芬奇那么聪明，怎么会想不到这一点呢。如果你把它强行打开，里面的信息会自动销毁。看。"索菲把手伸进盒子，小心翼翼地拿起那个圆筒。"放进去的任何信息都要先写在一张草质纸卷上。""不是羊皮纸？"
索菲摇摇头。"草质的纸张。我知道羊皮纸更耐用，而且在那个年代更普遍。但是必须得用草质的纸张，而且越薄越好。""接着说。"
"把草质纸张放进密码筒的隔层之前，得先把它绕在一个玻璃小瓶上。"她敲了一下密码筒，筒里的液体汩汩作响。"瓶里是液体。"
"什么液体？"
索菲笑道："醋。"
兰登愣了一会儿，然后点头称赞："聪明。"
醋和草质纸张，索菲想。如果有人强行打开密码器，就会弄破玻璃瓶，瓶里的醋就会迅速溶解草质纸张。等密码筒被打开的时候，那卷纸早已化作了一团纸浆。
"正如你所见。"索菲说。"得到秘密的唯一方法就是要知道一个正确的五位数密码。这上面有五个转盘，每个转盘上有26 个字母，那可能作为密码的数字就有26 的5 次方……"她迅速地估算。"约有1，200 万个。"
"这么说来。"兰登边说，边琢磨着那1，200 万种可能的排列。"你认为里面藏着什么秘密呢？"
"不管是什么，显然祖父非常想保守这个秘密。"她合上盖子看着那朵五瓣玫瑰，突然愣住了。"你刚才说这个玫瑰是圣杯的标志？"
"一点没错。对隐修会来说，五瓣玫瑰就意味着圣杯。"
索菲皱起眉头："那就太奇怪了，因为祖父一直对我说玫瑰代表着"秘密"。过去他在家里打秘密的电话，不想让我打搅时，总是在他办公室门上挂一朵玫瑰。他让我也学他这么做。祖父会说："宝贝，当我们需要独处的时候，与其把对方锁在门外，倒不如在自己的门上挂一朵代表秘密的玫瑰。这样我们就会学会尊重和信任对方。"要知道，在门上挂玫瑰可是古罗马人的习俗哪。"兰登说道："罗马人开会时在门上挂玫瑰表示会议需要保密。与会者明白凡是在挂玫瑰的会议上通报的内容都是机密的。"兰登又继续解释说，玫瑰暗示着秘密并不是隐修会把它作为圣杯的标志的唯一原因。
一种最古老的玫瑰--五瓣玫瑰--呈对称的五边形，就像维纳斯女神指路的明星，这样玫瑰在形状上就与"女性气质"产生了关联。而且，玫瑰还代表了"正确的方向"。罗盘可以为旅客导航，而"玫瑰线"，也就是地图上的经线也可以帮助人们确定方位。因此，玫瑰从多个层面上代表着圣杯的特质--秘密、女性气质、指引方向--就像指引人们寻求真理的明星。
兰登说完，突然僵在了那里。
"罗伯特，你没事吧？"
兰登死死地盯着紫檀木的盒子。"五瓣玫瑰。"他的喉咙突然哽住了，险上闪过一丝疑惑。
"这不可能。"
"什么？"
兰登慢慢抬起头，轻声说道："在玫瑰标记下面，这个密码筒……我想我知道了。"
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Chapter 48
Langdon could scarcely believe his own supposition, and yet, considering who had given this stonecylinder to them, how he had given it to them, and now, the inlaid Rose on the container, Langdoncould formulate only one conclusion.
　　I am holding the Priory keystone.
　　The legend was specific.
　　The keystone is an encoded stone that lies beneath the sign of the Rose.
　　"Robert?" Sophie was watching him. "What's going on?"Langdon needed a moment to gather his thoughts. "Did your grandfather ever speak to you ofsomething called la clef de vo.te?""The key to the vault?" Sophie translated.
　　"No, that's the literal translation. Clef de vo.te is a common architectural term. Vo.te refers not to abank vault, but to a vault in an archway. Like a vaulted ceiling.""But vaulted ceilings don't have keys.""Actually they do. Every stone archway requires a central, wedge-shaped stone at the top whichlocks the pieces together and carries all the weight. This stone is, in an architectural sense, the keyto the vault. In English we call it a keystone." Langdon watched her eyes for any spark ofrecognition.
　　Sophie shrugged, glancing down at the cryptex. "But this obviously is not a keystone."Langdon didn't know where to begin. Keystones as a masonry technique for building stonearchways had been one of the best-kept secrets of the early Masonic brotherhood. The Royal ArchDegree. Architecture. Keystones. It was all interconnected. The secret knowledge of how to use awedged keystone to build a vaulted archway was part of the wisdom that had made the Masonssuch wealthy craftsmen, and it was a secret they guarded carefully. Keystones had always had atradition of secrecy. And yet, the stone cylinder in the rosewood box was obviously somethingquite different. The Priory keystone—if this was indeed what they were holding—was not at allwhat Langdon had imagined.
　　"The Priory keystone is not my specialty," Langdon admitted. "My interest in the Holy Grail isprimarily symbologic, so I tend to ignore the plethora of lore regarding how to actually find it."Sophie's eyebrows arched. "Find the Holy Grail?"Langdon gave an uneasy nod, speaking his next words carefully. "Sophie, according to Priory lore,the keystone is an encoded map... a map that reveals the hiding place of the Holy Grail."Sophie's face went blank. "And you think this is it?"Langdon didn't know what to say. Even to him it sounded unbelievable, and yet the keystone wasthe only logical conclusion he could muster. An encrypted stone, hidden beneath the sign of theRose.
　　The idea that the cryptex had been designed by Leonardo da Vinci—former Grand Master of thePriory of Sion—shone as another tantalizing indicator that this was indeed the Priory keystone. Aformer Grand Master's blueprint... brought to life centuries later by another Priory member. Thebond was too palpable to dismiss.
　　For the last decade, historians had been searching for the keystone in French churches. Grailseekers, familiar with the Priory's history of cryptic double-talk, had concluded la clef de vo.te wasa literal keystone—an architectural wedge—an engraved, encrypted stone, inserted into a vaultedarchway in a church. Beneath the sign of the Rose. In architecture, there was no shortage of roses.
　　Rose windows. Rosette reliefs. And, of course, an abundance of cinquefoils—the five-petaleddecorative flowers often found at the top of archways, directly over the keystone. The hiding placeseemed diabolically simple. The map to the Holy Grail was incorporated high in an archway ofsome forgotten church, mocking the blind churchgoers who wandered beneath it.
　　"This cryptex can't be the keystone," Sophie argued. "It's not old enough. I'm certain mygrandfather made this. It can't be part of any ancient Grail legend.""Actually," Langdon replied, feeling a tingle of excitement ripple through him, "the keystone isbelieved to have been created by the Priory sometime in the past couple of decades."Sophie's eyes flashed disbelief. "But if this cryptex reveals the hiding place of the Holy Grail, whywould my grandfather give it to me? I have no idea how to open it or what to do with it. I don'teven know what the Holy Grail is!"Langdon realized to his surprise that she was right. He had not yet had a chance to explain toSophie the true nature of the Holy Grail. That story would have to wait. At the moment, they werefocused on the keystone.
　　If that is indeed what this is....
　　Against the hum of the bulletproof wheels beneath them, Langdon quickly explained to Sophieeverything he had heard about the keystone. Allegedly, for centuries, the Priory's biggestsecret—the location of the Holy Grail—was never written down. For security's sake, it wasverbally transferred to each new rising sénéchal at a clandestine ceremony. However, at some pointduring the last century, whisperings began to surface that the Priory policy had changed. Perhaps itwas on account of new electronic eavesdropping capabilities, but the Priory vowed never againeven to speak the location of the sacred hiding place.
　　"But then how could they pass on the secret?" Sophie asked.
　　"That's where the keystone comes in," Langdon explained. "When one of the top four membersdied, the remaining three would choose from the lower echelons the next candidate to ascend assénéchal. Rather than telling the new sénéchal where the Grail was hidden, they gave him a testthrough which he could prove he was worthy."Sophie looked unsettled by this, and Langdon suddenly recalled her mentioning how hergrandfather used to make treasure hunts for her—preuves de mérite. Admittedly, the keystone wasa similar concept. Then again, tests like this were extremely common in secret societies. The bestknown was the Masons', wherein members ascended to higher degrees by proving they could keepa secret and by performing rituals and various tests of merit over many years. The tasks becameprogressively harder until they culminated in a successful candidate's induction as thirty-second-degree Mason.
　　"So the keystone is a preuve de mérite," Sophie said. "If a rising Priory sénéchal can open it, heproves himself worthy of the information it holds."Langdon nodded. "I forgot you'd had experience with this sort of thing.""Not only with my grandfather. In cryptology, that's called a 'self-authorizing language.' That is, ifyou're smart enough to read it, you're permitted to know what is being said."Langdon hesitated a moment. "Sophie, you realize that if this is indeed the keystone, yourgrandfather's access to it implies he was exceptionally powerful within the Priory of Sion. Hewould have to have been one of the highest four members."Sophie sighed. "He was powerful in a secret society. I'm certain of it. I can only assume it was thePriory."Langdon did a double take. "You knew he was in a secret society?""I saw some things I wasn't supposed to see ten years ago. We haven't spoken since." She paused.
　　"My grandfather was not only a ranking top member of the group... I believe he was the topmember."Langdon could not believe what she had just said. "Grand Master? But... there's no way you couldknow that!""I'd rather not talk about it." Sophie looked away, her expression as determined as it was pained.
　　Langdon sat in stunned silence. Jacques Saunière? Grand Master? Despite the astonishingrepercussions if it were true, Langdon had the eerie sensation it almost made perfect sense. Afterall, previous Priory Grand Masters had also been distinguished public figures with artistic souls.
　　Proof of that fact had been uncovered years ago in Paris's Bibliothèque Nationale in papers thatbecame known as Les Dossiers Secrets.
　　Every Priory historian and Grail buff had read the Dossiers. Cataloged under Number 4° lm1 249,the Dossiers Secrets had been authenticated by many specialists and incontrovertibly confirmedwhat historians had suspected for a long time: Priory Grand Masters included Leonardo da Vinci,Botticelli, Sir Isaac Newton, Victor Hugo, and, more recently, Jean Cocteau, the famous Parisianartist.
　　Why not Jacques Saunière?
　　Langdon's incredulity intensified with the realization that he had been slated to meet Saunièretonight. The Priory Grand Master called a meeting with me. Why? To make artistic small talk? Itsuddenly seemed unlikely. After all, if Langdon's instincts were correct, the Grand Master of thePriory of Sion had just transferred the brotherhood's legendary keystone to his granddaughter andsimultaneously commanded her to find Robert Langdon.
　　Inconceivable!
　　Langdon's imagination could conjure no set of circumstances that would explain Saunière'sbehavior. Even if Saunière feared his own death, there were three sénéchaux who also possessedthe secret and therefore guaranteed the Priory's security. Why would Saunière take such anenormous risk giving his granddaughter the keystone, especially when the two of them didn't getalong? And why involve Langdon... a total stranger?
　　A piece of this puzzle is missing, Langdon thought.
　　The answers were apparently going to have to wait. The sound of the slowing engine caused themboth to look up. Gravel crunched beneath the tires. Why is he pulling over already? Langdonwondered. Vernet had told them he would take them well outside the city to safety. The truckdecelerated to a crawl and made its way over unexpectedly rough terrain. Sophie shot Langdon anuneasy look, hastily closing the cryptex box and latching it. Langdon slipped his jacket back on.
　　When the truck came to a stop, the engine remained idling as the locks on the rear doors began toturn. When the doors swung open, Langdon was surprised to see they were parked in a woodedarea, well off the road. Vernet stepped into view, a strained look in his eye. In his hand, he held apistol.
　　"I'm sorry about this," he said. "I really have no choice."
兰登简直不敢相信自己的假设。但是，考虑到密码筒主人的身份，以及密码筒的传递方式，再加上盒盖上的玫瑰标记，他只能得出一个结论。
我拿着的是隐修会的楔石！
传说是真的。
楔石是一块放在玫瑰标记下的有编码的石头。
"罗伯特？"索菲看着他，问道。"怎么了？"
兰登定了定神。"祖父有没有告诉过你一个叫"拱门钥匙"（laclefdevoute）的东西？"
索菲把那个词译成英语："你是说"金库的钥匙"（thekeytothevault）吗？"
"不是，那只是字面意思。"拱门钥匙"是一个很普通的建筑术语。"voute"不是指银行的金库，而是指拱形顶部，比如说拱状的屋顶。""但是拱状的屋顶不需要钥匙呀。"
"实际上它们有钥匙。在每个拱顶的中央都有一个楔子形的石块。这个承重石块是用来固定所有石块的。因此，从建筑学的角度看，这个石块就是拱门的钥匙。在英语里我们把它叫做"楔石"。"兰登紧紧地盯着她的眼睛，看她是否明白。
索菲耸了耸肩，低头看着密码筒。说道："可是，这个显然不是楔石。"
兰登一时不知道从何说起。运用楔石建造拱状屋顶的技术是早期石匠行会严守的秘密之一。皇家拱顶弧度、建筑学以及楔石，都是相互关联的概念。掌握用楔石来建造拱门的秘密知识是石匠们致富的途径之一，因此他们都非常谨慎地保守着这个秘密，一贯有保守楔石秘密的传统。可是，紫檀木盒里的这个石筒显然跟一般的楔石不太一样。假如这个真是隐修会的楔石，那只能说明，隐修会的楔石跟他想象的完全不一样。
"我对隐修会的楔石并没有做过深人的研究。"兰登承认。"我是从象征学的角度来研究圣杯的，因此我一般不太会注意如何寻获圣杯的知识。"索菲睁大双眼，惊奇地问道："寻获圣杯？"
兰登点点头，一字一句地说："索菲，根据隐修会的说法，楔石是-个编有密码的地图。而这个地图标明的就是埋藏圣杯的地点。"索菲一脸茫然。"你认为这就是那个楔石？"
兰登不知道该说些什么，连他自己都觉得这让人难以置信。但是，断定这个东西是楔石，是他能做出的唯一结论。一块藏在玫瑰标记下的刻着密码的石头。
这个密码筒是由前隐修会的导师列昂纳多。达。芬奇设计的，这一事实更证明了这个圆筒就是隐修会的楔石。一个前导师的设计……几百年后隐修会的另一个成员付诸实施。这样的联系太紧密了。
在过去的十年里，历史学家们一直在法国的教堂里寻找着楔石。那些熟悉隐修会密码史的圣杯追寻者一直以为"拱门钥匙"就是真正意义上的楔石，而且这个刻着密码的石头楔子就塞在某个教堂的拱门上。就在玫瑰标记的下面。许多建筑物上都不乏玫瑰标记。玫瑰花形的窗格。玫瑰花形的浮雕。当然还有大量的五边形装饰，拱门的顶上经常会有这种五瓣玫瑰花形的装饰，就在楔石的上面。这些藏宝地似乎太招眼了。标明圣杯埋藏地的地图就塞在某个被人遗忘的教堂拱门上，嘲笑着下面来来往往的无知过客。
索菲争辩道："这个密码筒不可能是楔石，它的年代不够久远。我敢肯定这是祖父做的。这不可能是历史悠久的圣杯传说的一部分。"兰登突然感到一阵兴奋。他回答道："据说楔石实际上是由隐修会在几十年前造出来的。"索菲眨了眨眼，怀疑地说："可是，如果这个密码筒表明了圣杯的埋藏地，祖父为什么把它给我呢？我既不知道怎样打开它，也不知道怎样处置它。我甚至不知道圣杯究竟是什么！"兰登惊异地发现她所言极是。到现在为止，他还没有机会向她解释圣杯的真正意义。
那必须等一等。现在，他们的注意力在楔石上。
如果那是真的……
在防弹轮胎"轰隆隆"的转动声中，兰登快速地向索菲讲解了他所知道的关于圣杯的一切。据他所知，隐修会的最大秘密--也就是圣杯的埋藏地--几百年来从没有文字记载。为了安全起见，这个秘密都是在一个仪式上口头密传给新主教的。然而，在上个世纪，传说隐修会的策略有所改变。这也许是出于对新的电子窃听技术的防备，但不管怎样，隐修会发誓再也不"说出"那个神圣的埋藏地。
索菲问道："那他们怎样把这个秘密传下去呢？"
兰登解释说："这就是楔石出现的原因。当四个最高领导中的一个去世之后，剩下的三个得从低一级的成员中选出下一界的主教候选人。他们不是直接"告诉"候选人圣杯的埋藏地，而是对这个候选人进行测试来确证他有资格知道这个秘密。"索菲看上去有些将信将疑。兰登的话突然使她想起了祖父让她寻宝的往事。无可否认，这次得到楔石也是一次寻宝活动。这样的测试在秘密团体里也非常普遍。最著名的要算石匠行会。在行会里，一个人要想获得更高的职位就要证明他能够保守秘密，而且要在很多年里参加一些仪式并通过各种各样的品德测试。测试越来越难，对准备就任三十二级石匠的候选人的测试难度最大。
索菲说道："因此，楔石就是一个证明。如果隐修会的领导候选人能打开它，就能证明他自己有资格知道楔石里的秘密。"兰登点了点头："我忘了你有这方面的经验。"
"这些不仅仅是从与祖父在一起的经历中得知的。在密码学里，那叫做"自我认可语言"。就是说，如果你够聪明，能看懂密码，你就被允许知道密码的含意。"兰登犹豫了一会儿，说道："索菲，你要知道，如果这确实是楔石，而你祖父能拿到它，则说明他在隐修会里的权势是非常大的。他肯定是四个高层领导中的一个。"索菲叹了一口气，说道："我想他肯定是某个秘密组织里非常有权势的人物，而那个组织就是隐修会。"兰登又试探道："你过去就知道他加入了秘密组织？"
"十年前我看到了一些不该看到的东西。从那以后，我就再也没有跟祖父讲过一句话。
"她停顿了一下，继续说道。"祖父不仅是高层领导人之一，我想他是……那个组织的最高领袖。"兰登简直不敢相信她的话。"你是说他是掌门人？可是……你根本就不可能知道呀！"
"我不想谈论这个了。"索菲把头转向一边，脸上的表情很痛苦，但很坚定。
兰登坐在那儿，目瞪口呆。雅克。索尼埃？掌门人？虽然兰登对此惊讶万分，但他却有种奇怪的感觉，觉得这极有可能是真的。毕竟，历届的隐修会掌门人都是艺术修养很高的社会名流。多年之前，报上一篇题为《莱斯。都司耳斯的秘密》的文章就曾指出了这一点。
早期的隐修会历史学家和圣杯迷们都读过《莱斯。都司耳斯的秘密》这篇文章。这篇文章回答了历史学界悬而未决的问题--隐修会的历任大导师分别是列昂纳多。达。芬奇，鲍特赛里，伊萨克。牛顿爵士，维克多。雨果，以及最近的巴黎著名艺术家基恩。考克图。
为什么就不会有雅克。索尼埃呢？
兰登想起今晚索尼埃与自己安排的会见，觉得此事更加令人难以置信了。隐修会的掌门人打电话说要见我！为什么？难道是为了闲聊些艺术方面的事情吗？显然不可能。毕竟，如果兰登的感觉没错的话，隐修会的掌门人会把传说中的楔石交给他的孙女索菲，同时命令她去找兰登。
这太不可思议了。
兰登实在无法理解索尼埃这样做的动机。即使索尼埃预感到自己即将大祸临头，可还有其他三个领导人知道圣杯的秘密，他们照样可以保证隐修会的安全呀。为什么索尼埃要冒这么大的风险，把楔石交给孙女呢？更何况他们已经断绝联系多年了？而且，为什么要把兰登牵扯进来呢？他可是个陌生人呀。
"这个谜团中肯定有一环脱节了。"兰登想道。
很显然，答案还有待于继续探寻。装甲车的发动机突然减速，轮胎碾碎沙石的声音传进货舱，索菲和兰登抬起了头。"韦尔内为什么要把车停在路边？"兰登疑惑道。韦尔内告诉过他们，会把他们带到远离城市的安全地带。车速慢了下来，装甲车被开上一条颠簸的土路。索菲不安地看了一眼兰登，快速盖上了盒子，扣上搭扣。兰登赶紧脱下夹克，重新把盒子裹了起来。
装甲车停了下来，发动机空转着。后门上的锁眼转动了一下，门被打开了。兰登惊讶地发现，他们被带到了一片远离公路的树林里。韦尔内神情紧张地把头伸了进来，手里拿着一把熗。
"非常抱歉。"他说道。"但我别无选择。"
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Chapter 49
André Vernet looked awkward with a pistol, but his eyes shone with a determination that Langdonsensed would be unwise to test.
　　"I'm afraid I must insist," Vernet said, training the weapon on the two of them in the back of theidling truck. "Set 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," Vernet replied. "And that is exactly what I amdoing. Now set the box on the floor.""My grandfather entrusted this to me!" Sophie declared.
　　"Do it," Vernet commanded, raising the gun.
　　Sophie set the box at her feet.
　　Langdon watched the gun barrel swing now in his direction.
　　"Mr. Langdon," Vernet said, "you will bring the box over to me. And be aware that I'm asking youbecause you I would not hesitate to shoot."Langdon stared at the banker in disbelief. "Why are you doing this?""Why do you imagine?" Vernet snapped, his accented English terse now. "To protect my client'sassets.""We are your clients now," Sophie said.
　　Vernet's visage turned ice-cold, an eerie transformation. "Mademoiselle Neveu, I don't know howyou got that key and account number tonight, but it seems obvious that foul play was involved.
　　Had I known the extent of your crimes, I would never have helped you leave the bank.""I told you," Sophie said, "we had nothing to do with my grandfather's death!"Vernet looked at Langdon. "And yet the radio claims you are wanted not only for the murder ofJacques Saunière but for those of three other men as well?""What!" Langdon was thunderstruck. Three more murders? The coincidental number hit himharder than the fact that he was the prime suspect. It seemed too unlikely to be a coincidence. Thethree sénéchaux? Langdon's eyes dropped to the rosewood box. If the sénéchaux were murdered,Saunière had no options. He had to transfer the keystone to someone.
　　"The police can sort that out when I turn you in," Vernet said. "I have gotten my bank involved toofar already."Sophie glared at Vernet. "You obviously have no intention of turning us in. You would have drivenus back to the bank. And instead you bring us out here and hold us at gunpoint?""Your grandfather hired me for one reason—to keep his possessions both safe and private.
　　Whatever this box contains, I have no intention of letting it become a piece of cataloged evidencein a police investigation. Mr. Langdon, bring me the box."Sophie shook her head. "Don't do it."A gunshot roared, and a bullet tore into the wall above him. The reverberation shook the back ofthe truck as a spent shell clinked onto the cargo floor.
　　Shit! Langdon froze.
　　Vernet spoke more confidently now. "Mr. Langdon, pick up the box."Langdon lifted the box.
　　"Now bring it over to me." Vernet was taking dead aim, standing on the ground behind the rearbumper, his gun outstretched into the cargo hold now.
　　Box in hand, Langdon moved across the hold toward the open door.
　　I've got to do something! Langdon thought. I'm about to hand over the Priory keystone! AsLangdon moved toward the doorway, his position of higher ground became more pronounced, andhe began wondering if he could somehow use it to his advantage. Vernet's gun, though raised, wasat Langdon's knee level. A well-placed kick perhaps? Unfortunately, as Langdon neared, Vernetseemed to sense the dangerous dynamic developing, and he took several steps back, repositioninghimself six feet away. Well out of reach.
　　Vernet commanded, "Place the box beside the door."Seeing no options, Langdon knelt down and set the rosewood box at the edge of the cargo hold,directly in front of the open doors.
　　"Now stand up."Langdon began to stand up but paused, spying the small, spent pistol shell on the floor beside thetruck's precision-crafted doorsill.
　　"Stand up, and step away from the box."Langdon paused a moment longer, eyeing the metal threshold. Then he stood. As he did, hediscreetly brushed the shell over the edge onto the narrow ledge that was the door's lower sill. Fullyupright now, Langdon stepped backward.
　　"Return to the back wall and turn around."Langdon obeyed.
　　Vernet could feel his own heart pounding. Aiming the gun with his right hand, he reached nowwith his left for the wooden box. He discovered that it was far too heavy. I need two hands.
　　Turning his eyes back to his captives, he calculated the risk. Both were a good fifteen feet away, atthe far end of the cargo hold, facing away from him. Vernet made up his mind. Quickly, he laiddown the gun on the bumper, lifted the box with two hands, and set it on the ground, immediatelygrabbing the gun again and aiming it back into the hold. Neither of his prisoners had moved.
　　Perfect. Now all that remained was to close and lock the door. Leaving the box on the ground forthe moment, he grabbed the metal door and began to heave it closed. As the door swung past him,Vernet reached up to grab the single bolt that needed to be slid into place. The door closed with athud, and Vernet quickly grabbed the bolt, pulling it to the left. The bolt slid a few inches andcrunched to an unexpected halt, not lining up with its sleeve. What's going on? Vernet pulledagain, but the bolt wouldn't lock. The mechanism was not properly aligned. The door isn't fullyclosed! Feeling a surge of panic, Vernet shoved hard against the outside of the door, but it refusedto budge. Something is blocking it! Vernet turned to throw full shoulder into the door, but this timethe door exploded outward, striking Vernet in the face and sending him reeling backward onto theground, his nose shattering in pain. The gun flew as Vernet reached for his face and felt the warmblood running from his nose.
　　Robert Langdon hit the ground somewhere nearby, and Vernet tried to get up, but he couldn't see.
　　His vision blurred and he fell backward again. Sophie Neveu was shouting. Moments later, Vernetfelt a cloud of dirt and exhaust billowing over him. He heard the crunching of tires on gravel andsat up just in time to see the truck's wide wheelbase fail to navigate a turn. There was a crash as thefront bumper clipped a tree. The engine roared, and the tree bent. Finally, it was the bumper thatgave, tearing half off. The armored car lurched away, its front bumper dragging. When the truckreached the paved access road, a shower of sparks lit up the night, trailing the truck as it sped away.
　　Vernet turned his eyes back to the ground where the truck had been parked. Even in the faintmoonlight he could see there was nothing there.
　　The wooden box was gone.
虽然安德烈。韦尔内拿着熗有些不自然，但目光坚定。因此，兰登觉得还是不要冒险试探为妙。
韦尔内从车后用熗指着他们，说道："恐怕我必须坚持要你们这样做。把盒子放下。"
索菲把盒子抱在胸前："你说过你和祖父是朋友。"
韦尔内回答："我有责任保护你祖父的财产。我正在这么做。现在，把盒子放在车上。"
索菲大声说道："可我祖父把这个委托给我保管了！"
韦尔内举熗，命令道："放下。"
索菲把盒子放在脚边。
韦尔内又把熗对准了兰登。
韦尔内说道："兰登先生，把盒子拿过来。注意，我让你拿，是因为我可以毫不犹豫地向你开熗。"兰登看着这位行长，简直不敢相信眼前的一切。"你为什么要这样做？"
韦尔内呵斥道："这还用问吗？"他用法国腔的英语简洁地说。"当然是保护客户的财产。"
索菲说："可我们现在也是你的客户呀。"
韦尔内的脸色骤然变得冷酷无情。"奈芙小姐，我不知道你今晚是如何得到钥匙和账号的，但这里面显然有肮脏的交易。如果我知道你们有这么大的罪过，我才不会带你们离开银行呢。"索菲说道："我告诉过你，我们跟祖父的死无关！"
韦尔内看了看兰登说："可是，为什么收音机里却说通缉你不仅是因为你杀死了雅克。索尼埃，还因为你杀死了其他三个人？"
"什么！"兰登觉得五雷轰顶。还有其他三宗谋杀？这个数字远比知道自己是嫌疑犯更令他震惊。这绝不可能是巧合。"三个人？"兰登看着那个紫檀木盒子，想道。"如果其他三个人也被谋杀了，雅克。索尼埃就别无选择了，他必须得把这个楔石传给别人。"韦尔内说道："我把你送进警察局之后，警察会弄明白的。我已经让我的银行陷得太深了。"索菲盯着韦尔内，说道："你显然没打算把我们送去警察局，否则你会把我们送回银行的。相反，你把我们带到这里，然后用熗指着我们。""你祖父雇佣我就是为了让我保证他的财产安全，并为他保密。因此，不管这个盒子里装的是什么，我都不想让警察拿去调查，成为他们登记在册的证据。兰登先生，把盒子拿过来。"索菲摇着头说道："别拿过去。"
一声熗响，子弹穿过兰登头上的车顶。一个弹壳"哨"的一声掉在了车厢里，回音萦绕着货舱。
"他妈的！"兰登吓得一动也不敢动。
韦尔内更坚定地说："兰登先生，拿起盒子。"
兰登拿起了盒子。
"现在，把盒子拿给我。"韦尔内站在车后，把熗伸进货舱，瞄准兰登的心脏。
兰登把盒子拿在手里，朝车门移动。
"我得做点什么！"兰登想。"眼看就要把隐修会的楔石交出去了！"兰登越朝门口移，他那居高临下的优越位置就越明显。他开始盘算着要怎样利用这个优势。虽然韦尔内举着熗，可是只能够到兰登的膝盖。"也许我可以飞起一脚把熗踢掉？"兰登想。然而，当兰登靠近车门时，韦尔内似乎感觉到了兰登的位置所带来的危险。他向后退了几步，站到了六英尺开外的地方。兰登根本就够不着他了。
韦尔内命令道："把盒子放在门边上。"
兰登已经别无选择，只好蹲下，把紫檀木盒子放在货舱的门口。
"现在，站起来。"
兰登慢慢起身。可是，他突然发现那个弹壳就落在车门边上。他停了下来。
"站起来，离开那个盒子。"
兰登盯着铁门槛，迟疑了一会儿。他慢慢地站了起来，小心地用手把子弹壳拨到了车门边。然后，他站直了身子，向后退去。
"回车厢后面去，脸对着里头！"
兰登照办。
韦尔内能感觉到自己的心脏在剧烈地跳动。他右手握熗，左手伸向那个木盒。可是他发现那个盒子实在太重了。得用两只手！看着他的两个俘虏，他估算了一下风险。他们都在十五英尺之外的货舱那头，而且脸都朝着里头。韦尔内做出了决定。他迅速地把熗放在保险杠上，用双手拿起那个木盒，放在地上，然后飞速地抓起熗，指着货舱里的两个人。
那两个俘虏一动不动。
太棒了。现在要做的只是关上车门，然后锁上。他向前一步，抓住车门，向里推去。
门"砰"的一声关上了。韦尔内迅速地抓住门闩，要把它闩上。门闩滑动了几英寸，突然停了下来。插不动了。怎么回事？韦尔内又向里推了一下，可是门闩就是插不进去。门关不上了。韦尔内慌了，他用力地将门从外往里推，可就是推不动。肯定是有东西把门卡住了！于是韦尔内再次用尽全力将门向里推，这时门却"砰"的一声向外弹开来，狠狠地打在他的脸上，把他击倒在地。他感到鼻子一阵剧痛。韦尔内扔掉熗，捂住脸，一股温热的鲜血从鼻子里汩汩地流了出来。
兰登跳到了韦尔内身旁。韦尔内挣扎着站起来，可是头晕目眩，眼前一片漆黑。"嘭"的一声又摔倒在地，只模模糊糊地听到索菲在喊叫。过了一会儿，他感到头上有尘土和废气在翻腾，听到轮胎轧在沙石上发出的"咔嚓咔嚓""的声响。他挣扎着坐了起来，刚好看到装甲车直直地向前开去。由于两轮之间的轴距太大，装甲车转起弯来特别困难。前保险杠猛的一下碰到了一棵树上，把树顶弯了。保险杠也被顶下了一半。装甲车拖着摇摇欲坠的保险杠向前开去，转上了公路。保险杠与地面摩擦着发出耀眼的火花。最后，装甲车消失在夜幕中。
韦尔内看着原先停车的地方。虽然月光微弱，但他知道那里已经空空如也。
木盒被他们带走了！
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Chapter 50
The unmarked Fiat sedan departing Castel Gandolfo snaked downward through the Alban Hillsinto the valley below. In the back seat, Bishop Aringarosa smiled, feeling the weight of the bearerbonds in the briefcase on his lap and wondering how long it would be before he and the Teachercould make the exchange.
　　Twenty million euro.
　　The sum would buy Aringarosa power far more valuable than that.
　　As his car sped back toward Rome, Aringarosa again found himself wondering why the Teacherhad not yet contacted him. Pulling his cell phone from his cassock pocket, he checked the carriersignal. Extremely faint.
　　"Cell service is intermittent up here," the driver said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "Inabout five minutes, we'll be out of the mountains, and service improves.""Thank you." Aringarosa felt a sudden surge of concern. No service in the mountains? Maybe theTeacher had been trying to reach him all this time. Maybe something had gone terribly wrong.
　　Quickly, Aringarosa checked the phone's voice mail. Nothing. Then again, he realized, the Teachernever would have left a recorded message; he was a man who took enormous care with hiscommunications. Nobody understood better than the Teacher the perils of speaking openly in thismodern world. Electronic eavesdropping had played a major role in how he had gathered hisastonishing array of secret knowledge.
　　For this reason, he takes extra precautions.
　　Unfortunately, the Teacher's protocols for caution included a refusal to give Aringarosa any kind ofcontact number. I alone will initiate contact, the Teacher had informed him. So keep your phoneclose. Now that Aringarosa realized his phone might not have been working properly, he fearedwhat the Teacher might think if he had been repeatedly phoning with no answer.
　　He'll think something is wrong.
　　Or that I failed to get the bonds.
　　The bishop broke a light sweat.
　　Or worse... that I took the money and ran!
没有牌照的菲亚特轿车启程离开了岗道尔夫堡，沿着奥尔本山蜿蜒的盘山公路向山下行驶，进入了山谷。车后座上，阿林加洛沙主教面带微笑，琢磨着还要等多久才能和导师交易，他的膝盖可以感受到公文包里无记名支票的分量。
两千万欧元。
这笔钱能够为阿林加洛沙带来远比其本身更重要的权力。
在飞奔向罗马的车上，阿林加洛沙再次琢磨着为什么导师到现在还没有和他联络。于是他拿出手机来看，发现信号非常微弱。
"在这里，手机的信号总是断断续续的。"司机从后视镜里瞥了他一眼说。"再过五分钟，出了山区，信号就会好了。""谢谢。"阿林加洛沙突然担忧起来：山区没有信号？也许导师一直在试图联系他，也许出什么大乱子了。
阿林加洛沙迅速地检查了语音信箱，结果一无所获。他这才想起导师根本就不可能给他留下什么信息记录。导师是一个对通讯交流极为谨慎的人，他深谙在现代化社会中口无遮拦的危险性。他之所以能收集到令人惊讶的秘密信息，电子窃听功不可没。
因此，他总是格外警惕。
不幸的是，不留联系电话给阿林加洛沙正是导师的防范措施之一。我会主动联系你的，导师曾经告诉过他。所以把你的手机带在身边。当阿林加洛沙发现他的手机可能无法接通时，他真担心导师会误以为他一直不接听电话。
他可能会以为出了什么事。
也许会以为我没有弄到支票。
主教出了一身冷汗。
或许更糟……他可能认为我卷了钱跑了！
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Chapter  51
Even at a modest sixty kilometers an hour, the dangling front bumper of the armored truck gratedagainst the deserted suburban road with a grinding roar, spraying sparks up onto the hood.
　　We've got to get off the road, Langdon thought.
　　He could barely even see where they were headed. The truck's lone working headlight had beenknocked off-center and was casting a skewed sidelong beam into the woods beside the countryhighway. Apparently the armor in this "armored truck" referred only to the cargo hold and not thefront end.
　　Sophie sat in the passenger seat, staring blankly at the rosewood box on her lap.
　　"Are you okay?" Langdon asked.
　　Sophie looked shaken. "Do you believe him?""About the three additional murders? Absolutely. It answers a lot of questions—the issue of yourgrandfather's desperation to pass on the keystone, as well as the intensity with which Fache ishunting me.""No, I meant about Vernet trying to protect his bank."Langdon glanced over. "As opposed to?""Taking the keystone for himself."Langdon had not even considered it. "How would he even know what this box contains?""His bank stored it. He knew my grandfather. Maybe he knew things. He might have decided hewanted the Grail for himself."Langdon shook his head. Vernet hardly seemed the type. "In my experience, there are only tworeasons people seek the Grail. Either they are naive and believe they are searching for the long-lostCup of Christ...""Or?""Or they know the truth and are threatened by it. Many groups throughout history have sought todestroy the Grail."The silence between them accentuated the sound of the scraping bumper. They had driven a fewkilometers now, and as Langdon watched the cascade of sparks coming off the front of the truck,he wondered if it was dangerous. Either way, if they passed another car, it would certainly drawattention. Langdon made up his mind.
　　"I'm going to see if I can bend this bumper back."Pulling onto the shoulder, he brought the truck to a stop.
　　Silence at last.
　　As Langdon walked toward the front of the truck, he felt surprisingly alert. Staring into the barrelof yet another gun tonight had given him a second wind. He took a deep breath of nighttime air andtried to get his wits about him. Accompanying the gravity of being a hunted man, Langdon wasstarting to feel the ponderous weight of responsibility, the prospect that he and Sophie mightactually be holding an encrypted set of directions to one of the most enduring mysteries of all time.
　　As if this burden were not great enough, Langdon now realized that any possibility of finding away to return the keystone to the Priory had just evaporated. News of the three additional murdershad dire implications. The Priory has been infiltrated. They are compromised. The brotherhoodwas obviously being watched, or there was a mole within the ranks. It seemed to explain whySaunière might have transferred the keystone to Sophie and Langdon—people outside thebrotherhood, people he knew were not compromised. We can't very well give the keystone back tothe brotherhood. Even if Langdon had any idea how to find a Priory member, chances were goodthat whoever stepped forward to take the keystone could be the enemy himself. For the moment, atleast, it seemed the keystone was in Sophie and Langdon's hands, whether they wanted it or not.
　　The truck's front end looked worse than Langdon had imagined. The left headlight was gone, andthe right one looked like an eyeball dangling from its socket. Langdon straightened it, and itdislodged again. The only good news was that the front bumper had been torn almost clean off.
　　Langdon gave it a hard kick and sensed he might be able to break it off entirely.
　　As he repeatedly kicked the twisted metal, Langdon recalled his earlier conversation with Sophie.
　　My grandfather left me a phone message, Sophie had told him. He said he needed to tell me thetruth about my family. At the time it had meant nothing, but now, knowing the Priory of Sion wasinvolved, Langdon felt a startling new possibility emerge.
　　The bumper broke off suddenly with a crash. Langdon paused to catch his breath. At least the truckwould no longer look like a Fourth of July sparkler. He grabbed the bumper and began dragging itout of sight into the woods, wondering where they should go next. They had no idea how to openthe cryptex, or why Saunière had given it to them. Unfortunately, their survival tonight seemed todepend on getting answers to those very questions.
　　We need help, Langdon decided. Professional help.
　　In the world of the Holy Grail and the Priory of Sion, that meant only one man. The challenge, ofcourse, would be selling the idea to Sophie.
　　Inside the armored car, while Sophie waited for Langdon to return, she could feel the weight of therosewood box on her lap and resented it. Why did my grandfather give this to me? She had not theslightest idea what to do with it.
　　Think, Sophie! Use your head. Grand-père is trying to tell you something!
　　Opening the box, she eyed the cryptex's dials. A proof of merit. She could feel her grandfather'shand at work. The keystone is a map that can be followed only by the worthy. It sounded like hergrandfather to the core.
　　Lifting the cryptex out of the box, Sophie ran her fingers over the dials. Five letters. She rotated thedials one by one. The mechanism moved smoothly. She aligned the disks such that her chosenletters lined up between the cryptex's two brass alignment arrows on either end of the cylinder. Thedials now spelled a five-letter word that Sophie knew was absurdly obvious.
　　G-R-A-I-L.
　　Gently, she held the two ends of the cylinder and pulled, applying pressure slowly. The cryptexdidn't budge. She heard the vinegar inside gurgle and stopped pulling. Then she tried again.
　　V-I-N-C-IAgain, no movement.
　　V-O-U-T-ENothing. The cryptex remained locked solid.
　　Frowning, she replaced it in the rosewood box and closed the lid. Looking outside at Langdon,Sophie felt grateful he was with her tonight. P.S. Find Robert Langdon. Her grandfather's rationalefor including him was now clear. Sophie was not equipped to understand her grandfather'sintentions, and so he had assigned Robert Langdon as her guide. A tutor to oversee her education.
　　Unfortunately for Langdon, he had turned out to be far more than a tutor tonight. He had becomethe target of Bezu Fache... and some unseen force intent on possessing the Holy Grail.
　　Whatever the Grail turns out to be.
　　Sophie wondered if finding out was worth her life.
　　As the armored truck accelerated again, Langdon was pleased how much more smoothly it drove.
　　"Do you know how to get to Versailles?"Sophie eyed him. "Sightseeing?""No, I have a plan. There's a religious historian I know who lives near Versailles. I can't rememberexactly where, but we can look it up. I've been to his estate a few times. His name is LeighTeabing. He's a former British Royal Historian.""And he lives in Paris?""Teabing's life passion is the Grail. When whisperings of the Priory keystone surfaced about fifteenyears ago, he moved to France to search churches in hopes of finding it. He's written some bookson the keystone and the Grail. He may be able to help us figure out how to open it and what to dowith it."Sophie's eyes were wary. "Can you trust him?""Trust him to what? Not steal the information?""And not to turn us in.""I don't intend to tell him we're wanted by the police. I'm hoping he'll take us in until we can sortall this out.""Robert, has it occurred to you that every television in France is probably getting ready tobroadcast our pictures? Bezu Fache always uses the media to his advantage. He'll make itimpossible for us to move around without being recognized."Terrific, Langdon thought. My French TV debut will be on "Paris's Most Wanted." At least JonasFaukman would be pleased; every time Langdon made the news, his book sales jumped.
　　"Is this man a good enough friend?" Sophie asked.
　　Langdon doubted Teabing was someone who watched television, especially at this hour, but stillthe question deserved consideration. Instinct told Langdon that Teabing would be totallytrustworthy. An ideal safe harbor. Considering the circumstances, Teabing would probably tripover himself to help them as much as possible. Not only did he owe Langdon a favor, but Teabingwas a Grail researcher, and Sophie claimed her grandfather was the actual Grand Master of thePriory of Sion. If Teabing heard that, he would salivate at the thought of helping them figure thisout.
　　"Teabing could be a powerful ally," Langdon said. Depending on how much you want to tell him.
　　"Fache probably will be offering a monetary reward."Langdon laughed. "Believe me, money is the last thing this guy needs." Leigh Teabing waswealthy in the way small countries were wealthy. A descendant of Britain's First Duke ofLancaster, Teabing had gotten his money the old-fashioned way—he'd inherited it. His estateoutside of Paris was a seventeenth-century palace with two private lakes.
　　Langdon had first met Teabing several years ago through the British Broadcasting Corporation.
　　Teabing had approached the BBC with a proposal for a historical documentary in which he wouldexpose the explosive history of the Holy Grail to a mainstream television audience. The BBCproducers loved Teabing's hot premise, his research, and his credentials, but they had concerns thatthe concept was so shocking and hard to swallow that the network might end up tarnishing itsreputation for quality journalism. At Teabing's suggestion, the BBC solved its credibility fears bysoliciting three cameos from respected historians from around the world, all of whom corroboratedthe stunning nature of the Holy Grail secret with their own research.
　　Langdon had been among those chosen.
　　The BBC had flown Langdon to Teabing's Paris estate for the filming. He sat before cameras inTeabing's opulent drawing room and shared his story, admitting his initial skepticism on hearing ofthe alternate Holy Grail story, then describing how years of research had persuaded him that thestory was true. Finally, Langdon offered some of his own research—a series of symbologicconnections that strongly supported the seemingly controversial claims.
　　When the program aired in Britain, despite its ensemble cast and well-documented evidence, thepremise rubbed so hard against the grain of popular Christian thought that it instantly confronted afirestorm of hostility. It never aired in the States, but the repercussions echoed across the Atlantic.
　　Shortly afterward, Langdon received a postcard from an old friend—the Catholic Bishop ofPhiladelphia. The card simply read: Et tu, Robert?
　　"Robert," Sophie asked, "you're certain we can trust this man?""Absolutely. We're colleagues, he doesn't need money, and I happen to know he despises theFrench authorities. The French government taxes him at absurd rates because he bought a historiclandmark. He'll be in no hurry to cooperate with Fache."Sophie stared out at the dark roadway. "If we go to him, how much do you want to tell him?"Langdon looked unconcerned. "Believe me, Leigh Teabing knows more about the Priory of Sionand the Holy Grail than anyone on earth."Sophie eyed him. "More than my grandfather?""I meant more than anyone outside the brotherhood.""How do you know Teabing isn't a member of the brotherhood?""Teabing has spent his life trying to broadcast the truth about the Holy Grail. The Priory's oath is tokeep its true nature hidden.""Sounds to me like a conflict of interest."Langdon understood her concerns. Saunière had given the cryptex directly to Sophie, and althoughshe didn't know what it contained or what she was supposed to do with it, she was hesitant toinvolve a total stranger. Considering the information potentially enclosed, the instinct was probablya good one. "We don't need to tell Teabing about the keystone immediately. Or at all, even. Hishouse will give us a place to hide and think, and maybe when we talk to him about the Grail, you'llstart to have an idea why your grandfather gave this to you.""Us," Sophie reminded.
　　Langdon felt a humble pride and wondered yet again why Saunière had included him.
　　"Do you know more or less where Mr. Teabing lives?" Sophie asked.
　　"His estate is called Chateau Villette."Sophie turned with an incredulous look. "The Chateau Villette?""That's the one.""Nice friends.""You know the estate?""I've passed it. It's in the castle district. Twenty minutes from here."Langdon frowned. "That far?""Yes, which will give you enough time to tell me what the Holy Grail really is."Langdon paused. "I'll tell you at Teabing's. He and I specialize in different areas of the legend, sobetween the two of us, you'll get the full story." Langdon smiled. "Besides, the Grail has beenTeabing's life, and hearing the story of the Holy Grail from Leigh Teabing will be like hearing thetheory of relativity from Einstein himself.""Let's hope Leigh doesn't mind late-night visitors.""For the record, it's Sir Leigh." Langdon had made that mistake only once. "Teabing is quite acharacter. He was knighted by the Queen several years back after composing an extensive historyon the House of York."Sophie looked over. "You're kidding, right? We're going to visit a knight?"Langdon gave an awkward smile. "We're on a Grail quest, Sophie. Who better to help us than aknight?"
就算只以60 公里的时速前行，装甲车上摇摇欲坠的保险杠在沙土路面上拖行，还是摩擦出了巨大的声响，擦出的火花不断飞溅到引擎盖上。
我们必须离开这条路，兰登寻思道。
他甚至看不清前进的方向。装甲车那唯一能亮的车头灯被撞歪了，一条横梁也飞进了乡村公路边的树林里。显然，这辆车所谓的"装甲"指的不过是货舱而并非车头。
索菲坐在乘客席上，面无表情地看着膝上的木盒。
"你没事吧？"兰登问道。
索菲看起来有些动摇："你相信他么？"
"你指的是另外三宗谋杀？当然。这解释了很多事情--为什么你祖父拼命要将楔石传下来，为什么法希要极力追捕我。""不，我指的是韦尔内竭力要保全他的银行。"
兰登瞥了索菲一眼："而不是……？"
"把楔石据为已有。"
兰登根本没有考虑这个问题："他怎么可能知道这盒子里装的到底是什么呢？"
"楔石被保存在他的银行，他认识祖父，也许他知道些什么，可能他下定决心一定要把圣杯搞到手。"兰登摇了摇头。韦尔内不像这种人。"依我看，人们寻找圣杯只有两个原因：不是他们幼稚地以为自己正在追寻遗失已久的耶稣用过的杯子……""就是？"
"就是他们了解真相，并因此受到威胁。历史上有很多组织曾经寻找并试图销毁圣杯。"
车内的沉默使破保险杠发出的摩擦声更响了。现在他们已经开出了好几公里。兰登看着那瀑布般溅落在车头的火花，担心那会给行驶造成危险。再说，这一定会引起过往车辆的注意。于是兰登打定子主意。
"我下去看看能不能把保险杠扳回原位。"
他把车靠边，开进一个车站。
噪音终于消失了。
兰登走向车头时极其警觉。现在，他不用再盯着熗管，终于能够自由地呼吸了。他深吸了一口夜晚的空气，让头脑恢复清醒。他不仅背负着被迫捕的压力，也开始感到一份沉甸甸的责任。他和索菲的命运将与一个历史上最重要的秘密联系在一起。
兰登感到肩头的担子沉重，因为他知道他们不能再将楔石送还隐修会了。另外三个人遇害的消息说明已经有外人打人了隐修会内部，他们妥协了。显然，隐修会的成员被人监视着，要么就是组织里混进了奸细。看来这就是索尼埃把楔石交给索菲和兰登的原因--他们不是隐修会的成员，他们是不会妥协的人。把楔石交还给隐修会是不妥当的。即使兰登有办法找到隐修会的成员，但很有可能来拿楔石的人恰恰就是敌人。至少现在，不管索菲和兰登想不想要，楔石还在他们手里。
装甲车的车头看上去比兰登想象的还要糟。左边的车头灯已经不见了，右边的那个就像在眼窝里晃荡的眼球。兰登把它塞回原处，它又滚落出来，唯一让人高兴的就是前保险杠就快要掉下来了。兰登飞起一脚，想把它踢掉。
他一边踹那块扭曲的金属，一边回忆着和索菲的谈话。索菲曾告诉他。"祖父在电话中给我留言，说他要告诉我关于我家庭的真相"。这句话在当时听来似乎毫无意义，但现在，当了解到郇山隐修会与此有关之后，兰登想出了一种令人吃惊的可能性。
前保险杠完全脱落了下来。兰登喘了口气。至少这辆车不会再好像燃放国庆节的烟花了。他拎起那条保险杠，把它拖到树林的隐蔽处，盘算着接下来的去向。他们不知道如何打开密码筒，也不知道为什么索尼埃会把这个交给他们。但不幸的是，他们今晚的生死存亡就取决于能否找到这些问题的答案。
兰登想道：我们需要专业的帮助。
在圣杯与郇山隐修会的研究领域，只有一个人可以帮上这个忙了。当然，最麻烦的问题是首先必须要说服索菲。
索菲呆在货舱里等着兰登，她感到膝盖上的紫檀木盒子沉沉的，对它心生厌恶。为什么祖父要给我这个？她百思不得其解。
思考，索菲！动动脑筋。祖父想告诉你什么？
索菲打开盒子，取出密码筒，仔细端详。她甚至可以感触到祖父制作密码筒的双手。
楔石是一个只有杰出的人才能读懂的地图。祖父就是那样一个"杰出的人"。
索菲抚摸着转筒。五个字母。石盘在她手中流畅地转动着。她把五个字母对准了石筒两端的铜箭头。这一举动看似荒谬，那五个字母组成了一个单词。
G-R-A-I-L.
她轻轻地抓着圆柱体的两端往外拉。密码筒一动不动。她听见筒内响起醋的流动声，于是停了下来。她又试了一次。
V-I-N-C-I.
还是没有动静。
V-O-U-T-E.
密码筒依旧紧锁。
她皱着眉头把密码筒放回盒里。看着车外的兰登，索菲很感激他能够陪伴自己。附言：去找罗伯特。兰登。祖父要把他也拉进来的原因已经很清楚了。索菲还不知如何理解祖父的意图，因此祖父指定罗伯特。兰登做她的向导。一个全面指导她的老师。不幸的是，对兰登来说，他今晚可远远不止是老师，他变成了贝祖。法希的猎物……而且还有某些未知势力也在企图夺取圣杯。
圣杯到底是什么？
索菲怀疑最终的发现是否值得他们牺牲性命。
装甲车再次上路了。兰登觉得心情舒畅，因为驾驶变得轻松多了。"你认识去凡尔赛的路吗？"
索菲看着他："观光？"
"不，我有个计划。我认识的一个宗教史学家住在凡尔赛附近。虽然我不记得具体的地址，但是我们可以去找找，我曾经去过他的庄园几次。他叫雷。提彬，是前英国皇家历史学家。""他住在巴黎？"
"提彬的生活激情就来自于圣杯。十五年前当隐修会楔石现身的传说散布开来时，他搬到法国，希望能够在教堂里找到圣杯。他也写过一些关于楔石和圣杯的书。也许他可以帮助我们打开这个密码筒并且告诉我们如何处置它。"索菲的眼神中充满警惕："你信任他么？"
"相信他什么？不会盗窃信息？"
"而且不会把我们交出去。"
"我并不打算告诉他我们正被警方通缉。我希望他会收留我们直到真相大白。"
"罗伯特，不要忘了，法国的每一台电视机都可能正在播出咱们的照片。贝祖。法希经常利用媒体，他会让我们寸步难行。"太棒了，兰登想。我的荧屏处女秀就要献给"巴黎通缉犯"节目了。至少琼纳斯。福克曼要幸灾乐祸了：每次兰登弄出什么新闻来，他的书一定会卖疯的。
"他真的是靠得住的朋友吗？"索菲问。
兰登也拿不准提彬是不是会看电视，特别是在这个时段，不过直觉告诉兰登，提彬是完全值得信任的。一个理想的避风港。鉴于当前的情况，提彬应该会全力帮助他们的。这不仅是因为他欠兰登一个人情，而且也因为提彬是一个执着的圣杯研究者。索菲声称她祖父是郇山隐修会的掌门人，而提彬一旦知道这些，定会渴望帮助他们揭开谜底。
"提彬将会是一个有力的盟友。"兰登说。"不过，这还要看你打算告诉他多少实情。"
"法希很可能会悬赏。"
兰登笑了。"相信我，钱对此人来说是最次要的需求。"雷。提彬富可敌国，作为英国兰卡斯特公爵一世的后代，提彬用传统的方法--继承--获得了钱财。他在巴黎郊外的庄园是一座拥有两个私人湖泊的十七世纪宫殿。
兰登是在几年前通过BBC 第一次见到提彬的。提彬找到BBC，想通过主流媒体向人们揭示一段关于圣杯的爆炸性历史事实。BBC 的制片人对提彬的假设、研究和证据都非常感兴趣，但是他认为这些观点实在太令人难以接受，担心节目会影响广播网在新闻界的盛名。在提彬的建议下，BBC 恳请世界各地的著名历史学家帮助解决信任危机，请他们通过各自的研究证实那则令人震惊的圣杯秘密。
兰登就是被选中的学者之一。
BBC 曾经让兰登飞去提彬的庄园协助拍摄。他在提彬富丽堂皇的画室里面对着摄像机讲述他的观点，从他对圣杯故事的怀疑讲到数年来自己对这个问题的研究。最后，兰登提供了一些自己的研究成果--一系列象征性的联系有力地支持了提彬的主张。
虽然这个节目在英国拍摄时排出了强大的拍摄阵容并提供了充分的证据，可还是由于它跟大多数基督徒的看法有激烈冲突而招致了强烈的不满。这个节目没有在大西洋彼岸的美国播出，可却也在那里引起了强烈的反响。节目在英国播出后不久，兰登接到了来自老朋友、费城基督教主教的一张明信片。上面简单地写道："是你干的吗，罗伯特？"
"罗伯特。"索菲问道。"你肯定那个人值得信任吗？"
"绝对肯定。我们是朋友，而且他不缺钱。碰巧，他很讨厌法国政府。法国政府向他征收高得出奇的地皮税，理由是他买的那块地是著名的风景区。他绝对不会和法希合作的。"索菲望着车窗外漆黑的公路，问道："要是我们去找他的话，你打算告诉他多少情况呢？"
兰登满不在乎地说："相信我，关于隐修会和圣杯，雷。提彬知道得比世界上任何人都多。"索菲看着他问道："比祖父知道得多吗？"
"我是说比隐修会之外的人知道得多。"
"那你怎么知道提彬不是隐修会的人呢？"
"提彬一生都在试图告诉人们圣杯的真相。而隐修会则是要隐藏圣杯的实质。"
"听上去似乎有利益上的冲突。"
兰登明白她的担忧。索尼埃把密码筒交给了索菲，虽然索菲不知道里面装着什么，也不知道如何处置它，可她不会情愿把一个陌生人牵扯到这件事里来。密码筒里可能隐藏着重大秘密，凭直觉办事也许没错。"我们不需要马上告诉提彬关于楔石的事。或者根本就不告诉他。我们可以藏在他家，同时也可以好好思考一下。也许当我们跟他谈论圣杯的时候。你能搞明白祖父把楔石交给你的原因呢。""祖父是把它交给了你和我。"索菲提醒道。
兰登感到有些自豪，不过也再一次为索尼埃把他牵扯进来而大惑不解。
"你应该对提彬先生的住处有所了解吧？"索菲问道。
"他住的地方叫维莱特庄园。"
索菲以怀疑的眼光看着他："你是说那曾是皇室的维莱特庄园吗？"
"正是。"
"那他可是个友善的人啊。"
"你知道那个地方？"
"我以前从那里经过。在城堡区。离这里有20 分钟的路程。"
兰登皱着眉头问道："这么远啊？"
"是啊。不过这正好可以让你有足够的时间来告诉我圣杯到底是什么。"
兰登停了一下，说道："我会在提彬的住处告诉你的。他和我对圣杯的研究各有专攻，因此如果同时听我们两人讲，你会了解得更加全面。"兰登微笑着继续说道："另外，圣杯就是提彬的命根子。他会把圣杯的故事讲得精彩无比，就像爱因斯坦讲相对论一样。""希望雷不会介意我们在深夜拜访他。"
"他可是正宗的"雷爵士"。"兰登很清楚。"提彬是个有个性的人。他是在写了一本详尽的约克家族史后被英国女王封为爵士的。"索菲直视着他。"你在开玩笑吧？我们要去拜访一位爵士？"
兰登尴尬地笑了一下，说道："我们在寻找圣杯，索菲。还有谁能比一位爵士能为我们提供更多的帮助呢？"
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Chapter 52
The Sprawling 185-acre estate of Chateau Villette was located twenty-five minutes northwest ofParis in the environs of Versailles. Designed by Fran.ois Mansart in 1668 for the Count of Aufflay,it was one of Paris's most significant historical chateaux. Complete with two rectangular lakes andgardens designed by Le N.tre, Chateau Villette was more of a modest castle than a mansion. Theestate fondly had become known as la Petite Versailles.
　　Langdon brought the armored truck to a shuddering stop at the foot of the mile-long driveway.
　　Beyond the imposing security gate, Sir Leigh Teabing's residence rose on a meadow in thedistance. The sign on the gate was in English: PRIVATE PROPERTY. NO TRESPASSING.
　　As if to proclaim his home a British Isle unto itself, Teabing had not only posted his signs inEnglish, but he had installed his gate's intercom entry system on the right-hand side of thetruck—the passenger's side everywhere in Europe except England.
　　Sophie gave the misplaced intercom an odd look. "And if someone arrives without a passenger?""Don't ask." Langdon had already been through that with Teabing. "He prefers things the way theyare at home."Sophie rolled down her window. "Robert, you'd better do the talking."Langdon shifted his position, leaning out across Sophie to press the intercom button. As he did, analluring whiff of Sophie's perfume filled his nostrils, and he realized how close they were. Hewaited there, awkwardly prone, while a telephone began ringing over the small speaker.
　　Finally, the intercom crackled and an irritated French accent spoke. "Chateau Villette. Who iscalling?""This is Robert Langdon," Langdon called out, sprawled across Sophie's lap. "I'm a friend of SirLeigh Teabing. I need his help.""My master is sleeping. As was I. What is your business with him?""It is a private matter. One of great interest to him.""Then I'm sure he will be pleased to receive you in the morning."Langdon shifted his weight. "It's quite important.""As is Sir Leigh's sleep. If you are a friend, then you are aware he is in poor health."Sir Leigh Teabing had suffered from polio as a child and now wore leg braces and walked withcrutches, but Langdon had found him such a lively and colorful man on his last visit that it hardlyseemed an infirmity. "If you would, please tell him I have uncovered new information about theGrail. Information that cannot wait until morning."There was a long pause.
　　Langdon and Sophie waited, the truck idling loudly.
　　A full minute passed.
　　Finally, someone spoke. "My good man, I daresay you are still on Harvard Standard Time." Thevoice was crisp and light.
　　Langdon grinned, recognizing the thick British accent. "Leigh, my apologies for waking you at thisobscene hour.""My manservant tells me that not only are you in Paris, but you speak of the Grail.""I thought that might get you out of bed.""And so it has.""Any chance you'd open the gate for an old friend?""Those who seek the truth are more than friends. They are brothers."Langdon rolled his eyes at Sophie, well accustomed to Teabing's predilection for dramatic antics.
　　"Indeed I will open the gate," Teabing proclaimed, "but first I must confirm your heart is true. Atest of your honor. You will answer three questions."Langdon groaned, whispering at Sophie. "Bear with me here. As I mentioned, he's something of acharacter.""Your first question," Teabing declared, his tone Herculean. "Shall I serve you coffee, or tea?"Langdon knew Teabing's feelings about the American phenomenon of coffee. "Tea," he replied.
　　"Earl Grey.""Excellent. Your second question. Milk or sugar?"Langdon hesitated.
　　"Milk," Sophie whispered in his ear. "I think the British take milk.""Milk," Langdon said.
　　Silence.
　　"Sugar?"Teabing made no reply.
　　Wait! Langdon now recalled the bitter beverage he had been served on his last visit and realizedthis question was a trick. "Lemon!" he declared. "Earl Grey with lemon""Indeed." Teabing sounded deeply amused now. "And finally, I must make the most grave ofinquiries." Teabing paused and then spoke in a solemn tone. "In which year did a Harvard scullerlast outrow an Oxford man at Henley?"Langdon had no idea, but he could imagine only one reason the question had been asked. "Surelysuch a travesty has never occurred."The gate clicked open. "Your heart is true, my friend. You may pass."
维莱特庄园位于凡尔赛近郊，占地185 公顷，从巴黎驱车25 分钟就可以到达。它最早是由弗兰西斯。曼萨特于1668 年为奥弗提伯爵设计的，是巴黎附近的历史名址之一。维莱特庄园里有两个四边形的湖泊和众多的花园，这些都是勒。瑙特设计的。与其说这座庄园看上去像座大厦，倒不如说它像个现代化的城堡。
兰登把车停在长达一英里的车道前。透过那扇气派的防盗大门，可以看到远处草坪边上雷。提彬爵士居住的那座城堡。门上的告示牌用英语写着："私人领地，非请勿入。"
为了表明这是英国人的领地，提彬不仅在告示牌上写上英语，还把对讲电话安装在了车辆的右侧。除了英国，在整个欧洲那可是乘客坐的方位。
索菲诧异地看了看对讲电话，问道："要是有人没带乘客怎么办？"
"别管这么多了。"兰登很熟悉提彬那套我行我素的做法。"他喜欢按英国的规矩行事。"
索菲摇下车窗："罗伯特，最好由你来叫门。"
兰登从索菲的身前倾过身子，去按对讲电话的按钮。这时，他闻到了索菲身上诱人的香水味，突然意识到他们俩已紧紧地靠在了一起。他尴尬地等在那儿，听对讲机不停地振铃。
最后，对讲机里终于传来"咔嗒"一声，接着传出带法国口音的声音："这里是维莱特庄园。是谁在按铃？"
"我是罗伯特。兰登。"兰登俯在索菲的膝盖上，答道："我是雷。提彬爵士的朋友。我需要他的帮助。""主人正在睡觉。我也是。你找他有什么事？"
"有点私事。他会非常感兴趣的。"
"那么，我敢肯定他会非常愉快地在早上会见您。"
兰登变换了一个姿势，坚持道："这件事非常重要，我需要马上见他。"
"可是雷爵士正在睡觉。如果您是他朋友，您应该知道他身体不好，经不起折腾。"
雷。提彬爵士小时候得过脑灰质炎，现在腿上还绑着矫形器，走路得用拐杖。可是兰登上次见他时，发现他是那么活泼风趣，一点也不像有病的样子。"如果可以，请告诉他我找到了有关圣杯的新线索。非常紧急，不能等到早上。"接下来就是一片沉寂。
兰登和索菲等在那里，耳边只有装甲车发动机的隆隆响声。
足足过了一分钟。
终于对讲机那头传来了清脆而温和说话声。"好家伙，我敢说你现在还在按照美国哈佛大学的标准时间来行事呢。"兰登听出话里浓重的英国口音，笑了起来。"雷，非常抱歉在这个不合适的时间把你吵醒。""我的男佣告诉我你不仅来到了巴黎，而且还带来了圣杯的消息。"
"我想那样会把你从床上喊起来。"
"不错。"
"能为老朋友开开门吗？"
"寻求真理的人不仅仅是朋友，而且是兄弟。"
兰登看了看索菲。提彬喜欢用戏剧里的古怪台词，这一点他早就习惯了。
"我会打开大门的。"提彬宣称道。"但是首先我得确认你的心是否真诚。为了测试一下你的道义，你得回答三个问题。"兰登叹了一口气，在索菲的耳边低声说道："请忍耐一会儿。我跟你说过，他是个有个性的人。"
这时，提彬大声说道："第一个问题。你是要喝茶还是咖啡？"
兰登知道提彬讨厌美国人喝咖啡的习惯，于是说道："茶，而且是伯爵红茶。"
"很好。第二个问题。要加牛奶还是糖？"
兰登犹豫了一下。
"牛奶。"索菲低声说。"我想英国人喜欢加牛奶。"
"牛奶。"兰登答道。
沉默。
"要不，就加糖吧？"
提彬仍旧没有回答。
等一下。兰登突然想起了上次来访时喝的苦茶，意识到这个问题是个圈套。"柠檬！"他大声说道："伯爵红茶加柠檬。"
"好的。"提彬听起来非常开心。"我要问最后一个非常严肃的问题。"提彬停顿了一下，然后用庄重的语气问："哈佛大学的划桨手，于哪一年在英国亨利市举办的划船比赛中胜过了牛津的划桨手？"
兰登对此一无所知，但他却非常明了提彬提出这个问题的原因。于是，他答道："这种滑稽事从来就没有发生过。"大门"嗒"的一声打开了。"你有一颗真诚的心，我的朋友。你可以进来了。"
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Chapter 53
"Monsieur Vernet!" The night manager of the Depository Bank of Zurich felt relieved to hear thebank president's voice on the phone. "Where did you go, sir? The police are here, everyone iswaiting for you!""I have a little problem," the bank president said, sounding distressed. "I need your help rightaway."You have more than a little problem, the manager thought. The police had entirely surrounded thebank and were threatening to have the DCPJ captain himself show up with the warrant the bankhad demanded. "How can I help you, sir?""Armored truck number three. I need to find it."Puzzled, the manager checked his delivery schedule. "It's here. Downstairs at the loading dock.""Actually, no. The truck was stolen by the two individuals the police are tracking.""What? How did they drive out?""I can't go into the specifics on the phone, but we have a situation here that could potentially beextremely unfortunate for the bank.""What do you need me to do, sir?""I'd like you to activate the truck's emergency transponder."The night manager's eyes moved to the LoJack control box across the room. Like many armoredcars, each of the bank's trucks had been equipped with a radio-controlled homing device, whichcould be activated remotely from the bank. The manager had only used the emergency systemonce, after a hijacking, and it had worked flawlessly—locating the truck and transmitting thecoordinates to the authorities automatically. Tonight, however, the manager had the impression thepresident was hoping for a bit more prudence. "Sir, you are aware that if I activate the LoJacksystem, the transponder will simultaneously inform the authorities that we have a problem."Vernet was silent for several seconds. "Yes, I know. Do it anyway. Truck number three. I'll hold. Ineed the exact location of that truck the instant you have it.""Right away, sir."Thirty seconds later, forty kilometers away, hidden in the undercarriage of the armored truck, a tinytransponder blinked to life.
银行夜间值班经理听到行长的声音从电话中传来，长吁了一口气。"韦尔内先生！您到哪儿去了？警察来了，大家都在等您呢！""我碰到个小问题。"行长有些哀伤地说道。"我现在急需你的帮助。"
你的问题可不小，经理想。警察已经把银行包围了，并威胁说会让警署上尉亲自把银行搜查令带来。"您要我怎样帮您，先生？"
"三号装甲车不见了。我得找到它。"
经理疑惑地核对了一下发货时刻表。"它在这里呀。就在地下装货台。"
"实际上不在。那辆车被警察正在追捕的人偷走了。"
"什么？他们是怎么开走的？"
"电话里说不清楚，但这件事有可能会对我们银行造成非常不利的影响。"
"那您要我做什么呢？先生。"
"你启动那辆车的紧急雷达监视器。"
经理看着对面墙边上的控制箱。跟其他装甲车一样，这家银行的装甲车也安装了无线电控制的自动导引装置，这个装置可以由银行自动开启。这位经理只在银行遭到抢劫后用过一次这个紧急启动系统。那次，系统情况运转良好，很快地找到了那辆车，并自动把车的方位报告给了警方。可是今晚，经理觉得行长理应更谨慎一点。"先生，您要知道，如果我启动了自动搜索系统，那个雷达监视器就会自动通知警方我们这里出了事。"韦尔内沉默了一会儿，然后说道："是的，我知道。开吧。三号车。我不挂电话。发现那辆车的确切位置就马上告诉我。""我马上启动，先生。"
三十秒钟之后，四十公里外，一辆装甲车下的小雷达启动了。
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Chapter 54
As Langdon and Sophie drove the armored truck up the winding, poplar-lined driveway toward thehouse, Sophie could already feel her muscles relaxing. It was a relief to be off the road, and shecould think of few safer places to get their feet under them than this private, gated estate owned bya good-natured foreigner.
　　They turned into the sweeping circular driveway, and Chateau Villette came into view on theirright. Three stories tall and at least sixty meters long, the edifice had gray stone facing illuminatedby outside spotlights. The coarse facade stood in stark juxtaposition to the immaculatelylandscaped gardens and glassy pond.
　　The inside lights were just now coming on.
　　Rather than driving to the front door, Langdon pulled into a parking area nestled in the evergreens.
　　"No reason to risk being spotted from the road," he said. "Or having Leigh wonder why we arrivedin a wrecked armored truck."Sophie nodded. "What do we do with the cryptex? We probably shouldn't leave it out here, but ifLeigh sees it, he'll certainly want to know what it is.""Not to worry," Langdon said, removing his jacket as he stepped out of the car. He wrapped thetweed coat around the box and held the bundle in his arms like a baby.
　　Sophie looked dubious. "Subtle.""Teabing never answers his own door; he prefers to make an entrance. I'll find somewhere inside tostash this before he joins us." Langdon paused. "Actually, I should probably warn you before youmeet him. Sir Leigh has a sense of humor that people often find a bit... strange."Sophie doubted anything tonight would strike her as strange anymore.
　　The pathway to the main entrance was hand-laid cobblestone. It curved to a door of carved oak andcherry with a brass knocker the size of a grapefruit. Before Sophie could grasp the knocker, thedoor swung open from within.
　　A prim and elegant butler stood before them, making final adjustments on the white tie and tuxedohe had apparently just donned. He looked to be about fifty, with refined features and an austereexpression that left little doubt he was unamused by their presence here.
　　"Sir Leigh will be down presently," he declared, his accent thick French. "He is dressing. Heprefers not to greet visitors while wearing only a nightshirt. May I take your coat?" He scowled atthe bunched-up tweed in Langdon's arms.
　　"Thank you, I'm fine.""Of course you are. Right this way, please."The butler guided them through a lush marble foyer into an exquisitely adorned drawing room,softly lit by tassel-draped Victorian lamps. The air inside smelled antediluvian, regal somehow,with traces of pipe tobacco, tea leaves, cooking sherry, and the earthen aroma of stone architecture.
　　Against the far wall, flanked between two glistening suits of chain mail armor, was a rough-hewnfireplace large enough to roast an ox. Walking to the hearth, the butler knelt and touched a match toa pre-laid arrangement of oak logs and kindling. A fire quickly crackled to life.
　　The man stood, straightening his jacket. "His master requests that you make yourselves at home."With that, he departed, leaving Langdon and Sophie alone.
　　Sophie wondered which of the fireside antiques she was supposed to sit on—the Renaissancevelvet divan, the rustic eagle-claw rocker, or the pair of stone pews that looked like they'd beenlifted from some Byzantine temple.
　　Langdon unwrapped the cryptex from his coat, walked to the velvet divan, and slid the wooden boxdeep underneath it, well out of sight. Then, shaking out his jacket, he put it back on, smoothed thelapels, and smiled at Sophie as he sat down directly over the stashed treasure.
　　The divan it is, Sophie thought, taking a seat beside him.
　　As she stared into the growing fire, enjoying the warmth, Sophie had the sensation that hergrandfather would have loved this room. The dark wood paneling was bedecked with Old Masterpaintings, one of which Sophie recognized as a Poussin, her grandfather's second-favorite painter.
　　On the mantel above the fireplace, an alabaster bust of Isis watched over the room.
　　Beneath the Egyptian goddess, inside the fireplace, two stone gargoyles served as andirons, theirmouths gaping to reveal their menacing hollow throats. Gargoyles had always terrified Sophie as achild; that was, until her grandfather cured her of the fear by taking her atop Notre Dame Cathedralin a rainstorm. "Princess, look at these silly creatures," he had told her, pointing to the gargoylerainspouts with their mouths gushing water. "Do you hear that funny sound in their throats?"Sophie nodded, having to smile at the burping sound of the water gurgling through their throats.
　　"They're gargling," her grandfather told her. "Gargariser! And that's where they get the silly name'gargoyles.' " Sophie had never again been afraid.
　　The fond memory caused Sophie a pang of sadness as the harsh reality of the murder gripped heragain. Grand-père is gone. She pictured the cryptex under the divan and wondered if LeighTeabing would have any idea how to open it. Or if we even should ask him. Sophie's grandfather'sfinal words had instructed her to find Robert Langdon. He had said nothing about involving anyoneelse. We needed somewhere to hide, Sophie said, deciding to trust Robert's judgment.
　　"Sir Robert!" a voice bellowed somewhere behind them. "I see you travel with a maiden."Langdon stood up. Sophie jumped to her feet as well. The voice had come from the top of a curledstaircase that snaked up to the shadows of the second floor. At the top of the stairs, a form movedin the shadows, only his silhouette visible.
　　"Good evening," Langdon called up. "Sir Leigh, may I present Sophie Neveu.""An honor." Teabing moved into the light.
　　"Thank you for having us," Sophie said, now seeing the man wore metal leg braces and usedcrutches. He was coming down one stair at a time. "I realize it's quite late.""It is so late, my dear, it's early." He laughed. "Vous n'êtes pas Américaine?"Sophie shook her head. "Parisienne.""Your English is superb.""Thank you. I studied at the Royal Holloway.""So then, that explains it." Teabing hobbled lower through the shadows. "Perhaps Robert told you Ischooled just down the road at Oxford." Teabing fixed Langdon with a devilish smile. "Of course, Ialso applied to Harvard as my safety school."Their host arrived at the bottom of the stairs, appearing to Sophie no more like a knight than SirElton John. Portly and ruby-faced, Sir Leigh Teabing had bushy red hair and jovial hazel eyes thatseemed to twinkle as he spoke. He wore pleated pants and a roomy silk shirt under a paisley vest.
　　Despite the aluminum braces on his legs, he carried himself with a resilient, vertical dignity thatseemed more a by-product of noble ancestry than any kind of conscious effort.
　　Teabing arrived and extended a hand to Langdon. "Robert, you've lost weight."Langdon grinned. "And you've found some."Teabing laughed heartily, patting his rotund belly. "Touché. My only carnal pleasures these daysseem to be culinary." Turning now to Sophie, he gently took her hand, bowing his head slightly,breathing lightly on her fingers, and diverting his eyes. "M'lady."Sophie glanced at Langdon, uncertain whether she'd stepped back in time or into a nuthouse.
　　The butler who had answered the door now entered carrying a tea service, which he arranged on atable in front of the fireplace.
　　"This is Rémy Legaludec," Teabing said, "my manservant."The slender butler gave a stiff nod and disappeared yet again.
　　"Rémy is Lyonais," Teabing whispered, as if it were an unfortunate disease. "But he does saucesquite nicely."Langdon looked amused. "I would have thought you'd import an English staff?""Good heavens, no! I would not wish a British chef on anyone except the French tax collectors."He glanced over at Sophie. "Pardonnez-moi, Mademoiselle Neveu. Please be assured that mydistaste for the French extends only to politics and the soccer pitch. Your government steals mymoney, and your football squad recently humiliated us."Sophie offered an easy smile.
　　Teabing eyed her a moment and then looked at Langdon. "Something has happened. You both lookshaken."Langdon nodded. "We've had an interesting night, Leigh.""No doubt. You arrive on my doorstep unannounced in the middle of the night speaking of theGrail. Tell me, is this indeed about the Grail, or did you simply say that because you know it is thelone topic for which I would rouse myself in the middle of the night?"A little of both, Sophie thought, picturing the cryptex hidden beneath the couch.
　　"Leigh," Langdon said, "we'd like to talk to you about the Priory of Sion."Teabing's bushy eyebrows arched with intrigue. "The keepers. So this is indeed about the Grail.
　　You say you come with information? Something new, Robert?""Perhaps. We're not quite sure. We might have a better idea if we could get some information fromyou first."Teabing wagged his finger. "Ever the wily American. A game of quid pro quo. Very well. I am atyour service. What is it I can tell you?"Langdon sighed. "I was hoping you would be kind enough to explain to Ms. Neveu the true natureof the Holy Grail."Teabing looked stunned. "She doesn't know?"Langdon shook his head.
　　The smile that grew on Teabing's face was almost obscene. "Robert, you've brought me a virgin?"Langdon winced, glancing at Sophie. "Virgin is the term Grail enthusiasts use to describe anyonewho has never heard the true Grail story."Teabing turned eagerly to Sophie. "How much do you know, my dear?"Sophie quickly outlined what Langdon had explained earlier—the Priory of Sion, the KnightsTemplar, the Sangreal documents, and the Holy Grail, which many claimed was not a cup... butrather something far more powerful.
　　"That's all?" Teabing fired Langdon a scandalous look. "Robert, I thought you were a gentleman.
　　You've robbed her of the climax!""I know, I thought perhaps you and I could..." Langdon apparently decided the unseemly metaphorhad gone far enough.
　　Teabing already had Sophie locked in his twinkling gaze. "You are a Grail virgin, my dear. Andtrust me, you will never forget your first time."
装甲车顺着那条两旁排列着白杨树的蜿蜒车道驶向别墅。索菲觉得浑身紧绷的肌肉放松了下来。能离开公路，她感到很欣慰。除了这个篱笆包围中的外国人的私家庄园，她再也想不出其他什么避难所了。
车转入了宽阔的弧形车道后，别墅就映人了他们的眼帘。那座房子有三层，六十英尺长，耀眼的聚光灯照耀着灰色的石块墙面。外观粗糙的楼房前面是优美洁净的花园和波光粼粼的池塘。
楼房里亮起了灯。
兰登没把车开到前门，而是把它停在了常春藤环绕的停车场上。他说道："没必要冒险被公路上的人发现，也没有必要让雷为我们开来一辆破破烂烂的装甲车而疑惑。"索菲点点头："那我们怎么处置密码筒呢？我们不能把它留在这里，可是如果让雷看到了，他肯定想知道这是什么东西。""不用担心。"兰登说。他跳下车，脱下身上的夹克衫，把盒子裹了起来，然后像抱婴儿似的把那捆衣服小心翼翼地搂在怀中。
索菲不放心地看着他："小心一点。"
"提彬从不亲自给客人开门，他喜欢让客人自己进去。等进去后，在他没来招呼我们之前，我会找个地方把它藏起来。"兰登停了一下，接着说道："实际上，我得在你见他之前提醒你一下：许多人都觉得他的幽默有些……奇特。"索菲暗想，还能有什么比今晚发生的事更奇特呢？
弧形的鹅卵石小路通向一座刻有橡树和樱桃图案的门，门上的铜门环有葡萄那么大。
索菲正想去抓那个门环，门就打开了。
一个穿着整洁得体的男管家站在他们面前，整理着刚刚才穿戴上的白领带和晚礼服。
他看上去五十岁左右，举止优雅，可是表情严肃，显然对他们的到来不太欢迎。
"雷先生马上就下来。"他朗声说道，法语口音很重。"他在更衣。他不喜欢穿着睡衣迎接客人。要我为您拿外套吗？"他皱着眉头，看着兰登怀中的衣服，说道。
"谢谢，我自己来。"
"当然。请这边走。"
管家领着他们穿过一个铺着大理石的豪华大厅，走进了一间装修精美的客厅，在那里垂着缨穗的维多利亚时代灯具投射着柔和的灯光。空气有些陈腐--烟草、茶叶、煮葡萄酒的味道和石质建筑发出的泥土气息混合在一起--但颇有帝王气息。在对面的墙上，有一个大得能烤牛的壁炉。男管家走到壁炉前，弯下腰，划了一根火柴，点燃了里面的橡木。不一会儿，木头就"噼噼啪啪"地燃烧了起来。
管家站起来，整了一下衣服，说道："先生希望你们随意。"说完，他转身走了，只留下索菲和兰登独自在屋里。
索菲发现壁炉旁边有许多古董式的座位--一个文艺复兴时期的天鹅绒长沙发，一个乡村鹰爪形摇椅，还有一对好像是从拜占庭古庙里搬来的靠背长凳--一时竟不知应该坐在哪里。
兰登把木盒从外套里拿出来，塞到了天鹅绒长沙发里。从外面一点也看不到木盒的影子。然后，他抖了一下夹克衫，穿在了身上，整了整衣领，一屁股坐在那个藏着宝贝的沙发上面，笑盈盈地看着索菲。
就坐沙发吧，索菲想着，靠着兰登坐了下来。
索菲看着燃烧的火焰，感受着温暖，心想要是祖父在的话，肯定会喜欢这个房间。黑色的木板墙上装饰着早期绘画大师的作品。索菲认出其中一幅是祖父最喜欢的画家之一普桑的作品。壁炉架上放着一尊古埃及生育女神伊希斯的半身石膏像。
埃及女神像下面，有两个在壁炉里当柴架的石质"怪兽滴水嘴"，它们大张着嘴巴，露出了吓人的喉咙。小时候，索菲总是很害怕怪兽状的滴水嘴。有一次，在暴风雨大作的时候，祖父把她带到了巴黎圣母院的房顶上。他指着那些嘴里不断涌出雨水的怪兽状排水口，说道："我的小公主，看看这些蠢家伙，你听到它们嘴里发出的有趣声音了吗？"索菲点点头，觉得它们好像在打嗝，不禁笑了起来。祖父说："它们在漱口呢。这就是把它们叫做"怪兽滴水嘴"的原因。"从那以后，索菲再也没怕过"怪兽滴水嘴"了。
美好的回忆使索菲感到一阵悲伤，祖父被谋杀的现实又一次被摆到了她的面前。祖父死了。她想到了长沙发下的密码筒，想知道兰登能否打开它，想知道雷爵士究竟能否帮上忙。祖父去世前留下话，让她去找罗伯特。兰登，可没说要把其他人也牵扯进来。可是，我们需要藏身之处呀，索菲自言自语道，她决定相信罗伯特的判断。
"罗伯特先生！"他们身后传来一声咆哮。"我看到你在跟一位少女一起旅行。"
兰登站了起来。索菲也一跃而起。声音来自通向二楼阴暗处的螺旋形楼梯。楼梯上面，一个身影在阴影里移动着，只能看到他的轮廓。
兰登说道："晚上好。雷先生。请允许我给您介绍索菲。奈芙。"
提彬边向灯光处走来，边说道："非常荣幸见到您。"
"非常感谢您接待我们。"索菲说道。现在她看清了那个男子腿上装着金属假肢，拄着拐杖。他一次只能下一级台阶。她又说道："我想现在来打搅您，实在是太晚了。"
"是太早了，亲爱的。都是早上了。"他大笑着说道。"你是美国人吗？"
索菲摇摇头说："巴黎人。"
"你的英语很棒啊。"
"谢谢。我是在英国皇家霍洛威大学念的书。"
"啊！怪不得。"提彬从阴影里蹒跚着走下来。"也许罗伯特告诉过你，我是在贵校旁边的牛津上的学。"提彬看着兰登，调皮地笑了起来。"当然了。我也申请了哈佛大学。做候补学校。"
提彬来到楼下。索菲认为他和埃尔顿。约翰爵士一样是典型的骑士。他身材魁伟，面色红润。长着一头浓密的红发，说话时一双淡褐色眼睛快活地眨动着。他穿着笔挺的裤子，宽大的真丝衬衫外套着一件佩斯利螺旋花纹呢背心。虽然他腿上绑着铝制假肢，但他看上去乐观开朗。腰杆笔直。言行举止问自然地流露出一种贵族气质。
提彬走过来，握住兰登的手说："罗伯特，你瘦了。"
兰登笑着说："你胖了。"
提彬拍着他那圆鼓鼓的肚子，开心地大笑了起来。"讲得好！近来我的肉体快乐只有在厨房里才能得到满足。"他转向索菲，温柔地拿起她的手，微微地低下头，在她手指上轻轻地吹了一下，然后看着她说："我的小姐。"
索菲疑惑地看着兰登，不知道自己是应该及时地向后退一步呢，还是停在原地。
这时，男管家把茶点端了进来，放在了壁炉旁边的桌子上。
"这是雷米。莱格鲁德。"提彬说道。"我的男佣。"
那位瘦长的管家僵硬地点了一下头，走了出去。
"雷米是里昂人。"提彬轻声说道，好像提到了可怕的疾病。"可是他擅长做汤。"
兰登被逗笑了。"我还以为你会从英国招一个佣人呢！"
"天哪！决不！我只会让英国厨子去侍奉那些法国税务官。"他抬头看着索菲说道："请原谅，奈芙小姐。请放心，我对法国的憎恨仅限于政治和足球。你们的政府偷走了我的钱，而你们的球队刚刚羞辱了我们。"索菲轻声地笑了一下。
提彬瞪着眼看了她一会儿，然后看了看兰登，说道："肯定出了什么事。你们看上去都很惊慌。"兰登点点头，说道："雷，我刚刚度过了一个有趣的夜晚。"
"毫无疑问。你们招呼也不打，半夜三更跑到我家，要跟我谈论圣杯的事情，难道这还不够有趣吗？你们要说的事确实跟圣杯有关吗？还是你们知道只有跟圣杯有关的事才能让我半夜从床上爬起来，才这样说的？"
"两个原因都有。"索菲惦记着垫子下面的密码筒。
兰登说道："雷，我们想跟你谈谈关于隐修会的事。"
提彬好奇地抬起浓密的眉毛，睁大了双眼。"秘密保守人？那么，这确实跟圣杯有关了。你们说带来了一些消息。是新消息吗，罗伯特？"
"也许是，我们不肯定。如果你能先告诉我们一些消息，我们会作出更好的判断。"
提彬指着他，轻蔑地说："你可真是个老谋深算的美国人。那么，就让我们一物换一物。好吧，乐意为你们服务。你们想知道什么呢？"
兰登叹了口气，说道："你能否好心地向奈芙小姐讲解一下圣杯的实质？"
提彬目瞪口呆："她不知道？"
兰登摇了摇头。
提彬笑了起来，脸上浮现出看似猥亵的表情。"罗伯特，你给我带来了一个"处女"？"
兰登挥了一下手，看着索菲说：""处女"是圣杯的狂热追随者对从未听过圣杯故事的人的称呼。"提彬急切地转向索菲，问道："亲爱的，关于圣杯你知道多少呢？"
索菲把兰登早些时候告诉她的一些东西简要地说了一下：从隐修会到圣殿武士团，从圣杯文件到圣杯拥有神奇力量的传说。
提彬震惊地看着兰登，不怀好意地说道："就这些？罗伯特，我还以为你是个绅士呢。
你根本就没有让她达到高潮！""我知道，我想你和我或许可以用更……"兰登显然觉得这个比喻太过火了。
提彬早已盯住了索菲，双眼冒光："亲爱的，你是个圣杯处女。请相信，你永远都忘不了你的第一次。"
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Chapter 55  
Seated on the divan beside Langdon, Sophie drank her tea and ate a scone, feeling the welcomeeffects of caffeine and food. Sir Leigh Teabing was beaming as he awkwardly paced before theopen fire, his leg braces clicking on the stone hearth.
　　"The Holy Grail," Teabing said, his voice sermonic. "Most people ask me only where it is. I fearthat is a question I may never answer." He turned and looked directly at Sophie. "However... the farmore relevant question is this: What is the Holy Grail?"Sophie sensed a rising air of academic anticipation now in both of her male companions.
　　"To fully understand the Grail," Teabing continued, "we must first understand the Bible. How welldo you know the New Testament?"Sophie shrugged. "Not at all, really. I was raised by a man who worshipped Leonardo da Vinci."Teabing looked both startled and pleased. "An enlightened soul. Superb! Then you must be awarethat Leonardo was one of the keepers of the secret of the Holy Grail. And he hid clues in his art.""Robert told me as much, yes.""And Da Vinci's views on the New Testament?""I have no idea."Teabing's eyes turned mirthful as he motioned to the bookshelf across the room. "Robert, wouldyou mind? On the bottom shelf. La Storia di Leonardo."Langdon went across the room, found a large art book, and brought it back, setting it down on thetable between them. Twisting the book to face Sophie, Teabing flipped open the heavy cover andpointed inside the rear cover to a series of quotations. "From Da Vinci's notebook on polemics andspeculation," Teabing said, indicating one quote in particular. "I think you'll find this relevant toour discussion."Sophie read the words.
　　Many have made a trade of delusionsand false miracles, deceiving the stupid multitude.
　　—LEONARDO DA VINCI"Here's another," Teabing said, pointing to a different quote.
　　Blinding ignorance does mislead us.
　　O! Wretched mortals, open your eyes!
　　—LEONARDO DA VINCISophie felt a little chill. "Da Vinci is talking about the Bible?"Teabing nodded. "Leonardo's feelings about the Bible relate directly to the Holy Grail. In fact, DaVinci painted the true Grail, which I will show you momentarily, but first we must speak of theBible." Teabing smiled. "And everything you need to know about the Bible can be summed up bythe great canon doctor Martyn Percy." Teabing cleared his throat and declared, "The Bible did notarrive by fax from heaven.""I beg your pardon?""The Bible is a product of man, my dear. Not of God. The Bible did not fall magically from theclouds. Man created it as a historical record of tumultuous times, and it has evolved throughcountless translations, additions, and revisions. History has never had a definitive version of thebook.""Okay.""Jesus Christ was a historical figure of staggering influence, perhaps the most enigmatic andinspirational leader the world has ever seen. As the prophesied Messiah, Jesus toppled kings,inspired millions, and founded new philosophies. As a descendant of the lines of King Solomonand King David, Jesus possessed a rightful claim to the throne of the King of the Jews.
　　Understandably, His life was recorded by thousands of followers across the land." Teabing pausedto sip his tea and then placed the cup back on the mantel. "More than eighty gospels wereconsidered for the New Testament, and yet only a relative few were chosen forinclusion—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John among them.
　　"Who chose which gospels to include?" Sophie asked.
　　"Aha!" Teabing burst in with enthusiasm. "The fundamental irony of Christianity! The Bible, as weknow it today, was collated by the pagan Roman emperor Constantine the Great.""I thought Constantine was a Christian," Sophie said.
　　"Hardly," Teabing scoffed. "He was a lifelong pagan who was baptized on his deathbed, too weakto protest. In Constantine's day, Rome's official religion was sun worship—the cult of Sol Invictus,or the Invincible Sun—and Constantine was its head priest. Unfortunately for him, a growingreligious turmoil was gripping Rome. Three centuries after the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, Christ'sfollowers had multiplied exponentially. Christians and pagans began warring, and the conflict grewto such proportions that it threatened to rend Rome in two. Constantine decided something had tobe done. In 325 A.D., he decided to unify Rome under a single religion. Christianity."Sophie was surprised. "Why would a pagan emperor choose Christianity as the official religion?"Teabing chuckled. "Constantine was a very good businessman. He could see that Christianity wason the rise, and he simply backed the winning horse. Historians still marvel at the brilliance withwhich Constantine converted the sun-worshipping pagans to Christianity. By fusing pagansymbols, dates, and rituals into the growing Christian tradition, he created a kind of hybrid religionthat was acceptable to both parties.""Transmogrification," Langdon said. "The vestiges of pagan religion in Christian symbology areundeniable. Egyptian sun disks became the halos of Catholic saints. Pictograms of Isis nursing hermiraculously conceived son Horus became the blueprint for our modern images of the Virgin Marynursing Baby Jesus. And virtually all the elements of the Catholic ritual—the miter, the altar, thedoxology, and communion, the act of "God-eating"—were taken directly from earlier paganmystery religions."Teabing groaned. "Don't get a symbologist started on Christian icons. Nothing in Christianity isoriginal. The pre-Christian God Mithras—called the Son of God and the Light of the World—wasborn on December 25, died, was buried in a rock tomb, and then resurrected in three days. By theway, December 25 is also the birthday of Osiris, Adonis, and Dionysus. The newborn Krishna waspresented with gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Even Christianity's weekly holy day was stolen fromthe pagans.""What do you mean?""Originally," Langdon said, "Christianity honored the Jewish Sabbath of Saturday, but Constantineshifted it to coincide with the pagan's veneration day of the sun." He paused, grinning. "To thisday, most churchgoers attend services on Sunday morning with no idea that they are there onaccount of the pagan sun god's weekly tribute—Sunday."Sophie's head was spinning. "And all of this relates to the Grail?""Indeed," Teabing said. "Stay with me. During this fusion of religions, Constantine needed tostrengthen the new Christian tradition, and held a famous ecumenical gathering known as theCouncil of Nicaea."Sophie had heard of it only insofar as its being the birthplace of the Nicene Creed.
　　"At this gathering," Teabing said, "many aspects of Christianity were debated and voted upon—thedate of Easter, the role of the bishops, the administration of sacraments, and, of course, the divinityof Jesus.""I don't follow. His divinity?""My dear," Teabing declared, "until that moment in history, Jesus was viewed by His followers asa mortal prophet... a great and powerful man, but a man nonetheless. A mortal.""Not the Son of God?""Right," Teabing said. "Jesus' establishment as 'the Son of God' was officially proposed and votedon by the Council of Nicaea.""Hold on. You're saying Jesus' divinity was the result of a vote?""A relatively close vote at that," Teabing added. "Nonetheless, establishing Christ's divinity wascritical to the further unification of the Roman empire and to the new Vatican power base. Byofficially endorsing Jesus as the Son of God, Constantine turned Jesus into a deity who existedbeyond the scope of the human world, an entity whose power was unchallengeable. This not onlyprecluded further pagan challenges to Christianity, but now the followers of Christ were able toredeem themselves only via the established sacred channel—the Roman Catholic Church."Sophie glanced at Langdon, and he gave her a soft nod of concurrence.
　　"It was all about power," Teabing continued. "Christ as Messiah was critical to the functioning ofChurch and state. Many scholars claim that the early Church literally stole Jesus from His originalfollowers, hijacking His human message, shrouding it in an impenetrable cloak of divinity, andusing it to expand their own power. I've written several books on the topic.""And I assume devout Christians send you hate mail on a daily basis?""Why would they?" Teabing countered. "The vast majority of educated Christians know the historyof their faith. Jesus was indeed a great and powerful man. Constantine's underhanded politicalmaneuvers don't diminish the majesty of Christ's life. Nobody is saying Christ was a fraud, ordenying that He walked the earth and inspired millions to better lives. All we are saying is thatConstantine took advantage of Christ's substantial influence and importance. And in doing so, heshaped the face of Christianity as we know it today."Sophie glanced at the art book before her, eager to move on and see the Da Vinci painting of theHoly Grail.
　　"The twist is this," Teabing said, talking faster now. "Because Constantine upgraded Jesus' statusalmost four centuries after Jesus' death, thousands of documents already existed chronicling Hislife as a mortal man. To rewrite the history books, Constantine knew he would need a bold stroke.
　　From this sprang the most profound moment in Christian history." Teabing paused, eyeing Sophie.
　　"Constantine commissioned and financed a new Bible, which omitted those gospels that spoke ofChrist's human traits and embellished those gospels that made Him godlike. The earlier gospelswere outlawed, gathered up, and burned.""An interesting note," Langdon added. "Anyone who chose the forbidden gospels overConstantine's version was deemed a heretic. The word heretic derives from that moment in history.
　　The Latin word haereticus means 'choice.' Those who 'chose' the original history of Christ were theworld's first heretics.""Fortunately for historians," Teabing said, "some of the gospels that Constantine attempted toeradicate managed to survive. The Dead Sea Scrolls were found in the 1950s hidden in a cave nearQumran in the Judean desert. And, of course, the Coptic Scrolls in 1945 at Nag Hammadi. Inaddition to telling the true Grail story, these documents speak of Christ's ministry in very humanterms. Of course, the Vatican, in keeping with their tradition of misinformation, tried very hard tosuppress the release of these scrolls. And why wouldn't they? The scrolls highlight glaringhistorical discrepancies and fabrications, clearly confirming that the modern Bible was compiledand edited by men who possessed a political agenda—to promote the divinity of the man JesusChrist and use His influence to solidify their own power base.""And yet," Langdon countered, "it's important to remember that the modern Church's desire tosuppress these documents comes from a sincere belief in their established view of Christ. TheVatican is made up of deeply pious men who truly believe these contrary documents could only befalse testimony."Teabing chuckled as he eased himself into a chair opposite Sophie. "As you can see, our professorhas a far softer heart for Rome than I do. Nonetheless, he is correct about the modern clergybelieving these opposing documents are false testimony. That's understandable. Constantine's Biblehas been their truth for ages. Nobody is more indoctrinated than the indoctrinator.""What he means," Langdon said, "is that we worship the gods of our fathers.""What I mean," Teabing countered, "is that almost everything our fathers taught us about Christ isfalse. As are the stories about the Holy Grail."Sophie looked again at the Da Vinci quote before her. Blinding ignorance does mislead us. O!
　　Wretched mortals, open your eyes!
　　Teabing reached for the book and flipped toward the center. "And finally, before I show you DaVinci's paintings of the Holy Grail, I'd like you to take a quick look at this." He opened the book toa colorful graphic that spanned both full pages. "I assume you recognize this fresco?"He's kidding, right? Sophie was staring at the most famous fresco of all time—The LastSupper—Da Vinci's legendary painting from the wall of Santa Maria delle Grazie near Milan. Thedecaying fresco portrayed Jesus and His disciples at the moment that Jesus announced one of themwould betray Him. "I know the fresco, yes.""Then perhaps you would indulge me this little game? Close your eyes if you would."Uncertain, Sophie closed her eyes.
　　"Where is Jesus sitting?" Teabing asked.
　　"In the center.""Good. And what food are He and His disciples breaking and eating?""Bread." Obviously.
　　"Superb. And what drink?""Wine. They drank wine.""Great. And one final question. How many wineglasses are on the table?"Sophie paused, realizing it was the trick question. And after dinner, Jesus took the cup of wine,sharing it with His disciples. "One cup," she said. "The chalice." The Cup of Christ. The HolyGrail. "Jesus passed a single chalice of wine, just as modern Christians do at communion."Teabing sighed. "Open your eyes."She did. Teabing was grinning smugly. Sophie looked down at the painting, seeing to herastonishment that everyone at the table had a glass of wine, including Christ. Thirteen cups.
　　Moreover, the cups were tiny, stemless, and made of glass. There was no chalice in the painting.
　　No Holy Grail.
　　Teabing's eyes twinkled. "A bit strange, don't you think, considering that both the Bible and ourstandard Grail legend celebrate this moment as the definitive arrival of the Holy Grail. Oddly, DaVinci appears to have forgotten to paint the Cup of Christ.""Surely art scholars must have noted that.""You will be shocked to learn what anomalies Da Vinci included here that most scholars either donot see or simply choose to ignore. This fresco, in fact, is the entire key to the Holy Grail mystery.
　　Da Vinci lays it all out in the open in The Last Supper"Sophie scanned the work eagerly. "Does this fresco tell us what the Grail really is?""Not what it is," Teabing whispered. "But rather who it is. The Holy Grail is not a thing. It is, infact... a person"
索菲靠着兰登坐在长沙发上，喝着茶吃着烤饼，享受着食物的美味。雷。提彬爵士微笑着，在炉火前面笨拙地踱来踱去。假肢敲在地面上，发出"叮叮"的声响。
"关于圣杯。"提彬用布道式的口吻说道。"许多人只想知道它在哪里，恐怕这个问题我永远都无法回答。"他转过身，盯着索菲："然而，更重要的问题应该是：圣杯是什么？"
索菲感觉出两位男士都对此非常关注。
提彬继续说道："要完全了解圣杯，就首先要了解《圣经》。你对《新约》了解多少？"
索菲耸耸肩，说道："一点也不了解，真的。我被一个信奉列昂纳多。达。芬奇的人抚养长大。"提彬对此既惊讶又颇为赞赏。"真是个开明的人。好极了！那么，你一定知道列昂纳多是圣杯秘密的守护人之一。他把秘密藏在了他的作品当中。""是的，罗伯特也这么说。"
"那么，你知道达。芬奇对《新约》的看法吗？"
"不知道。"
提彬开心地指着对面的书架，说道："罗伯特，请从书架的底层把那本《达。芬奇的故事》拿过来。"兰登穿过房间，在书架上找到了一本很大的艺术书籍，拿了回来，放在桌子上。提彬把书转过来朝着索菲，翻开沉重的封面，指着封底上的几行引言说道："这些摘自达。芬奇所作的有关辩论术和思考方法的笔记。"他指着其中的一行说道："我想你会发现这一行跟我们讨论的话题有关。"索菲念着上面的字。
许多人故意制造错觉和虚假的奇迹，来欺骗大众。
---列昂纳多。达。芬奇提彬指着另外一行："还有。"
无知遮蔽了我们的眼睛，让我们误入歧途。啊！尘世间可怜的人们啊，睁开眼睛吧！
--列昂纳多。达。芬奇索菲感到一阵寒意。"达。芬奇在谈论《圣经》吗？"
提彬点点头，说道："列昂纳多对《圣经》的看法跟圣杯有直接的关系。实际上，达。芬奇画出了真正的圣杯，一会儿我就拿给你看。不过，我们必须先讲一下《圣经》。"提彬停了一下，然后微笑着说道："你对《圣经》所需了解的一切可以用伟大的教会医生马丁。珀玺的一句话来概括。"提彬清了清喉咙，大声说道："《圣经》不是来自天堂的传真。""您说什么？"
"亲爱的，《圣经》是人造出来的，不是上帝创造的。《圣经》不是神奇地从云彩里掉下来的。人类为了记录历史上那些喧嚣的时代而创造了它。多年以来，它历经了无数次翻译和增补修订。历史上从来就没有过一本确定的《圣经》。""哦。"
"耶稣是一个非常有影响的历史人物，也许称得上是迄今为止世界上最高深莫测和最有灵气的领袖。作为预言中的救世主，他倾倒了众多君王，激励了千万民众，创立了新的哲学。作为所罗门王和大卫王的后代，耶稣完全有权要求获得犹太国王的王位。那么，他的一生被成千上万的追随者记录也就不足为奇了。"提彬停下来，喝了一口茶，然后把茶杯放回到壁炉架上，接着说道："人们认为原来的《新约》有八十多个福音，可是后来只有很少的几个被保存了下来，其中有《马太福音》、《马克福音》、《路德福音》和《约翰福音》等。"索菲问道："收录福音的工作是谁完成的呢？"
"啊哈！"提彬突然进发出了极大的热情。"这是对基督教最大的讽刺！我们今天所知道的《圣经》是由罗马的异教徒皇帝康斯坦丁大帝整理的。"索菲说道："我还以为康斯坦丁是个基督徒呢。"
提彬不屑地说："根本就不是。他一生都是个异教徒，只是在临终的时候才接受了洗礼，因为那时他已经无力反抗了。康斯坦丁在世时，罗马的官方宗教是拜日教--信奉"无敌的太阳"的宗教，而康斯坦丁是当时的大主教。然而不幸的是，在罗马发生的一场宗教骚乱愈演愈烈。耶稣被钉上十字架三百年后，他的追随者成几何倍数地增长。基督徒和异教徒开始冲突，矛盾加剧，最后双方甚至威胁要把罗马一分为二。康斯坦丁决心干预此事。
公元325 年，他决定用一个宗教来统一罗马。那就是基督教。"索菲吃惊地问："为什么一个信仰异教的皇帝要把基督教作为国教呢？"
提彬笑了起来："康斯坦丁是个非常精明的商人。因为他看到基督教正处于上升阶段，他无非就是要支持能获胜的一方。历史学家们至今仍对康斯坦丁表现出的雄才伟略极为赞赏，因为他竟然让那些拜日教的教徒转而信仰了基督教。他把异教的标记、纪年和仪式都融入正在不断壮大的基督教，从而创立了一个双方都能接受的混合宗教。"兰登说："实际上是变形。基督教的标记中可以找到许多异教的痕迹埃及的太阳圆盘变成了天主教圣人头上的光环。古埃及生育女神伊希斯怀抱儿子光明之神荷露丝的壁画为圣母玛丽娅抱着小耶稣的画像提供了蓝本。几乎所有天主教的仪式--如主教加戴法冠、圣坛、礼拜式上唱荣光赞歌以及领圣餐等等--都直接来自那些早期的神秘异教。"提彬叹息道："千万不要让一个符号学家去研究基督教的圣像。那些圣像没有一个是基督教自己的。基督教之前的神灵密斯拉--波斯神话中被称之为"上帝的儿子"或"世界之光"的光明之神--出生于十二月二十五号。他死后被埋进了石墓，三天后就复活了。另外，十二月二十五号还是古埃及冥神、古希腊神话中的美男子阿多尼斯以及酒神狄俄尼索斯的生日。而新出生的奎师那神也会被供奉上黄金和乳香。甚至基督教每周的礼拜日也是从异教那里偷来的。""为什么这样说呢？"
兰登说："本来基督教遵奉的是犹太人的礼拜六安息日，但康斯坦丁却把它改成了异教徒们敬奉太阳的那一天。"他停了一下，笑着说道："时至今日，大部分人都会在星期天早上去教堂做礼拜。但他们都不知道，那是异教徒们每周一次供奉太阳神的日子，也就是"太阳日"。"索菲听得头脑发昏。"那么，这些都跟圣杯有关吗？"
提彬说道："一点关系也没有。请听我说下去。在这次宗教大融合中，康斯坦丁需要强化新基督教的基石，因此他组建了著名的"尼西亚联合会"，联合全球的教会。"索菲知道尼西亚是《尼西亚信经》的产地。
提彬说道："在这次大会上人们就基督教许多方面的问题都进行了辩论和投票，比如像复活节的日期、主教的职责和圣礼的管理，当然也包括耶稣的神性。""我不大明白。神性是什么意思？"
提彬大声说道："亲爱的，在那个时候之前，耶稣的追随者们认为他是一个凡人预言家，一个伟大而能力超群的人。但无论如何，他是一个人，一个凡人。""不是上帝的儿子？"
提彬说道："不是。"耶稣是上帝的儿子"是由官方提出的，这一说法在尼西亚联合会上被投票通过。""等一等。你说耶稣的神性是投票的结果？"
提彬补充道："投票结果比较接近，险些没被通过。但不管怎样，确立耶稣的神性，对罗马帝国的进一步统一以及增强梵蒂冈中心的权力都至关重要。通过确立耶稣神性的手段，康斯坦丁把耶稣变成了一个超脱于人类世界、权力不容侵犯的神。这不仅揭开了异教徒们进一步挑战基督教的序幕，还使得基督的追随者们只能通过罗马天主教堂--这个唯一确定的神圣途径--来给自己赎罪。"索菲看了兰登一眼，点了点头，表示认可。
提彬继续说道："把耶稣确立为救世主对充分发挥罗马教堂和罗马帝国的政府职能非常关键。许多学者都宣称，早期的罗马教堂把耶稣从他原来的追随者那里偷走了，抹杀了他作为人类的要旨，把他裹进不可侵犯的神的斗篷里，以此来扩大他们自己的权力。我就此写过好几本书。""那些虔敬的基督徒每天都会给您发一封充满仇恨的信吧？"
提彬不同意："为什么他们要发那种信？绝大多数受过教育的基督徒都知道基督教的历史，都知道耶稣是个伟大而能力超群的人。康斯坦丁卑鄙的政治花招一点也抹杀不了耶稣的伟大。没人会说耶稣是个骗子，或否认他曾行走世界各地，激励了千千万万的人过上更美好的生活。我们所说的只是康斯坦丁通过利用耶稣的重大的影响和尊贵的地位，塑造了今天的基督教。"索菲瞅了瞅她面前的那本艺术书，急着想离开，去看一下达。芬奇画的圣杯。
提彬加快了语速："其中的曲折在于，由于康斯坦丁是在耶稣去世四百年后才把他说成神的，因此有成千上万份记录着耶稣的凡人生活的文件依然流传着。为了改写历史，康斯坦丁知道他必须采取大胆的行动。由此，基督教历史上影响最为深远的事件发生了。"提彬停了一下，盯着索菲，继续说道："康斯坦丁下令并出资编写一本新的《圣经》。这本《圣经》删掉了那些夸赞耶稣作为一个凡人所表现出来的美德的福音，而将那些把他描述得像神一样的福音添油加醋了一番。早先的福音书被查禁焚烧掉了。"兰登接过话茬："非常有趣的是，那些选择禁书，而不看康斯坦丁制定的《圣经》的人被称为异教徒。"异教徒"这个词就是从那时候来的。拉丁语中"异教徒"的意思是"选择"。那些"选择"了基督教真正历史的人反而成了世界上的第一批被排除在基督教之外的"异教徒"。"提彬说道："让历史学家们庆幸的是，康斯坦丁试图销毁的福音书中有一部分竟流传了下来。《死海古卷》于20 世纪50 年代，在犹太沙漠库姆巴勒斯坦古村庄附近的一个山洞里被发现。当然了，还有1945 年在那格。哈纳地发现的《科普特教徒古卷》。这些文件不仅讲述了圣杯的真实故事，还毫不含糊地表明了耶稣是一个凡人牧师。当然，梵蒂冈为了保持它那欺骗民众的传统，竭力制止这些古卷的发表。他们为什么要这样做？原因很简单，这些古卷明显地展示了历史上存在的分歧和摩擦，明白无误地确认了现在的《圣经》实际上是由那些别有用心的人编写而成的。那些人把凡人耶稣基督说成是神，从而利用他的影响来巩固自己的权力。"兰登对此提出了不同意见。"可是，也要知道，当代的罗马教廷压制这些文件的愿望确实是出于他们对耶稣的真诚信仰。当然，这样的信仰是从他们既定的角度出发的。今日的梵蒂冈中心是由那些非常虔诚的教徒组成，他们确实相信这些反面材料是些伪证。"提彬舒舒服服地坐到索菲对面的椅子上，笑着说："你也看到了，比起我来，咱们的教授对罗马教会可是仁慈多了！可是不管怎样，他说的没错，现在的教士们确实认为这些反面材料是伪证。然而，这也可以理解。毕竟，千百年来康斯坦丁制定的那本《圣经》是他们唯一的真理。没有能比那些教化者得到更多的教化。"兰登说道："他的意思是，我们信奉的是父辈们传给我们的上帝。"
提彬反驳道："不对，我的意思是，父辈们教导我们的关于耶稣的一切都是假的。关于圣杯的事也不例外。"索菲又看了看书上达。芬奇的话。
无知遮蔽了我们的双眼，让我们误人歧途。啊！尘世间可怜的人们啊，睁开你们的眼睛吧！
提彬拿起书，翻到中间。"最后，在我给你看达。芬奇画的圣杯之前，你先看一下这个。
"他翻到一幅彩色的图片，那个图片整整占了两页纸。"我想你肯定认识这幅壁画。"他在开玩笑吧？索菲看到的是世界名画--达。芬奇为米兰附近的感恩堂创作的壁画--《最后的晚餐》。那幅已遭风化的壁画描述的是耶稣对他的门徒宣布会有人背叛他时的情景。
"我知道这幅画。"
"那就请允许我耍个小小的把戏。请合上眼。"
索菲合上了眼，不知道他会耍什么花样。
提彬问道："耶稣坐在哪儿？"
"中间。"
"好的。那么，他们在分发和享用什么食物呢？"
"面包。这还用问？ "
"很好。那么，他们在喝什么呢？"
"酒，他们在喝酒。"
"非常好。最后一个问题。桌子上有多少个酒杯呢？"
索菲愣了一下，马上意识到这是个圈套。饭后，耶稣拿起酒杯，轮流传给他的门徒，共享美酒。她说道："一个。而且是高脚酒杯。"耶稣的杯子。圣杯。"耶稣传递的是一个高脚酒杯，就像现在的基督徒在圣餐礼上所用的那样。"提彬叹了一口气，说道："那就睁开眼吧。"
索菲睁开眼，看到提彬在得意地冲着她笑。她低下头看着那幅画，让她大吃一惊的是，桌子旁边的每个人手里都拿着一个杯子，连耶稣也不例外。有十三个杯子。而且这些杯子都是平底的玻璃小酒杯。画上根本就没有高脚酒杯。没有圣杯。
提彬眨着眼，说道："很奇怪是吧？根据《圣经》和圣杯传说，圣杯应该在这个时候出现。可奇怪的是，达。芬奇好像忘了把圣杯画上去。""艺术专家们肯定注意到这个问题了。"
"你会吃惊地发现，大部分的专家对画中的异常要么没发现，要么就故意视而不见。实际上，这幅壁画是通向圣杯秘密的关键所在。达。芬奇把这个秘密堂而皇之地画在了《最后的晚餐》上。"索菲急切地打量着那幅画。"这幅壁画告诉我们圣杯是什么东西了吗？"
提彬轻声说道："不是什么东西，而是什么人。圣杯不是一件物品。实际上，它是……一个人。"
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Chapter 56  
Sophie stared at Teabing a long moment and then turned to Langdon. "The Holy Grail is a person?"Langdon nodded. "A woman, in fact." From the blank look on Sophie's face, Langdon could tellthey had already lost her. He recalled having a similar reaction the first time he heard thestatement. It was not until he understood the symbology behind the Grail that the feminineconnection became clear.
　　Teabing apparently had a similar thought. "Robert, perhaps this is the moment for the symbologistto clarify?" He went to a nearby end table, found a piece of paper, and laid it in front of Langdon.
　　Langdon pulled a pen from his pocket. "Sophie, are you familiar with the modern icons for maleand female?" He drew the common male symbol mail and female symbol female.
　　"Of course," she said.
　　"These," he said quietly, "are not the original symbols for male and female. Many peopleincorrectly assume the male symbol is derived from a shield and spear, while the female symbolrepresents a mirror reflecting beauty. In fact, the symbols originated as ancient astronomicalsymbols for the planet-god Mars and planet-goddess Venus. The original symbols are far simpler."Langdon drew another icon on the paper.
　　/"This symbol is the original icon for male," he told her. "A rudimentary phallus.""Quite to the point," Sophie said.
　　"As it were," Teabing added.
　　Langdon went on. "This icon is formally known as the blade, and it represents aggression andmanhood. In fact, this exact phallus symbol is still used today on modern military uniforms todenote rank.""Indeed." Teabing grinned. "The more penises you have, the higher your rank. Boys will be boys."Langdon winced. "Moving on, the female symbol, as you might imagine, is the exact opposite." Hedrew another symbol on the page. "This is called the chalice."/Sophie glanced up, looking surprised.
　　Langdon could see she had made the connection. "The chalice," he said, "resembles a cup orvessel, and more important, it resembles the shape of a woman's womb. This symbolcommunicates femininity, womanhood, and fertility." Langdon looked directly at her now.
　　"Sophie, legend tells us the Holy Grail is a chalice—a cup. But the Grail's description as a chaliceis actually an allegory to protect the true nature of the Holy Grail. That is to say, the legend usesthe chalice as a metaphor for something far more important.""A woman," Sophie said.
　　"Exactly." Langdon smiled. "The Grail is literally the ancient symbol for womanhood, and theHoly Grail represents the sacred feminine and the goddess, which of course has now been lost,virtually eliminated by the Church. The power of the female and her ability to produce life wasonce very sacred, but it posed a threat to the rise of the predominantly male Church, and so thesacred feminine was demonized and called unclean. It was man, not God, who created the conceptof 'original sin,' whereby Eve tasted of the apple and caused the downfall of the human race.
　　Woman, once the sacred giver of life, was now the enemy.""I should add," Teabing chimed, "that this concept of woman as life-bringer was the foundation ofancient religion. Childbirth was mystical and powerful. Sadly, Christian philosophy decided toembezzle the female's creative power by ignoring biological truth and making man the Creator.
　　Genesis tells us that Eve was created from Adam's rib. Woman became an offshoot of man. And asinful one at that. Genesis was the beginning of the end for the goddess.""The Grail," Langdon said, "is symbolic of the lost goddess. When Christianity came along, the oldpagan religions did not die easily. Legends of chivalric quests for the lost Grail were in fact storiesof forbidden quests to find the lost sacred feminine. Knights who claimed to be "searching for thechalice" were speaking in code as a way to protect themselves from a Church that had subjugatedwomen, banished the Goddess, burned nonbelievers, and forbidden the pagan reverence for thesacred feminine."Sophie shook her head. "I'm sorry, when you said the Holy Grail was a person, I thought youmeant it was an actual person.""It is," Langdon said.
　　"And not just any person," Teabing blurted, clambering excitedly to his feet. "A woman whocarried with her a secret so powerful that, if revealed, it threatened to devastate the very foundationof Christianity!"Sophie looked overwhelmed. "Is this woman well known in history?""Quite." Teabing collected his crutches and motioned down the hall. "And if we adjourn to thestudy, my friends, it would be my honor to show you Da Vinci's painting of her."Two rooms away, in the kitchen, manservant Rémy Legaludec stood in silence before a television.
　　The news station was broadcasting photos of a man and woman... the same two individuals towhom Rémy had just served tea.
索菲盯着提彬看了好一会儿，然后转身看着兰登问道："圣杯是个人吗？"
兰登点点头。"实际上是个女人。"从索菲茫然的表情中，兰登知道她已经被弄得晕头转向了。他记得自己第一次听到这个说法时，也有这样的反应。直到明白了圣杯的象征意义，他才搞清了圣杯和女性之间的联系。
提彬显然也是这么想的。"罗伯特，也许现在是你这位象征学专家把事情说明白的时候了。"他走到桌子一头，找了一张纸，放在兰登面前。
兰登从口袋里拿出一支笔，说道："索菲，你熟悉代表女性和男性的图示吗？"说着，他在纸上画了一个很常见的代表男性的图示含和一个代表女性的图示早。
"当然了。"索菲说。
兰登平静地说道："可是这并不是最早代表男性和女性的图示。许多人都误认为这个代表男性的图示源于盾牌和长矛，而这个代表女性的图示则源于能照出她们美丽容貌的镜子。实际上这些标记源自古代天文学用来代表行星的男神马尔斯和女神维纳斯的标记。原来的标记更加简单。"兰登在纸上又画了一个图示。
／＼他接着说道："这是最早代表男性的图示。男性生殖器的基本形状。"
索菲说道："确实很像。"
提彬补充道："原本如此。"
兰登接着说道："这个图示的正式名称为"刀刃"，它代表着进攻和男子气。实际上，时至今日，这个图示还被用在军队的制服上来表示军衔。"提彬笑着说道："确实如此。你的生殖器越多，军衔就越高。男人真是本性难移啊。"
兰登不由得皱了一下眉头。"让我们继续。可以想象，代表女性的标志方向完全相反。
"他在纸上又画了一个图示。
＼／
"这个叫做圣餐杯。"
索菲抬头看着他，满脸惊讶。
兰登看出她已经开始联想了。他说道："圣餐杯就像一个酒杯或容器。但更重要的是，它还像妇女的子宫。"兰登盯着她说道："索菲，根据传说，圣杯是一个圣餐杯，一个酒杯。
但是，这样的描述隐藏了圣杯的实质。也就是说，传说只是把圣杯作为一个重要事物的比喻。""女人。"索菲说道。
兰登微笑着说道："一点没错。杯子实际上是古代代表女性的标记。那么圣杯代表的就是神圣的女性和女神了。她现在已经消失得无影无踪，实际上是被教廷毁灭了。女性的力量和创造生命的能力非常神奇，而这对当时正在崛起的男性统治的罗马教廷构成了严重的威胁。于是他们就把神圣的女性说成是魔鬼，并说她们不圣洁。按照他们的说法，是男人而不是上帝创造了"原罪"，而夏娃则偷尝了禁果，招致了人类的堕落。一度被奉为神圣的生命创造者的女性现在成了敌人。"提彬附和道："认为女性是生命缔造者的观点是很多古代宗教的基础。生育后代是件非常神奇而又充满了力量的事。然而，令人伤心的是，基督教的哲学决定通过忽略女性的生理特征来抹灭女性的创造力量，而把男性尊为"创造者"。《创世纪》告诉世人夏娃是用亚当的肋骨做成的。女人成了男人的衍生物，而且还是罪人。《创世纪》结束了对女神的崇拜。"兰登说道："圣杯代表着失落的女神。当基督教产生时，所谓的邪教并没有轻易地消亡。关于骑士们寻找圣杯的传说实际上是关于寻找圣女的故事。那些宣称"寻找圣杯"的骑士是以此来掩盖真相，以免受到罗马教廷的迫害。当时的教廷欺压妇女，驱逐女神，烧死不信奉基督教的人，而且还禁止异教徒崇拜圣女。"索菲摇摇头，说道："对不起，当您说圣杯是个人时，我还以为那是个真人呢。"
兰登说道："是个真人。"
提彬兴奋得站了起来，脱口而出："但并不是指所有人。那位特殊的女性携带着一个重大的秘密，一旦秘密泄露，将会动摇基督教的根基！"索菲激动地问道："这位妇女在历史上很有名吗？"
"非常有名。"提彬拿起拐杖，向走廊走去："朋友们，到我的书房去继续讨论吧，我将很荣幸地给你们看一幅达。芬奇为她画的肖像。"厨房里，男佣雷米。莱格鲁德一言不发地站在电视机前。新闻中正播放着一个男人和一个女人的照片……雷米刚刚为这两个人送过茶。
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Chapter  57
Standing at the roadblock outside the Depository Bank of Zurich, Lieutenant Collet wondered whatwas taking Fache so long to come up with the search warrant. The bankers were obviously hidingsomething. They claimed Langdon and Neveu had arrived earlier and were turned away from thebank because they did not have proper account identification.
　　So why won't they let us inside for a look?
　　Finally, Collet's cellular phone rang. It was the command post at the Louvre. "Do we have a searchwarrant yet?" Collet demanded.
　　"Forget about the bank, Lieutenant," the agent told him. "We just got a tip. We have the exactlocation where Langdon and Neveu are hiding."Collet sat down hard on the hood of his car. "You're kidding.""I have an address in the suburbs. Somewhere near Versailles.""Does Captain Fache know?""Not yet. He's busy on an important call.""I'm on my way. Have him call as soon as he's free." Collet took down the address and jumped inhis car. As he peeled away from the bank, Collet realized he had forgotten to ask who had tippedDCPJ off to Langdon's location. Not that it mattered. Collet had been blessed with a chance toredeem his skepticism and earlier blunders. He was about to make the most high-profile arrest ofhis career.
　　Collet radioed the five cars accompanying him. "No sirens, men. Langdon can't know we'recoming."Forty kilometers away, a black Audi pulled off a rural road and parked in the shadows on the edgeof a field. Silas got out and peered through the rungs of the wrought-iron fence that encircled thevast compound before him. He gazed up the long moonlit slope to the chateau in the distance.
　　The downstairs lights were all ablaze. Odd for this hour, Silas thought, smiling. The informationthe Teacher had given him was obviously accurate. I will not leave this house without the keystone,he vowed. I will not fail the bishop and the Teacher.
　　Checking the thirteen-round clip in his Heckler Koch, Silas pushed it through the bars and let it fallonto the mossy ground inside the compound. Then, gripping the top of the fence, he heavedhimself up and over, dropping to the ground on the other side. Ignoring the slash of pain from hiscilice, Silas retrieved his gun and began the long trek up the grassy slope.
科莱中尉站在苏黎世储蓄银行外的路障旁，琢磨着究竟是什么耽搁了法希，让他拿一个搜查令也用了这么长时间。那些银行的高级职员显然隐瞒了什么。他们声称兰登和奈芙早些时候来过银行，但是由于不能提供正确的账号，被赶了出去。
那为什么不让我们进去搜查呢？
科莱的手机终于响了起来。不过，电话却是从卢浮宫案发现场的指挥部打来的。"拿到搜查令了吗？"科莱急忙问。
那个警察说道："中尉，别管银行了。我们刚刚得到线索，知道兰登和奈芙的藏身之处了。"科莱一屁股坐在车盖上。"你在开玩笑吧？"
"我得到一个郊区的地址，在凡尔赛附近。"
"法希局长知道这件事吗？"
"还不知道。他在忙着接一个重要的电话。"
"我马上去。他打完电话，就马上通知他。"他记下那地址，跳上了车。当他开着车离开银行时，他突然想起刚才竟忘了问是谁向警署透露了兰登的藏身之地。但那并不重要。他现在遇到良机来弥补因多疑而犯下的大错了。他要开始职业生涯中最令人注目的一次逮捕行动。
他用无线电对讲机通知其他五辆车上的人。"别拉警报，伙计们。兰登不可能知道我们要去。"五十公里以外的一条乡间公路上，一辆黑色的奥迪车停在了田地旁的树影里。塞拉斯下了车，透过大院外的铁栅栏朝里张望。月光下，他顺着长长的斜坡向上望去，看到了远处的别墅。
别墅的底楼灯火通明。"这个时候还亮着灯，定有蹊跷。"塞拉斯想着，不禁偷笑了起来。
"导师"告诉他的消息一点儿也没错。"我一定要拿到楔石才能离开这里。"他发誓道。"我决不能辜负了主教和"导师"的期望。"塞拉斯检查了一下赫克勒。克奇手熗的子弹夹，子弹夹中装着十三发子弹。他把手熗塞过栅栏，扔到院子里那长满青苔的地面上。接着，他抓住栅栏，一跃而起，翻了过去，落到栅栏内。他顾不得毛布衬衫里鞭伤引起的阵阵疼痛，捡起熗，顺着长满青草的长长斜坡向上走去。
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Chapter 58
  Teabing's "study" was like no study Sophie had ever seen. Six or seven times larger than even themost luxurious of office spaces, the knight's cabinet de travail resembled an ungainly hybrid ofscience laboratory, archival library, and indoor flea market. Lit by three overhead chandeliers, theboundless tile floor was dotted with clustered islands of worktables buried beneath books, artwork,artifacts, and a surprising amount of electronic gear—computers, projectors, microscopes, copymachines, and flatbed scanners.
　　"I converted the ballroom," Teabing said, looking sheepish as he shuffled into the room. "I havelittle occasion to dance."Sophie felt as if the entire night had become some kind of twilight zone where nothing was as sheexpected. "This is all for your work?""Learning the truth has become my life's love," Teabing said. "And the Sangreal is my favoritemistress."The Holy Grail is a woman, Sophie thought, her mind a collage of interrelated ideas that seemed tomake no sense. "You said you have a picture of this woman who you claim is the Holy Grail.""Yes, but it is not I who claim she is the Grail. Christ Himself made that claim.""Which one is the painting?" Sophie asked, scanning the walls.
　　"Hmmm..." Teabing made a show of seeming to have forgotten. "The Holy Grail. The Sangreal.
　　The Chalice." He wheeled suddenly and pointed to the far wall. On it hung an eight-foot-long printof The Last Supper, the same exact image Sophie had just been looking at. "There she is!"Sophie was certain she had missed something. "That's the same painting you just showed me."He winked. "I know, but the enlargement is so much more exciting. Don't you think?"Sophie turned to Langdon for help. "I'm lost."Langdon smiled. "As it turns out, the Holy Grail does indeed make an appearance in The LastSupper. Leonardo included her prominently.""Hold on," Sophie said. "You told me the Holy Grail is a woman. The Last Supper is a painting ofthirteen men.""Is it?" Teabing arched his eyebrows. "Take a closer look."Uncertain, Sophie made her way closer to the painting, scanning the thirteen figures—Jesus Christin the middle, six disciples on His left, and six on His right. "They're all men," she confirmed.
　　"Oh?" Teabing said. "How about the one seated in the place of honor, at the right hand of theLord?"Sophie examined the figure to Jesus' immediate right, focusing in. As she studied the person's faceand body, a wave of astonishment rose within her. The individual had flowing red hair, delicatefolded hands, and the hint of a bosom. It was, without a doubt... female.
　　"That's a woman!" Sophie exclaimed.
　　Teabing was laughing. "Surprise, surprise. Believe me, it's no mistake. Leonardo was skilled atpainting the difference between the sexes."Sophie could not take her eyes from the woman beside Christ. The Last Supper is supposed to bethirteen men. Who is this woman? Although Sophie had seen this classic image many times, shehad not once noticed this glaring discrepancy.
　　"Everyone misses it," Teabing said. "Our preconceived notions of this scene are so powerful thatour mind blocks out the incongruity and overrides our eyes.""It's known as skitoma," Langdon added. "The brain does it sometimes with powerful symbols.""Another reason you might have missed the woman," Teabing said, "is that many of thephotographs in art books were taken before 1954, when the details were still hidden beneath layersof grime and several restorative repaintings done by clumsy hands in the eighteenth century. Now,at last, the fresco has been cleaned down to Da Vinci's original layer of paint." He motioned to thephotograph. "Et voilà!"Sophie moved closer to the image. The woman to Jesus' right was young and pious-looking, with ademure face, beautiful red hair, and hands folded quietly. This is the woman who singlehandedlycould crumble the Church?
　　"Who is she?" Sophie asked.
　　"That, my dear," Teabing replied, "is Mary Magdalene."Sophie turned. "The prostitute?"Teabing drew a short breath, as if the word had injured him personally. "Magdalene was no suchthing. That unfortunate misconception is the legacy of a smear campaign launched by the earlyChurch. The Church needed to defame Mary Magdalene in order to cover up her dangeroussecret—her role as the Holy Grail.""Her role?""As I mentioned," Teabing clarified, "the early Church needed to convince the world that themortal prophet Jesus was a divine being. Therefore, any gospels that described earthly aspects ofJesus' life had to be omitted from the Bible. Unfortunately for the early editors, one particularlytroubling earthly theme kept recurring in the gospels. Mary Magdalene." He paused. "Morespecifically, her marriage to Jesus Christ.""I beg your pardon?" Sophie's eyes moved to Langdon and then back to Teabing.
　　"It's a matter of historical record," Teabing said, "and Da Vinci was certainly aware of that fact.
　　The Last Supper practically shouts at the viewer that Jesus and Magdalene were a pair."Sophie glanced back to the fresco.
　　"Notice that Jesus and Magdalene are clothed as mirror images of one another." Teabing pointed tothe two individuals in the center of the fresco.
　　Sophie was mesmerized. Sure enough, their clothes were inverse colors. Jesus wore a red robe andblue cloak; Mary Magdalene wore a blue robe and red cloak. Yin and yang.
　　"Venturing into the more bizarre," Teabing said, "note that Jesus and His bride appear to be joinedat the hip and are leaning away from one another as if to create this clearly delineated negativespace between them."Even before Teabing traced the contour for her, Sophie saw it—the indisputable V shape at thefocal point of the painting. It was the same symbol Langdon had drawn earlier for the Grail, thechalice, and the female womb.
　　"Finally," Teabing said, "if you view Jesus and Magdalene as compositional elements rather thanas people, you will see another obvious shape leap out at you." He paused. "A letter of thealphabet."Sophie saw it at once. To say the letter leapt out at her was an understatement. The letter wassuddenly all Sophie could see. Glaring in the center of the painting was the unquestionable outlineof an enormous, flawlessly formed letter M.
　　"A bit too perfect for coincidence, wouldn't you say?" Teabing asked.
　　Sophie was amazed. "Why is it there?"Teabing shrugged. "Conspiracy theorists will tell you it stands for Matrimonio or Mary Magdalene.
　　To be honest, nobody is certain. The only certainty is that the hidden M is no mistake. CountlessGrail-related works contain the hidden letter M—whether as watermarks, underpaintings, orcompositional allusions. The most blatant M, of course, is emblazoned on the altar at Our Lady ofParis in London, which was designed by a former Grand Master of the Priory of Sion, JeanCocteau."Sophie weighed the information. "I'll admit, the hidden M's are intriguing, although I assumenobody is claiming they are proof of Jesus' marriage to Magdalene.""No, no," Teabing said, going to a nearby table of books. "As I said earlier, the marriage of Jesusand Mary Magdalene is part of the historical record." He began pawing through his bookcollection. "Moreover, Jesus as a married man makes infinitely more sense than our standardbiblical view of Jesus as a bachelor.""Why?" Sophie asked.
　　"Because Jesus was a Jew," Langdon said, taking over while Teabing searched for his book, "andthe social decorum during that time virtually forbid a Jewish man to be unmarried. According toJewish custom, celibacy was condemned, and the obligation for a Jewish father was to find asuitable wife for his son. If Jesus were not married, at least one of the Bible's gospels would havementioned it and offered some explanation for His unnatural state of bachelorhood."Teabing located a huge book and pulled it toward him across the table. The leather-bound editionwas poster-sized, like a huge atlas. The cover read: The Gnostic Gospels. Teabing heaved it open,and Langdon and Sophie joined him. Sophie could see it contained photographs of what appearedto be magnified passages of ancient documents—tattered papyrus with handwritten text. She didnot recognize the ancient language, but the facing pages bore typed translations.
　　"These are photocopies of the Nag Hammadi and Dead Sea scrolls, which I mentioned earlier,"Teabing said. "The earliest Christian records. Troublingly, they do not match up with the gospels inthe Bible." Flipping toward the middle of the book, Teabing pointed to a passage. "The Gospel ofPhilip is always a good place to start." Sophie read the passage:
　　And the companion of the Saviour is Mary Magdalene. Christ loved her more thanall the disciples and used to kiss her often on her mouth. The rest of the discipleswere offended by it and expressed disapproval. They said to him, "Why do you loveher more than all of us?"The words surprised Sophie, and yet they hardly seemed conclusive. "It says nothing of marriage.""Au contraire." Teabing smiled, pointing to the first line. "As any Aramaic scholar will tell you,the word companion, in those days, literally meant spouse."Langdon concurred with a nod.
　　Sophie read the first line again. And the companion of the Saviour is Mary Magdalene.
　　Teabing flipped through the book and pointed out several other passages that, to Sophie's surprise,clearly suggested Magdalene and Jesus had a romantic relationship. As she read the passages,Sophie recalled an angry priest who had banged on her grandfather's door when she was aschoolgirl.
　　"Is this the home of Jacques Saunière?" the priest had demanded, glaring down at young Sophiewhen she pulled open the door. "I want to talk to him about this editorial he wrote." The priest heldup a newspaper.
　　Sophie summoned her grandfather, and the two men disappeared into his study and closed thedoor. My grandfather wrote something in the paper? Sophie immediately ran to the kitchen andflipped through that morning's paper. She found her grandfather's name on an article on the secondpage. She read it. Sophie didn't understand all of what was said, but it sounded like the Frenchgovernment, under pressure from priests, had agreed to ban an American movie called The LastTemptation of Christ, which was about Jesus having sex with a lady called Mary Magdalene. Hergrandfather's article said the Church was arrogant and wrong to ban it.
　　No wonder the priest is mad, Sophie thought.
　　"It's pornography! Sacrilege!" the priest yelled, emerging from the study and storming to the frontdoor. "How can you possibly endorse that! This American Martin Scorsese is a blasphemer, andthe Church will permit him no pulpit in France!" The priest slammed the door on his way out.
　　When her grandfather came into the kitchen, he saw Sophie with the paper and frowned. "You'requick."Sophie said, "You think Jesus Christ had a girlfriend?""No, dear, I said the Church should not be allowed to tell us what notions we can and can'tentertain.""Did Jesus have a girlfriend?"Her grandfather was silent for several moments. "Would it be so bad if He did?"Sophie considered it and then shrugged. "I wouldn't mind."Sir Leigh Teabing was still talking. "I shan't bore you with the countless references to Jesus andMagdalene's union. That has been explored ad nauseum by modern historians. I would, however,like to point out the following." He motioned to another passage. "This is from the Gospel of MaryMagdalene."Sophie had not known a gospel existed in Magdalene's words. She read the text:
　　And Peter said, "Did the Saviour really speak with a woman without our knowledge?
　　Are we to turn about and all listen to her? Did he prefer her to us?"And Levi answered, "Peter, you have always been hot-tempered. Now I see youcontending against the woman like an adversary. If the Saviour made her worthy,who are you indeed to reject her? Surely the Saviour knows her very well. That iswhy he loved her more than us.""The woman they are speaking of," Teabing explained, "is Mary Magdalene. Peter is jealous ofher.""Because Jesus preferred Mary?""Not only that. The stakes were far greater than mere affection. At this point in the gospels, Jesussuspects He will soon be captured and crucified. So He gives Mary Magdalene instructions on howto carry on His Church after He is gone. As a result, Peter expresses his discontent over playingsecond fiddle to a woman. I daresay Peter was something of a sexist."Sophie was trying to keep up. "This is Saint Peter. The rock on which Jesus built His Church.""The same, except for one catch. According to these unaltered gospels, it was not Peter to whomChrist gave directions with which to establish the Christian Church. It was Mary Magdalene."Sophie looked at him. "You're saying the Christian Church was to be carried on by a woman?""That was the plan. Jesus was the original feminist. He intended for the future of His Church to bein the hands of Mary Magdalene.""And Peter had a problem with that," Langdon said, pointing to The Last Supper. "That's Peterthere. You can see that Da Vinci was well aware of how Peter felt about Mary Magdalene."Again, Sophie was speechless. In the painting, Peter was leaning menacingly toward MaryMagdalene and slicing his blade-like hand across her neck. The same threatening gesture as inMadonna of the Rocks!
　　"And here too," Langdon said, pointing now to the crowd of disciples near Peter. "A bit ominous,no?"Sophie squinted and saw a hand emerging from the crowd of disciples. "Is that hand wielding adagger?""Yes. Stranger still, if you count the arms, you'll see that this hand belongs to... no one at all. It'sdisembodied. Anonymous."Sophie was starting to feel overwhelmed. "I'm sorry, I still don't understand how all of this makesMary Magdalene the Holy Grail.""Aha!" Teabing exclaimed again. "Therein lies the rub!" He turned once more to the table andpulled out a large chart, spreading it out for her. It was an elaborate genealogy. "Few people realizethat Mary Magdalene, in addition to being Christ's right hand, was a powerful woman already."Sophie could now see the title of the family tree.
　　THE TRIBE OF BENJAMIN"Mary Magdalene is here," Teabing said, pointing near the top of the genealogy.
　　Sophie was surprised. "She was of the House of Benjamin?""Indeed," Teabing said. "Mary Magdalene was of royal descent.""But I was under the impression Magdalene was poor."Teabing shook his head. "Magdalene was recast as a whore in order to erase evidence of herpowerful family ties."Sophie found herself again glancing at Langdon, who again nodded. She turned back to Teabing.
　　"But why would the early Church care if Magdalene had royal blood?"The Briton smiled. "My dear child, it was not Mary Magdalene's royal blood that concerned theChurch so much as it was her consorting with Christ, who also had royal blood. As you know, theBook of Matthew tells us that Jesus was of the House of David. A descendant of KingSolomon—King of the Jews. By marrying into the powerful House of Benjamin, Jesus fused tworoyal bloodlines, creating a potent political union with the potential of making a legitimate claim tothe throne and restoring the line of kings as it was under Solomon."Sophie sensed he was at last coming to his point.
　　Teabing looked excited now. "The legend of the Holy Grail is a legend about royal blood. WhenGrail legend speaks of 'the chalice that held the blood of Christ'... it speaks, in fact, of MaryMagdalene—the female womb that carried Jesus' royal bloodline."The words seemed to echo across the ballroom and back before they fully registered in Sophie'smind. Mary Magdalene carried the royal bloodline of Jesus Christ? "But how could Christ have abloodline unless...?" She paused and looked at Langdon.
　　Langdon smiled softly. "Unless they had a child."Sophie stood transfixed.
　　"Behold," Teabing proclaimed, "the greatest cover-up in human history. Not only was Jesus Christmarried, but He was a father. My dear, Mary Magdalene was the Holy Vessel. She was the chalicethat bore the royal bloodline of Jesus Christ. She was the womb that bore the lineage, and the vinefrom which the sacred fruit sprang forth!"Sophie felt the hairs stand up on her arms. "But how could a secret that big be kept quiet all ofthese years?""Heavens!" Teabing said. "It has been anything but quiet! The royal bloodline of Jesus Christ is thesource of the most enduring legend of all time—the Holy Grail. Magdalene's story has beenshouted from the rooftops for centuries in all kinds of metaphors and languages. Her story iseverywhere once you open your eyes.""And the Sangreal documents?" Sophie said. "They allegedly contain proof that Jesus had a royalbloodline?""They do.""So the entire Holy Grail legend is all about royal blood?""Quite literally," Teabing said. "The word Sangreal derives from San Greal—or Holy Grail. But inits most ancient form, the word Sangreal was divided in a different spot." Teabing wrote on a pieceof scrap paper and handed it to her.
　　She read what he had written.
　　Sang RealInstantly, Sophie recognized the translation. Sang Real literally meant Royal Blood.
提彬的"书房"跟索菲曾见过的其他书房不一样。这位爵士的书房比最豪华的办公室还要大六七倍，是个由试验室、档案馆和跳蚤市场组合而成的混合物。天花板上垂下的三个树枝形吊灯照耀着房间，瓷砖地板上摆放着巨大的工作台。工作台的上面堆着许多书籍、艺术品、仿制品和多得让人吃惊的电子设备：电脑、投影仪、显微镜、复印机和附带着平面印刷机的扫描仪，真是样样俱备。
提彬快步走了进去，有些羞怯地说："这是由舞厅改造的，因为我很少跳舞。"
索菲觉得整个夜晚都在神奇世界中漫游，一切都是那么新鲜。"这些都是您用来工作的吗？"
提彬说道："探索真理是我的最爱，而圣杯则是我最爱的情人。"
"圣杯是名女性。"索菲的脑海里闪过那些相互交织的概念。"您说您有一幅圣杯的画？"
"确实有一幅。但不是我把她称为圣杯的，是耶稣自己这么称呼她的。"
索菲扫视着墙壁，问道："是哪一幅啊？"
"嗯……"提彬作出一副好像忘记了的样子。"圣杯，耶稣在最后的晚餐上用的杯子，圣餐杯。"他突然转过身，指向远处的一面墙。那是一张八英尺长的《最后的晚餐》的放大照片，跟索菲刚才看过的那幅一模一样。"她在那儿！"
索菲肯定刚才她错过了什么。"这就是您刚才给我看的那一幅啊。"
提彬调皮地眨眨眼："我知道，不过，这幅放大的照片看起来更加让人激动。难道不是吗？"
索菲转过身，向兰登求助道："我糊涂了。"
兰登微笑着说："没错，圣杯确实出现在《最后的晚餐》上。达。芬奇把她放在了显著的位置上。"
索菲说："等一下。您说圣杯是个女的，可《最后的晚餐》画的是十二个男人呀。"
提彬面带疑惑地问道："是吗？你再仔细地看一下。"
索菲有些吃不准了，她走到那幅画跟前，逐个端详那十三个人物：耶稣基督在中间，六个门徒在左边，其余六个在右边。"都是男的。"索菲肯定地说。
"哦？"提彬说道。"站在显要位置的那个人呢？就是耶稣右手边上的那个。"
索菲仔细地观察着耶稣右手边上的那个人。她审视着那个人的脸型和身材，不由得惊诧万分。那人长着一头飘逸的红发，两只手纤细白皙，乳房的轮廓隐约可见。没错，那是个女人。
索菲叫道："那是个女人！"
提彬放声大笑起来："太吃惊了，太吃惊了。相信我，没错的。达。芬奇非常善于刻画男女的差异。"索菲简直无法再把视线从那个女人身上移开。《最后的晚餐》理应画的是十三个男人！
这个女人是谁？虽然索菲曾多次看过这幅画，可她从未注意到这么明显的异常之处。
提彬说道："没有人能注意到。我们多年来形成的对这幅画的认识已经根深蒂固，它蒙蔽了我们的双眼，使得我们忽视了这些异常之处。"兰登补充道："我们对很多事情都司空见惯，大脑有时是凭印象来工作的。"
提彬说道："你忽视了这个女人的另外一个原因是，许多艺术书籍上的照片都是1954年之前拍的。那时这些细微之处被层层的污垢掩盖着，而且大量的修复工作都是由18 世纪的一些笨拙的工匠完成的。现在。这幅壁画终于被清理得跟原作一模一样了。"他指着那张照片说道："就是她。"
索菲走近那张大照片。耶稣边上的那个女人看上去很年轻，满脸度诚。她体态端庄，满头漂亮的红发，正安详地握着双手。这就是那个能乔手空拳粉碎罗马教廷的女人？
索菲问道："她是谁？"
提彬答道："亲爱的，那就是抹大拉的玛利亚。"
索菲转身问道："那个妓女？"
提彬倒吸了一口气，好像被这句话刺痛了。"她不是妓女。这个不幸的误解是早年罗马教廷发动的那场战争留下的。罗马教廷不得不诋毁玛利亚，以此掩盖她所携带的危险秘密，掩盖她作为圣杯的角色。""她的角色？"
提彬说道："正如我刚才所说的，早年的罗马教廷告诉世人生活在尘世间的耶稣是个神。因此，任何描述耶稣凡人生活的福音都必须从《圣经》中删除。然而不幸的是，那些早期的编写者发现福音中有个反复出现的主题，这一主题描绘了耶稣的尘世生活，令他们感到非常棘手。那就是有关抹大拉的玛利亚的福音。"他停顿了一下，接着说："更确切地说，是关于她和耶稣的婚姻的主题。""您说什么？"索菲转过脸去看了看兰登，又看了看提彬。
提彬说："这是有历史纪录的。达。芬奇肯定知道这一事实。《最后的晚餐》实际上就在向人们宣告"耶稣和抹大拉的玛利亚是一对"。"索菲回头看着那幅壁画。
提彬指着壁画中间的两个人，对索菲说："看，耶稣和她穿的衣服正好对应。"
索菲一看，惊得目瞪口呆。确实，他们衣服的颜色是对应的。耶稣穿着一件红罩衣，披着一件蓝斗篷；玛利亚。抹大拉则穿着一件蓝罩衣，披着一件红斗篷。一阴一阳。
提彬说："还有更奇妙的。看这里，耶稣的臀部和她的臀部靠在一起，而且正准备分开来为他们之间这个明显的实体留出空间。"还没等提彬指明，索菲已经注意到那幅画的焦点上有一个明显的V 形--和那个代表圣杯和女性子宫的图示一模一样。
"最后。"提彬说道。"如果你不把耶稣和抹大拉看作是人物，而只看作是构图的要素的话，你就会注意到一个明显的轮廓。"他停顿了一下，接着说："一个字母的轮廓。"索菲马上就辨认了出来。而且，与其说她看出了那个字母，倒不如说突然之间，她的眼中只有那个字母的轮廓了。毫无疑问，在这幅画的正中间有个巨大而完美的"M"的轮廓。
提彬问道："这太完美了，绝对不是巧合。你说呢？"
索菲惊呆了。"为什么会这样？"
提彬耸耸肩说道："理论家们会说那代表着"婚姻"（Matrimonio）或"玛利亚。抹大拉"（MaryMagdalene）。但说实话，没人能肯定。唯一能确定的就是画上确实隐藏着一个"M"。
许多跟圣杯有关的事物都包含着隐形的M，不管是水印，还是底层色或构图暗示。当然了，最耀眼的"M"要算伦敦"我们的巴黎女士"圣坛上的那个了。那是由隐修会的前任掌门纪恩。考克图设计的。"索菲想了想，说道："我得承认，隐形M 的故事确实很引人人胜。但我认为，没人有足够的证据来证明耶稣跟抹大拉的婚姻。""不。"提彬边说边走到一张堆满了书的桌子旁。"正如我刚才说过的，耶稣和抹大拉的婚姻是有历史记载的。"他开始在藏书里费力地寻找着。"而且，说耶稣是个已婚男人，比《圣经》里说他是个单身汉的观点更站得住脚。"索菲问道："为什么呢？"
提彬忙着找书，兰登接过话茬。"耶稣是个犹太人，而按照当时的传统，犹太男人是必须结婚的。根据犹太人的习俗，独身是要受到谴责的，一位犹太父亲有义务为他儿子找一个合适的妻子。如果耶稣没结婚，至少《圣经》中会有福音提到这件事，并为耶稣的独身作些解释。"提彬找到一本大书，把它拽到跟前。那本皮革封面的书有海报那么大，像一本大地图。书的封面上写着：《诺斯替教徒福音书》。提彬打开书，兰登和索菲走了过去。索菲发现书中是一些古代文件的放大照片，那些文件是写在破烂的草质纸张上的。索菲看不懂那些古代文字，但每页的边缘都印有译文。
提彬说："这些是我刚刚提到的《科普特教徒古卷》和《死海古卷》的照片，都是基督教最早的文件。让人头疼的是，它们跟《圣经》上的福音不一致。"提彬把书翻到中间，指着一篇文章说道："最好从《菲利普福音》开始。"
索菲读着那段文字：救世主的同伴是玛利亚。抹大拉。耶稣经常亲吻她，爱她胜过其他门徒。其他的门徒很气恼，表达了他们的不满。他们问耶稣："你为什么爱她胜过爱我们所有人呢？"
这段话让索菲很吃惊，但它也没说明什么。"这上面没提到婚姻呀。"
提彬指着第一行，微笑着说道："恰恰相反，任何一位亚拉姆语的学者都会告诉你，在那个时候"同伴"实际上是指"配偶"。"兰登点头表示同意。
索菲又把第一行读了一遍。救世主的配偶是玛利亚。抹大拉。
提彬翻着书页，把另外几篇文章指给索菲看。文章都明白无误地记载了抹大拉和耶稣的浪漫关系。对此，索菲惊讶万分。读着这些文章，她突然回忆起了儿时发生的一件事。
那天，一个怒气冲冲的教士拼命地砸她家的大门。小索菲打开门后，那个教士低头愤怒地盯着她，大声问道："这是雅克。索尼埃家吗？我要跟他讨论一下他写的这篇文章。"教士举起手里的一份报纸。
索菲叫来祖父，祖父带着那个人走进书房，关上了门。"祖父在报纸上写了些什么呀？"
索菲立刻跑进厨房，迅速地翻阅着早上来的报纸。她在第二页上找到了祖父写的那篇文章，读了起来。索菲并不完全明白文章的内容，只是大约地知道好像当时法国政府迫于教士们的压力，查封了一部叫做《耶稣最后的诱惑》的美国电影，那部电影讲述的是耶稣和一位名为玛利亚。抹大拉的女士发生性关系的故事。而祖父评论说罗马教廷太自大了，不应该查封这部电影。
索菲想道，怪不得那个教士当时那么激动。
"这是色情！是渎神！"教士从书房里出来，冲向前门。"你怎么能认可这种事！这个叫马丁。司高斯的美国人是个渎神者，教会绝对不会允许他在法国宣传这种东西的！"教士冲了出去。"嘭"的一声关上了门。
祖父走进厨房时，发现索菲在看报纸，皱着眉头说道："你的动作还挺快。"
索菲问道："是因为您认为耶稣有女朋友吗？"
"不，亲爱的。我是说教会不应该对我们指手画脚，告诉我们什么应该信，什么不应该信。""那么，耶稣有女朋友吗？"
祖父沉默了片刻，说道："如果有，会很糟吗？"
索菲想了一会儿，耸耸肩说道："我不在乎。"
雷。提彬爵士继续说道："我不想再多谈耶稣和抹大拉的婚姻，那已经被当代历史学家研究烂了。相反，我要告诉你这个。"他指着另一篇文章说道。"这是从《玛利亚。抹大拉福音》上摘抄下来的。"索菲还从未听说过有关于抹大拉的福音。她读着那段文字：彼得说道："救世主真的背着我们跟一个女人讲话了吗？我们需要掉转方向，都听她的吗？比起我们来，他是不是更喜欢她啊？"
莱维回答："彼得，你的脾气总是这么暴躁。现在，我发现你正在跟那个女人斗争，简直把她视作敌人。如果主认为她值得爱，你又有什么资格来反对她呢？主当然了解她了。
那也是他爱她胜过爱我们的原因。"提彬解释道："他们说的那个女人就是玛利亚，抹大拉。"
"就因为耶稣更喜欢玛利亚吗？"
"不仅如此。除了喜爱还有其他的利害关系。福音指出，耶稣怀疑他将会被捕并被钉上十字架。因此，他就告诉玛利亚。抹大拉应该怎样在他死后继续掌管他的教堂。结果，彼得对听从一个女人的命令非常不满。我敢说他是一个男性至上主义者。"索菲辩解说："那可是圣彼得！耶稣依靠他才建立起了教堂呀。"
"没错。但根据这些未经篡改的福音，耶稣没有命令彼得去建立基督教堂，而是让玛利亚。抹大拉去做。"索菲惊异地看着他，说道："您是说基督教堂是由一个女人建立的吗？"
"原计划是这样的。耶稣实际上是一个女权主义者。他想让玛利亚。抹大拉来掌管他的教堂。"兰登指着《最后的晚餐》说道："彼得对此很不满。他在这里。你可以看出达。芬奇完全意识到了彼得对玛利亚。抹大拉的憎恨。"索菲又一次无言以对。画上的彼得恶狠狠地斜靠着玛利亚，他的手像刀刃一样横在她的脖子上。跟《岩间圣母》上的那个威胁的姿势一模一样。
兰登指着彼得旁边的几个门徒，说道："看这里，有些不吉利，是吧？"
索菲眯起眼，看到有一只手从那群门徒中间伸了出来。"这就是那只握着匕首的手吗？"
"是的。还有更奇怪的。如果你数一下他们的胳膊，就会发现这只于属于……它不属于任何人。一只无名之手。"
索菲不知所措。"对不起。我还是不明白，所有这些是怎样使玛利亚。抹大拉成为圣杯的。"提彬又一次叫道："啊！原来如此！"他转向桌子，拽过一张大图纸，铺在索菲面前。
那是一张精心制作的家谱。"很少有人知道，玛利亚不仅是耶稣的左右手，而且早就是一个很有权势的女人了。"索菲看到了那本族谱的名称。
《本杰明家族》提彬指着家谱的顶端，说道："玛利亚。抹大拉在这里。"
索菲大吃一惊。"她竟然是本杰明家族的人？"
"没错。"提彬说道。"玛利亚。抹大拉是王室的后代。"
"可是我总以为抹大拉很穷。"
提彬摇摇头："把玛利亚。抹大拉说成妓女，就是要掩盖她跟她那权倾朝野的家族的关系。"索菲转头看着兰登，兰登点点头。她看着提彬，问道："为什么早年的罗马教廷会在乎抹大拉是否有皇家血统呢？"
提彬微笑着说道："亲爱的孩子，与其说罗马教廷关心玛利亚是否有皇家血统，还不如说他们更关心她跟同样有着皇家血统的耶稣的夫妻关系。正如你所知道的，根据《马太福音》，耶稣属于大卫王家族，是犹太王所罗门的后代。跟权势极大的本杰明家族联姻后，耶稣就把两个家族联合了起来，从而结成了有效的政治联盟。这样，他就有可能合法地要求继承王位，恢复所罗门王的皇族。"索菲感到他终于要切人正题了。
提彬看上去很兴奋。"关于圣杯的传说实际上是关于王室血统的传说。圣杯传说中提到的"盛着耶稣鲜血的杯子"……实际上说的是玛利亚。抹大拉--传承耶稣王室血统的女性。"这话好像穿越了整个书房，又传了回来，最后才完全进入索菲耳中。玛利亚。抹大拉传承耶稣的王室血统？"但是，耶稣怎么可能有后代呢？除非……"她突然停了下来，看着兰登。
兰登温柔地笑着："除非他们有孩子。"
索菲愣住了。
"等一等。"提彬宣布道。"下面要揭开的就是人类历史上最大的秘密。耶酥基督不仅结了婚，他还当了父亲。亲爱的，玛利亚。抹大拉就是圣杯。她是生下了耶稣基督王室后代的圣杯。她是传承耶稣王室血统的女性，是孕育神圣果实的那条蔓藤。"索菲觉得浑身的汗毛都竖了起来。"可是，那么重大的秘密怎么可能被默默地保守这么多年呢？"
提彬叫道："天啊！这个秘密从未被"默默地"保守过！经久不衰的圣杯传说一直围绕着耶稣基督的王室后代。抹大拉的故事也被用形形色色的比喻和各种各样的语言公开宣传了几百年。只要你注意看，有关她的传说到处都有。"索菲说道："那么，那些有关圣杯的文件呢？据说那里面藏着耶稣有后代的证据，是吗？"
"是的。"
"那么，圣杯传说都是关于王室血统的了？"
提彬说道："确实如此。圣杯这个词来自于"SanGreal"。最早的时候，"Sangreal"是在不同的地方断词的。"提彬在一张小纸条上写了两个字，然后递给她。
索菲看着纸条。
SangReal她立刻明白了它的含义。
"SangReal"的字面意义是"RoyalBlood"（王室血统）。
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Chapter 59  
The male receptionist in the lobby of the Opus Dei headquarters on Lexington Avenue in NewYork City was surprised to hear Bishop Aringarosa's voice on the line. "Good evening, sir.""Have I had any messages?" the bishop demanded, sounding unusually anxious.
　　"Yes, sir. I'm very glad you called in. I couldn't reach you in your apartment. You had an urgentphone message about half an hour ago.""Yes?" He sounded relieved by the news. "Did the caller leave a name?""No, sir, just a number." The operator relayed the number.
　　"Prefix thirty-three? That's France, am I right?""Yes, sir. Paris. The caller said it was critical you contact him immediately.""Thank you. I have been waiting for that call." Aringarosa quickly severed the connection.
　　As the receptionist hung up the receiver, he wondered why Aringarosa's phone connection soundedso crackly. The bishop's daily schedule showed him in New York this weekend, and yet hesounded a world away. The receptionist shrugged it off. Bishop Aringarosa had been acting verystrangely the last few months.
　　My cellular phone must not have been receiving, Aringarosa thought as the Fiat approached theexit for Rome's Ciampino Charter Airport. The Teacher was trying to reach me. DespiteAringarosa's concern at having missed the call, he felt encouraged that the Teacher felt confidentenough to call Opus Dei headquarters directly.
　　Things must have gone well in Paris tonight.
　　As Aringarosa began dialing the number, he felt excited to know he would soon be in Paris. I'll beon the ground before dawn. Aringarosa had a chartered turbo prop awaiting him here for the shortflight to France. Commercial carriers were not an option at this hour, especially considering thecontents of his briefcase.
　　The line began to ring.
　　A female voice answered. "Direction Centrale Police Judidaire."Aringarosa felt himself hesitate. This was unexpected. "Ah, yes... I was asked to call this number?""Qui êtes-vous?" the woman said. "Your name?"Aringarosa was uncertain if he should reveal it. The French Judicial Police?
　　"Your name, monsieur?" the woman pressed.
　　"Bishop Manuel Aringarosa.""Un moment." There was a click on the line.
　　After a long wait, another man came on, his tone gruff and concerned. "Bishop, I am glad I finallyreached you. You and I have much to discuss."
纽约市莱克星顿大街的天主事工会总部里，男接待员意外地接到了阿林加洛沙主教的电话，于是他问候道："晚上好，先生。"
"有我的口信吗？"主教急切地问道。
"是的，先生。很高兴您打了过来。我往您的房间里打电话，可是没人接。半小时之前有您的一个紧急电话留言。""是吗？"阿林加洛沙的声音听上去有点欣慰。"打电话的人留下名字了吗？"
"没有，先生。只留下了一个电话号码。"接待员把那个号码复述了一遍。
"区号是337 那是法国，对吗？"
"是的，先生。是巴黎。打电话的人说情况紧急，请您立刻跟他联络。"
"谢谢你。我一直在等这个电话。"说完，阿林加洛沙迅速地挂上了电话。
接待员边挂电话边琢磨："怎么阿林加洛沙主教的电话里有"噼哩啪啦"的干扰声？日程安排显示他这个周末在纽约，可是他的声音听起来却像是从世界的另一端传来的。"他耸了耸肩。"近几个月来，阿林加洛沙主教的举动一直都很古怪！"
我的手机肯定一直没信号，阿林加洛沙坐在菲亚特轿车中琢磨着，此时他们正直奔罗马的洽米皮诺机场。"导师"一直在试图跟我联系。虽然阿林加洛沙为错过了电话而担忧，但依然倍受鼓舞，因为"导师"直接把电话打到教会总部去了，说明他充满了信心。
今晚巴黎的事一定进展顺利。
阿林加洛沙激动地拨打起号码，他知道自己不久就可以到巴黎了。天亮之前我就能飞到那里。阿林加洛沙为这次法国之行包用的飞机已经在机场等候了。这个时候不宜坐客机，特别是考虑到他的公文包里装的东西，就更不能去坐客机了。
电话接通了。
一个女人的声音问道："这里是中央警署。请问您找谁？"
阿林加洛沙不禁犹豫了一下。这太意外了。"啊。请问是谁用这个号码给我打了电话？"
那个女的问道："请问您的名字？"
阿林加洛沙一时不知道是否应该说出自己的真名。那里是法国警署？
"您的名字，先生？"那个女人又问道。
"曼努埃尔。阿林加洛沙主教。"
"请等一下。"电话里传来"嗒"的一声。
过了好一会儿，电话里传来一个男人粗哑而不安的声音。"主教，很高兴终于找到你了。我们有很多事要商量。"
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