danbrown.thedavincicode-第87部分

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e　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　unexpected　visit　to　Chateau　Villette　had　brought　the　Teacher　both　a　fortuitous　windfall　and　an　intricate　dilemma。　Langdon　had　delivered　the　keystone　directly　to　the　heart　of　the　operation；　which　was　a　pleasant　surprise；　and　yet　he　had　brought　the　police　on　his　tail。　Rémy's　prints　were　all　over　Chateau　Villette；　as　well　as　in　the　barn's　listening　post；　where　Rémy　had　carried　out　the　surveillance。　The　Teacher　was　grateful　he　had　taken　so　much　care　in　preventing　any　ties　between　Rémy's　activities　and　his　own。　Nobody　could　implicate　the　Teacher　unless　Rémy　talked；　and　that　was　no　longer　a　concern。
　One　more　loose　end　to　tie　up　here；　the　Teacher　thought；　moving　now　toward　the　rear　door　of　the　limousine。　The　police　will　have　no　idea　what　happened。。。　and　no　living　witness　left　to　tell　them。　Glancing　around　to　ensure　nobody　was　watching；　he　pulled　open　the　door　and　climbed　into　the　spacious　rear　partment。
　　
　Minutes　later；　the　Teacher　was　crossing　St。　James's　Park。　Only　two　people　now　remain。　Langdon　and　Neveu。　They　were　more　plicated。　But　manageable。　At　the　moment；　however；　the　Teacher　had　the　cryptex　to　attend　to。
　Gazing　triumphantly　across　the　park；　he　could　see　his　destination。　In　London　lies　a　knight　a　Pope　interred。　As　soon　as　the　Teacher　had　heard　the　poem；　he　had　known　the　answer。　Even　so；　that　the　others　had　not　figured　it　out　was　not　surprising。　I　have　an　unfair　advantage。　Having　listened　to　Saunière's　conversations　for　months　now；　the　Teacher　had　heard　the　Grand　Master　mention　this　famous　knight　on　occasion；　expressing　esteem　almost　matching　that　he　held　for　Da　Vinci。　The　poem's　reference　to　the　knight　was　brutally　simple　once　one　saw　it…a　credit　to　Saunière's　wit…and　yet　how　this　tomb　would　reveal　the　final　password　was　still　a　mystery。
　You　seek　the　orb　that　ought　be　on　his　tomb。
　The　Teacher　vaguely　recalled　photos　of　the　famous　tomb　and；　in　particular；　its　most　distinguishing　feature。　A　magnificent　orb。　The　huge　sphere　mounted　atop　the　tomb　was　almost　as　large　as　the　tomb　itself。　The　presence　of　the　orb　seemed　both　encouraging　and　troubling　to　the　Teacher。　On　one　hand；　it　felt　like　a　signpost；　and　yet；　according　to　the　poem；　the　missing　piece　of　the　puzzle　was　an　orb　that　ought　to　be　on　his　tomb。。。　not　one　that　was　already　there。　He　was　counting　on　his　closer　inspection　of　the　tomb　to　unveil　the　answer。
　The　rain　was　getting　heavier　now；　and　he　tucked　the　cryptex　deep　in　his　right…hand　pocket　to　protect　it　from　the　dampness。　He　kept　the　tiny　Medusa　revolver　in　his　left；　out　of　sight。　Within　minutes；　he　was　stepping　into　the　quiet　sanctuary　of　London's　grandest　nine…hundred…year…old　building。
　　
　Just　as　the　Teacher　was　stepping　out　of　the　rain；　Bishop　Aringarosa　was　stepping　into　it。　On　the　rainy　tarmac　at　Biggin　Hill　Executive　Airport；　Aringarosa　emerged　from　his　cramped　plane；　bundling　his　cassock　against　the　cold　damp。　He　had　hoped　to　be　greeted　by　Captain　Fache。　Instead　a　young　British　police　officer　approached　with　an　umbrella。
　〃Bishop　Aringarosa？　Captain　Fache　had　to　leave。　He　a