Security warden Claude Grouard simmered with rage as he stood over his prostrate captive in frontof the Mona Lisa. This bastard killed Jacques Saunière! Saunière had been like a well-loved fatherto Grouard and his security team.
Grouard wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger and bury a bullet in Robert Langdon's back.
As senior warden, Grouard was one of the few guards who actually carried a loaded weapon. Hereminded himself, however, that killing Langdon would be a generous fate compared to the miseryabout to be communicated by Bezu Fache and the French prison system.
Grouard yanked his walkie-talkie off his belt and attempted to radio for backup. All he heard wasstatic. The additional electronic security in this chamber always wrought havoc with the guards'
communications. I have to move to the doorway. Still aiming his weapon at Langdon, Grouardbegan backing slowly toward the entrance. On his third step, he spied something that made himstop short.
What the hell is that!
An inexplicable mirage was materializing near the center of the room. A silhouette. There wassomeone else in the room? A woman was moving through the darkness, walking briskly toward thefar left wall. In front of her, a purplish beam of light swung back and forth across the floor, as ifshe were searching for something with a colored flashlight.
"Qui est là?" Grouard demanded, feeling his adrenaline spike for a second time in the last thirtyseconds. He suddenly didn't know where to aim his gun or what direction to move.
"PTS," the woman replied calmly, still scanning the floor with her light.
Police Technique et Scientifique. Grouard was sweating now. I thought all the agents were gone!
He now recognized the purple light as ultraviolet, consistent with a PTS team, and yet he could notunderstand why DCPJ would be looking for evidence in here.
"Votre nom!" Grouard yelled, instinct telling him something was amiss. "Répondez!""C'est mot," the voice responded in calm French. "Sophie Neveu."Somewhere in the distant recesses of Grouard's mind, the name registered. Sophie Neveu? Thatwas the name of Saunière's granddaughter, wasn't it? She used to come in here as a little kid, butthat was years ago. This couldn't possibly be her! And even if it were Sophie Neveu, that washardly a reason to trust her; Grouard had heard the rumors of the painful falling-out betweenSaunière and his granddaughter.
"You know me," the woman called. "And Robert Langdon did not kill my grandfather. Believeme."Warden Grouard was not about to take that on faith. I need backup! Trying his walkie-talkie again,he got only static. The entrance was still a good twenty yards behind him, and Grouard beganbacking up slowly, choosing to leave his gun trained on the man on the floor. As Grouard inchedbackward, he could see the woman across the room raising her UV light and scrutinizing a largepainting that hung on the far side of the Salle des Etats, directly opposite the Mona Lisa.
Grouard gasped, realizing which painting it was.
What in the name of God is she doing?
Across the room, Sophie Neveu felt a cold sweat breaking across her forehead. Langdon was stillspread-eagle on the floor. Hold on, Robert. Almost there. Knowing the guard would never actuallyshoot either of them, Sophie now turned her attention back to the matter at hand, scanning theentire area around one masterpiece in particular—another Da Vinci. But the UV light revealednothing out of the ordinary. Not on the floor, on the walls, or even on the canvas itself.
There must be something here!
Sophie felt totally certain she had deciphered her grandfather's intentions correctly.
What else could he possibly intend?
The masterpiece she was examining was a five-foot-tall canvas. The bizarre scene Da Vinci hadpainted included an awkwardly posed Virgin Mary sitting with Baby Jesus, John the Baptist, andthe Angel Uriel on a perilous outcropping of rocks. When Sophie was a little girl, no trip to theMona Lisa had been complete without her grandfather dragging her across the room to see thissecond painting.
Grand-père, I'm here! But I don't see it!
Behind her, Sophie could hear the guard trying to radio again for help.
Think!
She pictured the message scrawled on the protective glass of the Mona Lisa. So dark the con ofman. The painting before her had no protective glass on which to write a message, and Sophieknew her grandfather would never have defaced this masterpiece by writing on the painting itself.
She paused. At least not on the front. Her eyes shot upward, climbing the long cables that dangledfrom the ceiling to support the canvas.
Could that be it? Grabbing the left side of the carved wood frame, she pulled it toward her. Thepainting was large and the backing flexed as she swung it away from the wall. Sophie slipped herhead and shoulders in behind the painting and raised the black light to inspect the back.
It took only seconds to realize her instinct had been wrong. The back of the painting was pale andblank. There was no purple text here, only the mottled brown backside of aging canvas and—Wait.
Sophie's eyes locked on an incongruous glint of lustrous metal lodged near the bottom edge of theframe's wooden armature. The object was small, partially wedged in the slit where the canvas metthe frame. A shimmering gold chain dangled off it.
To Sophie's utter amazement, the chain was affixed to a familiar gold key. The broad, sculptedhead was in the shape of a cross and bore an engraved seal she had not seen since she was nineyears old. A fleur-de-lis with the initials P.S. In that instant, Sophie felt the ghost of her grandfatherwhispering in her ear. When the time comes, the key will be yours. A tightness gripped her throat asshe realized that her grandfather, even in death, had kept his promise. This key opens a box, hisvoice was saying, where I keep many secrets.
Sophie now realized that the entire purpose of tonight's word game had been this key. Hergrandfather had it with him when he was killed. Not wanting it to fall into the hands of the police,he hid it behind this painting. Then he devised an ingenious treasure hunt to ensure only Sophiewould find it.
"Au secours!" the guard's voice yelled.
Sophie snatched the key from behind the painting and slipped it deep in her pocket along with theUV penlight. Peering out from behind the canvas, she could see the guard was still tryingdesperately to raise someone on the walkie-talkie. He was backing toward the entrance, still aimingthe gun firmly at Langdon.
"Au secours!" he shouted again into his radio.
Static.
He can't transmit, Sophie realized, recalling that tourists with cell phones often got frustrated inhere when they tried to call home to brag about seeing the Mona Lisa. The extra surveillancewiring in the walls made it virtually impossible to get a carrier unless you stepped out into the hall.
The guard was backing quickly toward the exit now, and Sophie knew she had to act immediately.
Gazing up at the large painting behind which she was partially ensconced, Sophie realized thatLeonardo da Vinci, for the second time tonight, was there to help.
Another few meters, Grouard told himself, keeping his gun leveled.
"Arrêtez! Ou je la détruis!" the woman's voice echoed across the room.
Grouard glanced over and stopped in his tracks. "Mon dieu, non!"Through the reddish haze, he could see that the woman had actually lifted the large painting off itscables and propped it on the floor in front of her. At five feet tall, the canvas almost entirely hid herbody. Grouard's first thought was to wonder why the painting's trip wires hadn't set off alarms, butof course the artwork cable sensors had yet to be reset tonight. What is she doing!
When he saw it, his blood went cold.
The canvas started to bulge in the middle, the fragile outlines of the Virgin Mary, Baby Jesus, andJohn the Baptist beginning to distort.
"Non!" Grouard screamed, frozen in horror as he watched the priceless Da Vinci stretching. Thewoman was pushing her knee into the center of the canvas from behind! "NON!"Grouard wheeled and aimed his gun at her but instantly realized it was an empty threat. The canvaswas only fabric, but it was utterly impenetrable—a six-million-dollar piece of body armor.
I can't put a bullet through a Da Vinci!
"Set down your gun and radio," the woman said in calm French, "or I'll put my knee through thispainting. I think you know how my grandfather would feel about that."Grouard felt dizzy. "Please... no. That's Madonna of the Rocks!" He dropped his gun and radio,raising his hands over his head.
"Thank you," the woman said. "Now do exactly as I tell you, and everything will work out fine."Moments later, Langdon's pulse was still thundering as he ran beside Sophie down the emergencystairwell toward the ground level. Neither of them had said a word since leaving the tremblingLouvre guard lying in the Salle des Etats. The guard's pistol was now clutched tightly in Langdon'shands, and he couldn't wait to get rid of it. The weapon felt heavy and dangerously foreign.
Taking the stairs two at a time, Langdon wondered if Sophie had any idea how valuable a paintingshe had almost ruined. Her choice in art seemed eerily pertinent to tonight's adventure. The DaVinci she had grabbed, much like the Mona Lisa, was notorious among art historians for itsplethora of hidden pagan symbolism.
"You chose a valuable hostage," he said as they ran.
"Madonna of the Rocks," she replied. "But I didn't choose it, my grandfather did. He left me a littlesomething behind the painting."Langdon shot her a startled look. "What!? But how did you know which painting? Why Madonnaof the Rocks?""So dark the con of man." She flashed a triumphant smile. "I missed the first two anagrams,Robert. I wasn't about to miss the third."
保安人员克劳德。格鲁阿尔站在《蒙娜丽莎》前，看着这个被制服的俘虏无比愤怒。这个杂种杀了雅克。索尼埃。对格鲁阿尔和整个保安队的队员来说，索尼埃就像一位慈爱的父亲。
格鲁阿尔想立即扣动扳机，对罗伯特。兰登的后背来上一枪。格鲁阿尔是为数不多的真正荷枪实弹的高级保安人员之一。但他提醒自己，如果不让兰登接受贝祖。法希的审问，也不经受牢狱之苦就杀了他，倒是便宜了他。
格鲁阿尔拔出腰间的对讲机，大声请求派人支援。但对讲机中只有嘈杂的静电干扰声。这间展厅中附加的安全装置总是对保安人员的通讯产生干扰。我必须到门口去。格鲁阿尔一边用枪指着兰登，一边向门口退去。刚退出几步，他察觉到了些什么，停了下来。
那是什么？
在展厅的中间出现了一个奇怪的幻影。一个人影。还有其他人在？一个女人快步地在黑暗中穿行，向远处左边墙走去。她拿着紫光灯在身前来回晃动，好像在找什么感光的东西。
"什么人？"格鲁阿尔大喝道，又极度紧张起来。他一时间不知道应该将枪指向谁，也不知道应该往哪里移步了。
"PTS."那个女人镇静地回答，仍晃动着紫光灯，扫视着地面。
科技警察（PoliceTechniqueetScientifique）。格鲁阿尔冒出了冷汗。我还以为所有的警察都走了呢！他这才想起来，那紫光灯是紫外线灯，科技警察总是带着那家伙，但他还是不明白为什么警署要在这里寻找证据。
"你叫什么名字？"直觉告诉格鲁阿尔，此事蹊跷。"快说！"
"我叫索菲。奈芙。"那人用法语平静地回答。
这个名字在格鲁阿尔记忆深处留有一点儿印象。索菲。奈芙？这不是索尼埃孙女的名字吗？她很小的时候曾经来过这里，但那是很久以前的事了。不可能是她！就算她是索菲。奈芙，也不能信任她，因为格鲁阿尔已经听说索尼埃和孙女的关系决裂了。
"你知道我是谁。"那个女人大声说道。"罗伯特不是凶手。请相信我。"
克劳德。格鲁阿尔可没打算把她的话当真。我需要支援！他又听了听对讲机，里面还是静电干扰声。他离出口还足有二十码，他仍用枪指着趴在地上的兰登，向后退去。他一边退，一边注意着索菲，她正举着紫外线灯细细地打量着挂在《蒙娜丽莎》对面的那张大幅油画。
格鲁阿尔意识到那是什么画，倒吸了一口凉气。上帝呀，她到底想干什么？
索菲站在展厅的那头，额角直冒冷汗。兰登还趴在地上--像一只展翅的老鹰。坚持住，罗伯特。索菲知道格鲁阿尔不会向他们开枪，就又将注意力转到了手头的问题上。她特意用紫外线灯扫视达。芬奇的另一幅作品。她扫视了画前的地板，画周围的墙壁以及油画本身，但什么也没有发现。这儿一定会有些什么！
索菲坚信她可以正确地理解祖父的意图。他还可能会告诉我些什么呢？她正在审视的这幅油画有五英尺高，上面画的是坐在那里抱着婴儿耶稣的圣母玛丽娅、施洗者约翰和站在峭壁上的乌列天使。小时候，每次来看《蒙娜丽莎》，祖父都会把索菲拉到展厅这头也看一看这幅画。
祖父，我来了！可是我什么也没看见！
索菲听见格鲁阿尔又在通过对讲机请求支援了。
快点想！
她的脑海中又浮现出了《蒙娜丽莎》防护玻璃上的潦草字迹。男人的欺骗是多么黑暗。
眼前的这幅画前却没有可供写信息的防护玻璃，而索菲知道祖父绝不会直接在画上写字而损坏艺术品的。她愣了一下。至少不会在正面。她抬头看了看那从屋顶上垂下、用以悬挂油画的钢丝绳。
可能在画后面吗？她抓住油画木框，用力把画向自己身前拽。画很大，索菲将其从墙上掀起时，画布向前弯曲。索菲把头和肩膀都伸到了画布后面，举着紫外线灯审视画的背面。
很快，索菲就意识到自己想错了。油画背后一片空白，没有紫色的感光文字，只有陈旧画布上的点点棕褐的色斑--等一等。
索菲突然看见在靠近油画底部的木框上，有一个金属物发出耀眼的光。那个东西很小，嵌在木框与画布的空隙中，还拖着一条闪光的金链。索菲极为震惊，那正是挂在那把金钥匙上的链子。钥匙柄呈十字形，正面还刻着法国百合的图案和首字母缩写P.S.，这是索菲九岁以后第一次重见它。那一刻，索菲仿佛听见祖父的鬼魂在她耳边低语：有一天，我会将它给你。索菲的喉头像被什么东西哽住了，祖父死了，还不忘履行他的诺言。她听见祖父在说，它是用来开一个盒子的，在那盒子里藏着我的许多秘密。
索菲这才明白过来，今晚的那些文字游戏都是为这把钥匙而设的。祖父被害时，还带着那把钥匙。他不想让钥匙落人警方手中，所以将它藏到了这里，并精心设计了"寻宝"的密码，以确保索菲--也只有索菲--可以发现它。
"请求支援！"格鲁阿尔喊道。
索菲从油画背后拿起钥匙，将它连同紫外线灯一起放入口袋的深处。她向后瞟了一眼，发现格鲁阿尔还在拼命地试图通过对讲机找来援助。他背对着出口，仍然用枪指着兰登。
"请求支援！"格鲁阿尔再次大喊道。
只有静电的干扰声。
他无法与别人取得联系，索菲可以肯定，因为她知道，那些在这里想通过手机向家人炫耀自己看到了《蒙娜丽莎》的游客往往不能如愿。墙壁上特别附加的监控线路使移动通讯设备无法正常工作，要想通话，只有走出展厅，站到走廊中去。格鲁阿尔快步走出了展厅大门，这时索菲意识到她应该立刻采取行动。
抬头望了这幅遮住了她一部分身躯的大油画，索菲暗自思忖：看来今晚达。芬奇要帮我们第二次了。再走几米，格鲁阿尔暗暗告诫自己，要把枪端稳。
"别动！否则，我就毁了它！"那个女人的声音在展厅中回响。
格鲁阿尔循声望去，停住了脚步。"我的上帝呀，不！"
透过那雾蒙蒙的红色灯光，他看见那个女人已经将大幅油画从吊绳上取下，支在她面前。那五英尺高的画几乎把她整个人都挡住了。起先格鲁阿尔感到惊异--为什么吊绳上的电线没有接通警报呢？接着，他想起来今晚艺术展厅的警报系统还没有重新启动过。
她在干什么！
格鲁阿尔看着眼前的一切，惊讶得血液都要凝固了。
画布中间开始鼓了起来，那勾勒圣母玛丽娅、婴儿耶稣和施洗者约翰的细致线条开始扭曲了。
"不！"格鲁阿尔看着达。芬奇的无价画作被这样折腾，惊恐地叫道，那女人正用膝盖从背面抵着画布！
"不！"格鲁阿尔迅速转身，将枪对准索菲，但他又立即明白过来这是徒劳。画布虽然是纤维制成的，但实际上它是牢不可破的--它外面加了价值六百万美元的防护层。
我可不能对着达。芬奇的作品打一枪！
"把你的枪和对讲机都放下。"索菲用法语平静地说道。"否则我将用膝盖顶破这幅画。你一定知道如果祖父在天有灵的话，会有什么样的感受。"格鲁阿尔不知所措。"求你……不要。那是《岩间圣母》！"他把枪和对讲机扔在了地上，把手举过头顶。
"谢谢。"索菲说道。"现在照我说的做，一切都会很顺利的。"
几分钟后，当兰登和索菲逃到紧急楼梯通道里时，兰登的心还在怦怦地狂跳，他们离开那浑身打颤的保安人员，逃出国家展厅后，一句话也没说。兰登还紧紧地攥着保安人员的手枪，不过他迫不及待地想把它扔掉，因为那又沉又危险，感觉怪怪的。
兰登一边三步并做两步地逃，一边暗自猜测索菲是否知道那幅差点儿被她毁掉的画有多大的价值。她选的那幅画倒是与今晚的历险颇有关联。她所拿的那幅画，就像《蒙娜丽莎》一样，由于隐藏着太多的异教象征符号，而遭致了历史学家们的许多负面评价。
"你选的‘人质’价值连城呀。"兰登边跑边说。
"男人的欺骗是多么黑暗。"索菲得意地一笑。"罗伯特，我没解开前两个字谜，但我不会错过第三个。"