The Da Vinci Code

CHAPTER 91

Silas sat in the passenger seat of the parked Jaguar limousine near the Temple Church. His hands felt damp on the keystone as he waited for Remy to finish tying and gagging Teabing in back with the rope they had found in the trunk.

Finally, Remy climbed out of the rear of the limo, walked around, and slid into the driver’s seat beside Silas.

"Secure?" Silas asked.

Remy chuckled, shaking off the rain and glancing over his shoulder through the open partition at the crumpled form of Leigh Teabing, who was barely visible in the shadows in the rear. "He’s not going anywhere."

Silas could hear Teabing’s muffled cries and realized Remy had used some of the old duct tape to gag him.

"Ferme ta gueule!" Remy shouted over his shoulder at Teabing. Reaching to a control panel on the elaborate dash, Remy pressed a button. An opaque partition raised behind them, sealing off the back. Teabing disappeared, and his voice was silenced. Remy glanced at Silas. "I’ve been listening to his miserable whimpering long enough."

Minutes later, as the Jaguar stretch limo powered through the streets, Silas’s cell phone rang. TheTeacher.He answered excitedly. "Hello?"

"Silas," the Teacher’s familiar French accent said, "I am relieved to hear your voice. This means you are safe."

Silas was equally comforted to hear the Teacher. It had been hours, and the operation had veered wildly off course. Now, at last, it seemed to be back on track. "I have the keystone."

"This is superb news," the Teacher told him. "Is Remy with you?"

Silas was surprised to hear the Teacher use Remy’s name. "Yes. Remy freed me." "As I ordered him to do. I am only sorry you had to endure captivity for so long." "Physical discomfort has no meaning. The important thing is that the keystone is ours." "Yes. I need it delivered to me at once. Time is of the essence." Silas was eager to meet the Teacher face-to-face at last. "Yes, sir, I would be honored." "Silas, I would like Remy to bring it to me." Remy? Silas was crestfallen. After everything Silas had done for the Teacher, he had believed hewould be the one to hand over the prize. The Teacher favors Remy?

"I sense your disappointment," the Teacher said," which tells me you do not understand my meaning." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You must believe that I would much prefer to receive the keystone from you – a man of God rather than a criminal – but Remy must be dealt with. He disobeyed my orders and made a grave mistake that has put our entire mission at risk."

Silas felt a chill and glanced over at Remy. Kidnapping Teabing had not been part of the plan, and deciding what to do with him posed a new problem.

"You and I are men of God," the Teacher whispered. "We cannot be deterred from our goal." There was an ominous pause on the line. "For this reason alone, I will ask Remy to bring me the keystone. Do you understand?"

Silas sensed anger in the Teacher’s voice and was surprised the man was not more understanding. Showing his face could not be avoided, Silas thought. Remy did what he had to do.He saved the keystone. "I understand," Silas managed.

"Good. For your own safety, you need to get off the street immediately. The police will be looking for the limousine soon, and I do not want you caught. Opus Dei has a residence in London, no?" "Of course."

"And you are welcome there?" "As a brother." "Then go there and stay out of sight. I will call you the moment I am in possession of the keystone and have attended to my current problem."

"You are in London?"

"Do as I say, and everything will be fine." "Yes, sir." The Teacher heaved a sigh, as if what he now had to do was profoundly regrettable. "It’s time I speak to Remy."

Silas handed Remy the phone, sensing it might be the last call Remy Legaludec ever took.

As Remy took the phone, he knew this poor, twisted monk had no idea what fate awaited him now that he had served his purpose.

The Teacher used you, Silas.And your bishop is a pawn. Remy still marveled at the Teacher’s powers of persuasion. Bishop Aringarosa had trusted everything. He had been blinded by his own desperation. Aringarosa was far too eager to believe. Although Remy did not particularly like the Teacher, he felt pride at having gained the man’s trust and helped him so substantially. I have earned my payday.

"Listen carefully," the Teacher said. "Take Silas to the Opus Dei residence hall and drop him off a few streets away. Then drive to St. James’s Park. It is adjacent to Parliament and Big Ben. You can park the limousine on Horse Guards Parade. We’ll talk there."

With that, the connection went dead.

CHAPTER 92

King’s College, established by King George IV in 1829, houses its Department of Theology and Religious Studies adjacent to Parliament on property granted by the Crown. King’s College Religion Department boasts not only 150 years’ experience in teaching and research, but the 1982 establishment of the Research Institute in Systematic Theology, which possesses one of the most complete and electronically advanced religious research libraries in the world.

Langdon still felt shaky as he and Sophie came in from the rain and entered the library. The primary research room was as Teabing had described it – a dramatic octagonal chamber dominated by an enormous round table around which King Arthur and his knights might have been comfortable were it not for the presence of twelve flat-screen computer workstations. On the far side of the room, a reference librarian was just pouring a pot of tea and settling in for her day of work.

"Lovely morning," she said in a cheerful British accent, leaving the tea and walking over. "May I help you?"

"Thank you, yes," Langdon replied. "My name is – Robert Langdon." She gave a pleasant smile. "I know who you are."

For an instant, he feared Fache had put him on English television as well, but the librarian’s smile suggested otherwise. Langdon still had not gotten used to these moments of unexpected celebrity. Then again, if anyone on earth were going to recognize his face, it would be a librarian in a Religious Studies reference facility.

"Pamela Gettum," the librarian said, offering her hand. She had a genial, erudite face and a pleasingly fluid voice. The horn-rimmed glasses hanging around her neck were thick.

"A pleasure," Langdon said. "This is my friend Sophie Neveu."

The two women greeted one another, and Gettum turned immediately back to Langdon. "I didn’t know you were coming."

"Neither did we. If it’s not too much trouble, we could really use your help finding some information."

Gettum shifted, looking uncertain. "Normally our services are by petition and appointment only, unless of course you’re the guest of someone at the college?"

Langdon shook his head. "I’m afraid we’ve come unannounced. A friend of mine speaks very highly of you. Sir Leigh Teabing?" Langdon felt a pang of gloom as he said the name. "The British Royal Historian."

Gettum brightened now, laughing. "Heavens, yes. What a character. Fanatical! Every time he comes in, it’s always the same search strings. Grail. Grail. Grail. I swear that man will die before he gives up on that quest." She winked. "Time and money afford one such lovely luxuries, wouldn’t you say? A regular Don Quixote, that one."

"Is there any chance you can help us?" Sophie asked. "It’s quite important."

Gettum glanced around the deserted library and then winked at them both. "Well, I can’t very well claim I’m too busy, now can I? As long as you sign in, I can’t imagine anyone being too upset. What did you have in mind?"