danbrown.thedavincicode-第6部分

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　on　your　book。〃
　Langdon　shook　his　head。　〃Actually；　nobody　yet　knows　about　my　manuscript。　It's　still　in　draft　form；　and　I　haven't　shown　it　to　anyone　except　my　editor。〃
　Fache　fell　silent。
　Langdon　did　not　add　the　reason　he　hadn't　yet　shown　the　manuscript　to　anyone　else。　The　three…hundred…page　draft…tentatively　titled　Symbols　of　the　Lost　Sacred　Feminine…proposed　some　very　unconventional　interpretations　of　established　religious　iconography　which　would　certainly　be　controversial。
　Now；　as　Langdon　approached　the　stationary　escalators；　he　paused；　realizing　Fache　was　no　longer　beside　him。　Turning；　Langdon　saw　Fache　standing　several　yards　back　at　a　service　elevator。
　〃We'll　take　the　elevator；〃　Fache　said　as　the　lift　doors　opened。　〃As　I'm　sure　you're　aware；　the　gallery　is　quite　a　distance　on　foot。〃
　Although　Langdon　knew　the　elevator　would　expedite　the　long；　two…story　climb　to　the　Denon　Wing；　he　remained　motionless。
　〃Is　something　wrong？〃　Fache　was　holding　the　door；　looking　impatient。
　Langdon　exhaled；　turning　a　longing　glance　back　up　the　open…air　escalator。　Nothing's　wrong　at　all；　he　lied　to　himself；　trudging　back　toward　the　elevator。　As　a　boy；　Langdon　had　fallen　down　an　abandoned　well　shaft　and　almost　died　treading　water　in　the　narrow　space　for　hours　before　being　rescued。　Since　then；　he'd　suffered　a　haunting　phobia　of　enclosed　spaces…elevators；　subways；　squash　courts。　The　elevator　is　a　perfectly　safe　machine；　Langdon　continually　told　himself；　never　believing　it。　It's　a　tiny　metal　box　hanging　in　an　enclosed　shaft！　Holding　his　breath；　he　stepped　into　the　lift；　feeling　the　familiar　tingle　of　adrenaline　as　the　doors　slid　shut。　Two　floors。　Ten　seconds。
　〃You　and　Mr。　Saunière；〃　Fache　said　as　the　lift　began　to　move；　〃you　never　spoke　at　all？　Never　corresponded？　Never　sent　each　other　anything　in　the　mail？〃
　Another　odd　question。　Langdon　shook　his　head。　〃No。　Never。〃　Fache　cocked　his　head；　as　if　making　a　mental　note　of　that　fact。　Saying　nothing；　he　stared　dead　ahead　at　the　chrome　doors。
　As　they　ascended；　Langdon　tried　to　focus　on　anything　other　than　the　four　walls　around　him。　In　the　reflection　of　the　shiny　elevator　door；　he　saw　the　captain's　tie　clip…a　silver　crucifix　with　thirteen　embedded　pieces　of　black　onyx。　Langdon　found　it　vaguely　surprising。　The　symbol　was　known　as　a　crux　gemmata…a　cross　bearing　thirteen　gems…a　Christian　ideogram　for　Christ　and　His　twelve　apostles。　Somehow　Langdon　had　not　expected　the　captain　of　the　French　police　to　broadcast　his　religion　so　openly。　Then　again；　this　was　France；　Christianity　was　not　a　religion　here　so　much　as　a　birthright。
　〃It's　a　crux　gemmata〃　Fache　said　suddenly。
　Startled；　Langdon　glanced　up　to　find　Fache's　eyes　on　him　in　the　reflection。
　The　elevator　jolted　to　a　stop；　and　the　doors　opened。
　Langdon　stepped　quickly　out　into　the　hallway；　eager　for　the　wide…open　space　afforded　by　the　famous　high　ceilings　of　the　Louvre　galleries。　The　world　into　which　he　stepped；　however；　was　nothing　like　he　expected。
　Surprised；　Langdon　stopped　short。
　Fache　glanced　over。　〃I　gather；　Mr。　Langdon；　you　have　never　seen　the　Louvre　after　hours？〃
　I　guess　not；　Langdon　thought；　trying　to　get　his　bearings。
　Usually　impeccably　illuminated；　the　Louvre　galleries　were　startlingly　dark　tonight。　Instead　of　the　customary　flat…white　light　flowing　down　from　above；　a　muted　red　glow　seemed　to　emanate　upward　from　the　baseboards…intermittent　patches　of　red　light　spilling　out　onto　the　tile　floors。
　As　Langdon　gazed　down　the　murky　corridor；　he　realized　he　should　have　anticipated　this　scene。　Virtually　all　major　galleries　employed　red　service　lighting　at　night…strategically　placed；　low…level；　noninvasive　lights　that　enabled　staff　members　to　navigate　hallways　and　yet　kept　the　paintings　in　relative　darkness　to　slow　the　fading　effects　of　overexposure　to　light。　Tonight；　the　museum　possessed　an　almost　oppressive　quality。　Long　shadows　encroached　everywhere；　and　the　usually　soaring　vaulted　ceilings　appeared　as　a　low；　black　void。
　〃This　way；〃　Fache　said；　turning　sharply　right　and　setting　out　through　a　series　of　interconnected　galleries。
　Langdon　followed；　his　vision　slowly　adjusting　to　the　dark。　All　around；　large…format　oils　began　to　materialize　like　photos　developing　before　him　in　an　enormous　darkroom。。。　their　eyes　following　as　he　moved　through　the　rooms。　He　could　taste　the　familiar　tang　of　museum　air…an　arid；　deionized　essence　that　carried　a　faint　hint　of　carbon…the　product　of　industrial；　coal…filter　dehumidifiers　that　ran　around　the　clock　to　counteract　the　corrosive　carbon　dioxide　exhaled　by　visitors。
　Mounted　high　on　the　walls；　the　visible　security　cameras　sent　a　clear　message　to　visitors：　We　see　you。　Do　not　touch　anything。
　〃Any　of　them　real？〃　Langdon　asked；　motioning　to　the　cameras。
　Fache　shook　his　head。　〃Of　course　not。〃
　Langdon　was　not　surprised。　Video　surveillance　in　museums　this　size　was　cost…prohibitive　and　ineffective。　With　acres　of　galleries　to　watch　over；　the　Louvre　would　require　several　hundred　technicians　simply　to　monitor　the　feeds。　Most　large　museums　now　used　〃containment　security。〃　Forget　keeping　thieves　out。　Keep　them　in。　Containment　was　activated　after　hours；　and　if　an　intruder　removed　a　piece　of　artwork；　partmentalized　exits　would　seal　around　that　gallery；　and　the　thief　would　find　himself　behind　bars　even　before　the　police　arrived。
　The　sound　of　voices　echoed　down　the　marble　corridor　up　ahead。　The　noise　seemed　to　be　ing　from　a　large　recessed　alcove　that　lay　ahead　on　the　right。　A　bright　light　spilled　out　into　the　hallway。
　〃Office　of　the　curator；〃　the　captain　said。
　As　he　and　Fache　drew　nearer　the　alcove；　Langdon　peered　down　a　short　hallway；　into　Saunière's　luxurious　study…warm　wood；　Old　Master　paintings；　and　an　enormous　antique　desk　on　which　stood　a　two…foot…tall　model　of　a　knight　in　full　armor。　A　handful　of　police　agents　bustled　about　the　room；　talking　on　phones　and　taking　notes。　One　of　them　was　seated　at　Saunière's　desk；　typing　into　a　laptop。　Apparently；　the　curator's　private　office　had　bee　DCPJ's　makeshift　mand　post　for　the　evening。
　〃Messieurs；〃　Fache　called　out；　and　the　men　turned。　〃Ne　nous　dérangez　pas　sous　aucun　prétexte。　Entendu？〃
　Everyone　inside　the　office　nodded　their　understanding。
　Langdon　had　hung　enough　NE　PAS　DERANGER　signs　on　hotel　room　doors　to　catch　the　gist　of　the　captain's　orders。　Fache　and　Langdon　were　not　to　be　disturbed　under　any　circumstances。
　Leaving　the　small　congregation　of　agents　behind；　Fache　led　Langdon　farther　down　the　darkened　hallway。　Thirty　yards　ahead　loomed　the　gateway　to　the　Louvre's　most　popular　section…la　Grande　Galerie…a　seemingly　endless　corridor　that　housed　the　Louvre's　most　valuable　Italian　masterpieces。　Langdon　had　already　discerned　that　this　was　where　Saunière's　body　lay；　the　Grand　Gallery's　famous　parquet　floor　had　been　unmistakable　in　the　Polaroid。
　As　they　approached；　Langdon　saw　the　entrance　was　blocked　by　an　enormous　steel　grate　that　looked　like　something　used　by　medieval　castles　to　keep　out　marauding　armies。
　〃Containment　security；〃　Fache　said；　as　they　neared　the　grate。
　Even　in　the　darkness；　the　barricade　looked　like　it　could　have　restrained　a　tank。　Arriving　outside；　Langdon　peered　through　the　bars　into　the　dimly　lit　caverns　of　the　Grand　Gallery。
　〃After　you；　Mr。　Langdon；〃　Fache　said。
　Langdon　turned。　After　me；　where？
　Fache　motioned　toward　the　floor　at　the　base　of　the　grate。
　Langdon　looked　down。　In　the　darkness；　he　hadn't　noticed。　The　barricade　was　raised　about　two　feet；　providing　an　awkward　clearance　underneath。
　〃This　area　is　still　off　limits　to　Louvre　security；〃　Fache　said。　〃My　team　from　Police　Technique　et　Scientifique　has　just　finished　their　investigation。〃　He　motioned　to　the　opening。　〃Please　slide　under。〃
　Langdon　stared　at　the　narrow　crawl　space　at　his　feet　and　then　up　at　the　massive　iron　grate。　He's　kidding；　right？　The　barricade　looked　like　a　guillotine　waiting　to　crush　intruders。
　Fache　grumbled　something　in　French　and　checked　his　watch。　Then　he　dropped　to　his　knees　and　slithered　his　bulky　frame　underneath　the　grate。　On　the　other　side；　he　stood　up　and　looked　back　through　the　bars　at　Langdon。
　Langdon　sighed。　Placing　his　palms　flat　on　the　polished　parquet；　he　lay　on　his　stomach　and