danbrown.thedavincicode-第77节

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lines　on　the　slip　of　paper　and　handed　it　to　Gettum。
　You　seek　the　orb　that　ought　be　on　his　tomb。
　It　speaks　of　Rosy　flesh　and　seeded　womb。
　　
　Gettum　gave　an　inward　smile。　The　Grail　indeed；　she　thought；　noting　the　references　to　the　Rose　and　her　seeded　womb。　〃I　can　help　you；〃　she　said；　looking　up　from　the　slip　of　paper。　〃Might　I　ask　where　this　verse　came　from？　And　why　you　are　seeking　an　orb？〃
　〃You　might　ask；〃　Langdon　said；　with　a　friendly　smile；　〃but　it's　a　long　story　and　we　have　very　little　time。〃
　〃Sounds　like　a　polite　way　of　saying　'mind　your　own　business。'　〃
　〃We　would　be　forever　in　your　debt；　Pamela；〃　Langdon　said；　〃if　you　could　find　out　who　this　knight　is　and　where　he　is　buried。〃
　〃Very　well；〃　Gettum　said；　typing　again。　〃I'll　play　along。　If　this　is　a　Grail…related　issue；　we　should　cross…reference　against　Grail　keywords。　I'll　add　a　proximity　parameter　and　remove　the　title　weighting。　That　will　limit　our　hits　only　to　those　instances　of　textual　keywords　that　occur　near　a　Grail…related　word。〃
　Search　for：　KNIGHT；　LONDON；　POPE；　TOMB
　Within　100　word　proximity　of：　GRAIL；　ROSE；　SANGREAL；　CHALICE
　　
　〃How　long　will　this　take？〃　Sophie　asked。
　〃A　few　hundred　terabytes　with　multiple　cross…referencing　fields？〃　Gettum's　eyes　glimmered　as　she　clicked　the　SEARCH　key。　〃A　mere　fifteen　minutes。〃
　Langdon　and　Sophie　said　nothing；　but　Gettum　sensed　this　sounded　like　an　eternity　to　them。
　〃Tea？〃　Gettum　asked；　standing　and　walking　toward　the　pot　she　had　made　earlier。　〃Leigh　always　loves　my　tea。〃
　　
　CHAPTER　93
　
　London's　Opus　Dei　Centre　is　a　modest　brick　building　at　5　Orme　Court；　overlooking　the　North　Walk　at　Kensington　Gardens。　Silas　had　never　been　here；　but　he　felt　a　rising　sense　of　refuge　and　asylum　as　he　approached　the　building　on　foot。　Despite　the　rain；　Rémy　had　dropped　him　off　a　short　distance　away　in　order　to　keep　the　limousine　off　the　main　streets。　Silas　didn't　mind　the　walk。　The　rain　was　cleansing。
　At　Rémy's　suggestion；　Silas　had　wiped　down　his　gun　and　disposed　of　it　through　a　sewer　grate。　He　was　glad　to　get　rid　of　it。　He　felt　lighter。　His　legs　still　ached　from　being　bound　all　that　time；　but　Silas　had　endured　far　greater　pain。　He　wondered；　though；　about　Teabing；　whom　Rémy　had　left　bound　in　the　back　of　the　limousine。　The　Briton　certainly　had　to　be　feeling　the　pain　by　now。
　〃What　will　you　do　with　him？〃　Silas　had　asked　Rémy　as　they　drove　over　here。
　Rémy　had　shrugged。　〃That　is　a　decision　for　the　Teacher。〃　There　was　an　odd　finality　in　his　tone。
　Now；　as　Silas　approached　the　Opus　Dei　building；　the　rain　began　to　fall　harder；　soaking　his　heavy　robe；　stinging　the　wounds　of　the　day　before。　He　was　ready　to　leave　behind　the　sins　of　the　last　twenty…four　hours　and　purge　his　soul。　His　work　was　done。
　Moving　across　a　small　courtyard　to　the　front　door；　Silas　was　not　surprised　to　find　the　door　unlocked。　He　opened　it　and　stepped　into　the　minimalist　foyer。　A　muted　electronic　chime　sounded　upstairs　as　Silas　stepped　onto　the　carpet。　The　bell　was　a　mon　feature　in　these　halls　where　the　residents　spent　most　of　the　day　in　their　rooms　in　prayer。　Silas　could　hear　movement　above　on　the　creaky　wood　floors。
　A　man　in　a　cloak　came　downstairs。　〃May　I　help　you？〃　He　had　kind　eyes　that　seemed　not　even　to　register　Silas's　startling　physical　appearance。
　〃Thank　you。　My　name　is　Silas。　I　am　an　Opus　Dei　numerary。〃
　〃American？〃
　Silas　nodded。　〃I　am　in　town　only　for　the　day。　Might　I　rest　here？〃
　〃You　need　not　even　ask。　There　are　two　empty　rooms　on　the　third　floor。　Shall　I　bring　you　some　tea　and　bread？〃
　〃Thank　you。〃　Silas　was　famished。
　Silas　went　upstairs　to　a　modest　room　with　a　window；　where　he　took　off　his　wet　robe　and　knelt　down　to　pray　in　his　undergarments。　He　heard　his　host　e　up　and　lay　a　tray　outside　his　door。　Silas　finished　his　prayers；　ate　his　food；　and　lay　down　to　sleep。
　　
　Three　stories　below；　a　phone　was　ringing。　The　Opus　Dei　numerary　who　had　weled　Silas　answered　the　line。
　〃This　is　the　London　police；〃　the　caller　said。　〃We　are　trying　to　find　an　albino　monk。　We've　had　a　tip…off　that　he　might　be　there。　Have　you　seen　him？〃
　The　numerary　was　startled。　〃Yes；　he　is　here。　Is　something　wrong？〃
　〃He　is　there　now？〃
　〃Yes；　upstairs　praying。　What　is　going　on？〃
　〃Leave　him　precisely　where　he　is；〃　the　officer　manded。　〃Don't　say　a　word　to　anyone。　I'm　sending　officers　over　right　away。〃
　　
　CHAPTER　94
　
　St。　James's　Park　is　a　sea　of　green　in　the　middle　of　London；　a　public　park　bordering　the　palaces　of　Westminster；　Buckingham；　and　St。　James's。　Once　enclosed　by　King　Henry　VIII　and　stocked　with　deer　for　the　hunt；　St。　James's　Park　is　now　open　to　the　public。　On　sunny　afternoons；　Londoners　picnic　beneath　the　willows　and　feed　the　pond's　resident　pelicans；　whose　ancestors　were　a　gift　to　Charles　II　from　the　Russian　ambassador。
　The　Teacher　saw　no　pelicans　today。　The　stormy　weather　had　brought　instead　seagulls　from　the　ocean。　The　lawns　were　covered　with　them…hundreds　of　white　bodies　all　facing　the　same　direction；　patiently　riding　out　the　damp　wind。　Despite　the　morning　fog；　the　park　afforded　splendid　views　of　the　Houses　of　Parliament　and　Big　Ben。　Gazing　across　the　sloping　lawns；　past　the　duck　pond　and　the　delicate　silhouettes　of　the　weeping　willows；　the　Teacher　could　see　the　spires　of　the　building　that　housed　the　knight's　tomb…the　real　reason　he　had　told　Rémy　to　e　to　this　spot。
　As　the　Teacher　approached　the　front　passenger　door　of　the　parked　limousine；　Rémy　leaned　across　and　opened　the　door。　The　Teacher　paused　outside；　taking　a　pull　from　the　flask　of　cognac　he　was　carrying。　Then；　dabbing　his　mouth；　he　slid　in　beside　Rémy　and　closed　the　door。
　Rémy　held　up　the　keystone　like　a　trophy。　〃It　was　almost　lost。〃
　〃You　have　done　well；〃　the　Teacher　said。
　〃We　have　done　well；〃　Rémy　replied；　laying　the　keystone　in　the　Teacher's　eager　hands。
　The　Teacher　admired　it　a　long　moment；　smiling。　〃And　the　gun？　You　wiped　it　down？〃
　〃Back　in　the　glove　box　where　I　found　it。〃
　〃Excellent。〃　The　Teacher　took　another　drink　of　cognac　and　handed　the　flask　to　Rémy。　〃Let's　toast　our　success。　The　end　is　near。〃
　　
　Rémy　accepted　the　bottle　gratefully。　The　cognac　tasted　salty；　but　Rémy　didn't　care。　He　and　the　Teacher　were　truly　partners　now。　He　could　feel　himself　ascending　to　a　higher　station　in　life。　I　will　never　be　a　servant　again。　As　Rémy　gazed　down　the　embankment　at　the　duck　pond　below；　Chateau　Villette　seemed　miles　away。
　Taking　another　swig　from　the　flask；　Rémy　could　feel　the　cognac　warming　his　blood。　The　warmth　in　Rémy's　throat；　however；　mutated　quickly　to　an　unfortable　heat。　Loosening　his　bow　tie；　Rémy　tasted　an　unpleasant　grittiness　and　handed　the　flask　back　to　the　Teacher。　〃I've　probably　had　enough；〃　he　managed；　weakly。
　Taking　the　flask；　the　Teacher　said；　〃Rémy；　as　you　are　aware；　you　are　the　only　one　who　knows　my　face。　I　placed　enormous　trust　in　you。〃
　〃Yes；〃　he　said；　feeling　feverish　as　he　loosened　his　tie　further。　〃And　your　identity　shall　go　with　me　to　the　grave。〃
　The　Teacher　was　silent　a　long　moment。　〃I　believe　you。〃　Pocketing　the　flask　and　the　keystone；　the　Teacher　reached　for　the　glove　box　and　pulled　out　the　tiny　Medusa　revolver。　For　an　instant；　Rémy　felt　a　surge　of　fear；　but　the　Teacher　simply　slipped　it　in　his　trousers　pocket。
　What　is　he　doing？　Rémy　felt　himself　sweating　suddenly。
　〃I　know　I　promised　you　freedom；〃　the　Teacher　said；　his　voice　now　sounding　regretful。　〃But　considering　your　circumstances；　this　is　the　best　I　can　do。〃
　The　swelling　in　Rémy's　throat　came　on　like　an　earthquake；　and　he　lurched　against　the　steering　column；　grabbing　his　throat　and　tasting　vomit　in　his　narrowing　esophagus。　He　let　out　a　muted　croak　of　a　scream；　not　even　loud　enough　to　be　heard　outside　the　car。　The　saltiness　in　the　cognac　now　registered。
　I'm　being　murdered！
　Incredulous；　Rémy　turned　to　see　the　Teacher　sitting　calmly　beside　him；　staring　straight　ahead　out　the　windshield。　Rémy's　eyesight　blurred；　and　he　gasped　for　breath。　I　made　everything　possible　for　him！　How　could　he　do　this！　Whether　the　Teacher　had　intended　to　kill　Rémy　all　along　or　whether　it　had　been　Rémy's　actions　in　the　Temple　Church　that　had　made　the　Teacher　lose　faith；　Rémy　would　never　know。　Terror　and　rage　coursed　through　him　now。　Rémy　tried　to　lunge　for　the　Teacher；　but　his　stiffening　body　could　barely　move。　I　trusted　you　with　everything！
　Rémy　tried　to　lift　his　clenched　fists　to　blow　the　horn；　but　instead　he　slipped　sideways；　rolling　onto　the　seat；　lying　on　his　side　beside　the　Teacher；　clutching　at　his　throat。　The　rain　fell　harder　now。　Rémy　could　no　longer　see；　but　he　could　sense　his　oxygen…deprived　brain　straining　to　cling　to　his　last　faint　shreds　of　lucidity。　As　his　world　slowly　went　black；　Rémy　Legaludec　could　have　sworn　he　heard　the　sounds　of　the　soft　Riviera　surf。
　　
　The　Teacher　stepped　from　the　limousine；　pleased　to　see　that　nobody　was　looking　in　his　direction。　I　had　no　choice；　he　told　himself；　surprised　how　little　remorse　he　felt　for　what　he　had　just　done。　Rémy　sealed　his　own　fate。　The　Teacher　had　feared　all　along　that　Rémy　might　need　to　be　eliminated　when　the　mission　was　plete；　but　by　brazenly　showing　himself　in　the　Temple　Church；　Rémy　had　accelerated　the　necessity　dramatically。　Robert　Langdon's　une