danbrown.angels&demons-第57部分

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　〃Who's　the　dapper？〃
　Chinita　moved　in　for　a　close…up。　〃Haven't　seen　him　before。〃　She　tightened　in　on　the　man's　face　and　smiled。　〃But　I　wouldn't　mind　seeing　him　again。〃
　
　Robert　Langdon　dashed　down　the　stairs　outside　the　church　and　into　the　middle　of　the　piazza。　It　was　getting　dark　now；　the　springtime　sun　setting　late　in　southern　Rome。　The　sun　had　dropped　below　the　surrounding　buildings；　and　shadows　streaked　the　square。　
　〃Okay；　Bernini；〃　he　said　aloud　to　himself。　〃Where　the　hell　is　your　angel　pointing？〃
　He　turned　and　examined　the　orientation　of　the　church　from　which　he　had　just　e。　He　pictured　the　Chigi　Chapel　inside；　and　the　sculpture　of　the　angel　inside　that。　Without　hesitation　he　turned　due　west；　into　the　glow　of　the　impending　sunset。　Time　was　evaporating。
　〃Southwest；〃　he　said；　scowling　at　the　shops　and　apartments　blocking　his　view。　〃The　next　marker　is　out　there。〃　
　Racking　his　brain；　Langdon　pictured　page　after　page　of　Italian　art　history。　Although　very　familiar　with　Bernini's　work；　Langdon　knew　the　sculptor　had　been　far　too　prolific　for　any　nonspecialist　to　know　all　of　it。　Still；　considering　the　relative　fame　of　the　first　marker…Habakkuk　and　the　Angel…Langdon　hoped　the　second　marker　was　a　work　he　might　know　from　memory。　
　Earth；　Air；　Fire；　Water；　he　thought。　Earth　they　had　found…inside　the　Chapel　of　the　Earth…Habakkuk；　the　prophet　who　predicted　the　earth's　annihilation。　
　Air　is　next。　Langdon　urged　himself　to　think。　A　Bernini　sculpture　that　has　something　to　do　with　Air！　He　was　drawing　a　total　blank。　Still　he　felt　energized。　I'm　on　the　path　of　Illumination！　It　is　still　intact！　
　Looking　southwest；　Langdon　strained　to　see　a　spire　or　cathedral　tower　jutting　up　over　the　obstacles。　He　saw　nothing。　He　needed　a　map。　If　they　could　figure　out　what　churches　were　southwest　of　here；　maybe　one　of　them　would　spark　Langdon's　memory。　Air；　he　pressed。　Air。　Bernini。　Sculpture。　Air。　Think！　
　Langdon　turned　and　headed　back　up　the　cathedral　stairs。　He　was　met　beneath　the　scaffolding　by　Vittoria　and　Olivetti。　
　〃Southwest；〃　Langdon　said；　panting。　〃The　next　church　is　southwest　of　here。〃
　Olivetti's　whisper　was　cold。　〃You　sure　this　time？〃
　Langdon　didn't　bite。　〃We　need　a　map。　One　that　shows　all　the　churches　in　Rome。〃
　The　mander　studied　him　a　moment；　his　expression　never　changing。　
　Langdon　checked　his　watch。　〃We　only　have　half　an　hour。〃
　Olivetti　moved　past　Langdon　down　the　stairs　toward　his　car；　parked　directly　in　front　of　the　cathedral。　Langdon　hoped　he　was　going　for　a　map。
　Vittoria　looked　excited。　〃So　the　angel's　pointing　southwest？　No　idea　which　churches　are　southwest？〃　
　〃I　can't　see　past　the　damn　buildings。〃　Langdon　turned　and　faced　the　square　again。　〃And　I　don't　know　Rome's　churches　well　enou…〃　He　stopped。
　Vittoria　looked　startled。　〃What？〃
　Langdon　looked　out　at　the　piazza　again。　Having　ascended　the　church　stairs；　he　was　now　higher；　and　his　view　was　better。　He　still　couldn't　see　anything；　but　he　realized　he　was　moving　in　the　right　direction。　His　eyes　climbed　the　tower　of　rickety　scaffolding　above　him。　It　rose　six　stories；　almost　to　the　top　of　the　church's　rose　window；　far　higher　than　the　other　buildings　in　the　square。　He　knew　in　an　instant　where　he　was　headed。
　
　Across　the　square；　Chinita　Macri　and　Gunther　Glick　sat　glued　to　the　windshield　of　the　BBC　van。　
　〃You　getting　this？〃　Gunther　asked。　
　Macri　tightened　her　shot　on　the　man　now　climbing　the　scaffolding。　〃He's　a　little　well　dressed　to　be　playing　Spiderman　if　you　ask　me。〃
　〃And　who's　Ms。　Spidey？〃　
　Chinita　glanced　at　the　attractive　woman　beneath　the　scaffolding。　〃Bet　you'd　like　to　find　out。〃
　〃Think　I　should　call　editorial？〃
　〃Not　yet。　Let's　watch。　Better　to　have　something　in　the　can　before　we　admit　we　abandoned　conclave。〃
　〃You　think　somebody　really　killed　one　of　the　old　farts　in　there？〃
　Chinita　clucked。　〃You're　definitely　going　to　hell。〃
　〃And　I'll　be　taking　the　Pulitzer　with　me。〃
　
　71　

　The　scaffolding　seemed　less　stable　the　higher　Langdon　climbed。　His　view　of　Rome；　however；　got　better　with　every　step。　He　continued　upward。　
　He　was　breathing　harder　than　he　expected　when　he　reached　the　upper　tier。　He　pulled　himself　onto　the　last　platform；　brushed　off　the　plaster；　and　stood　up。　The　height　did　not　bother　him　at　all。　In　fact；　it　was　invigorating。
　The　view　was　staggering。　Like　an　ocean　on　fire；　the　red…tiled　rooftops　of　Rome　spread　out　before　him；　glowing　in　the　scarlet　sunset。　From　that　spot；　for　the　first　time　in　his　life；　Langdon　saw　beyond　the　pollution　and　traffic　of　Rome　to　its　ancient　roots…Cittа　di　Dio…The　city　of　God。
　Squinting　into　the　sunset；　Langdon　scanned　the　rooftops　for　a　church　steeple　or　bell　tower。　But　as　he　looked　farther　and　farther　toward　the　horizon；　he　saw　nothing。　There　are　hundreds　of　churches　in　Rome；　he　thought。　There　must　be　one　southwest　of　here！　If　the　church　is　even　visible；　he　reminded　himself。　Hell；　if　the　church　is　even　still　standing！　
　Forcing　his　eyes　to　trace　the　line　slowly；　he　attempted　the　search　again。　He　knew；　of　course；　that　not　all　churches　would　have　visible　spires；　especially　smaller；　out…of…the…way　sanctuaries。　Not　to　mention；　Rome　had　changed　dramatically　since　the　1600s　when　churches　were　by　law　the　tallest　buildings　allowed。　Now；　as　Langdon　looked　out；　he　saw　apartment　buildings；　high…rises；　TV　towers。
　For　the　second　time；　Langdon's　eye　reached　the　horizon　without　seeing　anything。　Not　one　single　spire。　In　the　distance；　on　the　very　edge　of　Rome；　Michelangelo's　massive　dome　blotted　the　setting　sun。　St。　Peter's　Basilica。　Vatican　City。　Langdon　found　himself　wondering　how　the　cardinals　were　faring；　and　if　the　Swiss　Guards'　search　had　turned　up　the　antimatter。　Something　told　him　it　hadn't　。　。　。　and　wouldn't。
　The　poem　was　rattling　through　his　head　again。　He　considered　it；　carefully；　line　by　line。　From　Santi's　earthly　tomb　with　demon's　hole。　They　had　found　Santi's　tomb。　'Cross　Rome　the　mystic　elements　unfold。　The　mystic　elements　were　Earth；　Air；　Fire；　Water。　The　path　of　light　is　laid；　the　sacred　test。　The　path　of　Illumination　formed　by　Bernini's　sculptures。　Let　angels　guide　you　on　your　lofty　quest。　
　The　angel　was　pointing　southwest　。　。　。　
　
　〃Front　stairs！〃　Glick　exclaimed；　pointing　wildly　through　the　windshield　of　the　BBC　van。　〃Something's　going　on！〃
　Macri　dropped　her　shot　back　down　to　the　main　entrance。　Something　was　definitely　going　on。　At　the　bottom　of　the　stairs；　the　military…looking　man　had　pulled　one　of　the　Alpha　Romeos　close　to　the　stairs　and　opened　the　trunk。　Now　he　was　scanning　the　square　as　if　checking　for　onlookers。　For　a　moment；　Macri　thought　the　man　had　spotted　them；　but　his　eyes　kept　moving。　Apparently　satisfied；　he　pulled　out　a　walkie…talkie　and　spoke　into　it。　
　Almost　instantly；　it　seemed　an　army　emerged　from　the　church。　Like　an　American　football　team　breaking　from　a　huddle；　the　soldiers　formed　a　straight　line　across　the　top　of　the　stairs。　Moving　like　a　human　wall；　they　began　to　descend。　Behind　them；　almost　entirely　hidden　by　the　wall；　four　soldiers　seemed　to　be　carrying　something。　Something　heavy。　Awkward。
　Glick　leaned　forward　on　the　dashboard。　〃Are　they　stealing　something　from　the　church？〃
　Chinita　tightened　her　shot　even　more；　using　the　telephoto　to　probe　the　wall　of　men；　looking　for　an　opening。　One　split　second；　she　willed。　A　single　frame。　That's　all　I　need。　But　the　men　moved　as　one。　e　on！　Macri　stayed　with　them；　and　it　paid　off。　When　the　soldiers　tried　to　lift　the　object　into　the　trunk；　Macri　found　her　opening。　Ironically；　it　was　the　older　man　who　faltered。　Only　for　an　instant；　but　long　enough。　Macri　had　her　frame。　Actually；　it　was　more　like　ten　frames。　
　〃Call　editorial；〃　Chinita　said。　〃We've　got　a　dead　body。〃
　
　Far　away；　at　CERN；　Maximilian　Kohler　maneuvered　his　wheelchair　into　Leonardo　Vetra's　study。　With　mechanical　efficiency；　he　began　sifting　through　Vetra's　files。　Not　finding　what　he　was　after；　Kohler　moved　to　Vetra's　bedroom。　The　top　drawer　of　his　bedside　table　was　locked。　Kohler　pried　it　open　with　a　knife　from　the　kitchen。　
　Inside　Kohler　found　exactly　what　he　was　looking　for。
　
　72

　Langdon　swung　off　the　scaffolding　and　dropped　back　to　the　ground。　He　brushed　the　plaster　dust　from　his　clothes