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Aringarosa looked at the briefcase filled with bonds and immediately looked away, feeling only shame. «Yes… thank you.» He paused while working his fingers across the seam of his bed sheet, then continued. «Captain, I have been giving this deep thought, and I need to ask a favor of you.»
«Of course.»
«The families of those in Paris who Silas…» He paused, swallowing the emotion. «I realize no sum could possibly serve as sufficient restitution, and yet, if you could be kind enough to divide the contents of this briefcase among them… the families of the deceased.»
Fache’s dark eyes studied him a long moment. «A virtuous gesture, My Lord. I will see to it your wishes are carried out.»
A heavy silence fell between them.
On the television, a lean French police officer was giving a press conference in front of a sprawling mansion. Fache saw who it was and turned his attention to the screen.
«Lieutenant Collet,» a BBC reporter said, her voice accusing. «Last night, your captain publicly charged two i
Lieutenant Collet’s smile was tired but calm. «It is my experience that Captain Bezu Fache seldom makes mistakes. I have not yet spoken to him on this matter, but knowing how he operates, I suspect his public manhunt for Agent Neveu and Mr. Langdon was part of a ruse to lure out the real killer.»
The reporters exchanged surprised looks.
Collet continued. «Whether or not Mr. Langdon and Agent Neveu were willing participants in the sting, I do not know. Captain Fache tends to keep his more creative methods to himself. All I can confirm at this point is that the captain has successfully arrested the man responsible, and that Mr. Langdon and Agent Neveu are both i
Fache had a faint smile on his lips as he turned back to Aringarosa. «A good man, that Collet.»
Several moments passed. Finally, Fache ran his hand over his forehead, slicking back his hair as he gazed down at Aringarosa. «My Lord, before I return to Paris, there is one final matter I’d like to discuss – your impromptu flight to London. You bribed a pilot to change course. In doing so, you broke a number of international laws.» Aringarosa slumped. «I was desperate.» «Yes. As was the pilot when my men interrogated him.» Fache reached in his pocket and produced a purple amethyst ring with a familiar hand-tooled mitre-crozier appliqué.
Aringarosa felt tears welling as he accepted the ring and slipped it back on his finger. «You’ve been so kind.» He held out his hand and clasped Fache’s. «Thank you.»
Fache waved off the gesture, walking to the window and gazing out at the city, his thoughts obviously far away. When he turned, there was an uncertainty about him. «My Lord, where do you go from here?»
Aringarosa had been asked the exact same question as he left Castel Gandolfo the night before. «I suspect my path is as uncertain as yours.»
«Yes.» Fache paused. «I suspect I will be retiring early.»
Aringarosa smiled. «A little faith can do wonders, Captain. A little faith.»
CHAPTER 104
Rosslyn Chapel – often called the Cathedral of Codes – stands seven miles south of Edinburgh, Scotland, on the site of an ancient Mithraic temple. Built by the Knights Templar in 1446, the chapel is engraved with a mind-boggling array of symbols from the Jewish, Christian, Egyptian, Masonic, and pagan traditions.
The chapel’s geographic coordinates fall precisely on the north-south meridian that runs through Glastonbury. This longitudinal Rose Line is the traditional marker of King Arthur’s Isle of Avalon and is considered the central pillar of Britain’s sacred geometry. It is from this hallowed Rose Line that Rosslyn – originally spelled Roslin – takes its name.
Rosslyn’s rugged spires were casting long evening shadows as Robert Langdon and Sophie Neveu pulled their rental car into the grassy parking area at the foot of the bluff on which the chapel stood. Their short flight from London to Edinburgh had been restful, although neither of them had slept for the anticipation of what lay ahead. Gazing up at the stark edifice framed against a cloud-swept sky, Langdon felt like Alice falling headlong into the rabbit hole. This must be a dream.And yet he knew the text of Saunière’s final message could not have been more specific.
The Holy Grail ‘neath ancient Roslin waits.
Langdon had fantasized that Saunière’s «Grail map» would be a diagram – a drawing with an X- marks-the-spot – and yet the Priory’s final secret had been unveiled in the same way Saunière had spoken to them from the begi
Despite the clarity of Saunière’s final revelation, Langdon had been left feeling more off balance than enlightened. To him, Rosslyn Chapel seemed far too obvious a location. For centuries, this stone chapel had echoed with whispers of the Holy Grail’s presence. The whispers had turned to shouts in recent decades when ground-penetrating radar revealed the presence of an astonishing structure beneath the chapel – a massive subterranean chamber. Not only did this deep vault dwarf the chapel atop it, but it appeared to have no entrance or exit. Archaeologists petitioned to begin blasting through the bedrock to reach the mysterious chamber, but the Rosslyn Trust expressly forbade any excavation of the sacred site. Of course, this only fueled the fires of speculation. What was the Rosslyn Trust trying to hide?
Rosslyn had now become a pilgrimage site for mystery seekers. Some claimed they were drawn here by the powerful magnetic field that emanated inexplicably from these coordinates, some claimed they came to search the hillside for a hidden entrance to the vault, but most admitted they had come simply to wander the grounds and absorb the lore of the Holy Grail.
Although Langdon had never been to Rosslyn before now, he always chuckled when he heard the chapel described as the current home of the Holy Grail. Admittedly, Rosslyn once might have been home to the Grail, long ago… but certainly no longer. Far too much attention had been drawn to Rosslyn in past decades, and sooner or later someone would find a way to break into the vault.
True Grail academics agreed that Rosslyn was a decoy – one of the devious dead ends the Priory crafted so convincingly. Tonight, however, with the Priory’s keystone offering a verse that pointed directly to this spot, Langdon no longer felt so smug. A perplexing question had been ru
Why would Saunière go to such effort to guide us to so obvious a location?
There seemed only one logical answer.
There is something about Rosslyn we have yet to understand.
«Robert?» Sophie was standing outside the car, looking back at him. «Are you corning?» She was holding the rosewood box, which Captain Fache had returned to them. Inside, both cryptexes had been reassembled and nested as they had been found. The papyrus verse was locked safely at its core – minus the shattered vial of vinegar.
Making their way up the long gravel path, Langdon and Sophie passed the famous west wall of the chapel. Casual visitors assumed this oddly protruding wall was a section of the chapel that had not been finished. The truth, Langdon recalled, was far more intriguing.
The west wall of Solomon’s Temple.
The Knights Templar had designed Rosslyn Chapel as an exact architectural blueprint of Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem – complete with a west wall, a narrow rectangular sanctuary, and a subterranean vault like the Holy of Holies, in which the original nine knights had first unearthed their priceless treasure. Langdon had to admit, there existed an intriguing symmetry in the idea of the Templars building a modern Grail repository that echoed the Grail’s original hiding place. Rosslyn Chapel’s entrance was more modest than Langdon expected. The small wooden door had two iron hinges and a simple, oak sign.