"Une plaisanterie numérique?" Bezu Fache was livid, glaring at Sophie Neveu in disbelief. A numeric joke? "Your professional assessment1 of Saunière's code is that it is some kind of mathematical prank2?"
Fache was in utter incomprehension of this woman's gall3. Not only had she just barged in on Fache without permission, but she was now trying to convince him that Saunière, in his final moments of life, had been inspired to leave a mathematical gag?
"This code," Sophie explained in rapid French, "is simplistic to the point of absurdity4. Jacques Saunière must have known we would see through it immediately." She pulled a scrap5 of paper from her sweater pocket and handed it to Fache. "Here is the decryption."
Fache looked at the card.
1-1-2-3-5-8-13-21
"This is it?" he snapped. "All you did was put the numbers in increasing order!"
Sophie actually had the nerve to give a satisfied smile. "Exactly."
Fache's tone lowered to a guttural rumble6. "Agent Neveu, I have no idea where the hell you're going with this, but I suggest you get there fast." He shot an anxious glance at Langdon, who stood nearby with the phone pressed to his ear, apparently7 still listening to his phone message from the U.S. Embassy. From Langdon's ashen8 expression, Fache sensed the news was bad.
"Captain," Sophie said, her tone dangerously defiant9, "the sequence of numbers you have in your hand happens to be one of the most famous mathematical progressions in history."
Fache was not aware there even existed a mathematical progression that qualified10 as famous, and he certainly didn't appreciate Sophie's off-handed tone.
"This is the Fibonacci sequence," she declared, nodding toward the piece of paper in Fache's hand. "A progression in which each term is equal to the sum of the two preceding terms."
Fache studied the numbers. Each term was indeed the sum of the two previous, and yet Fache could not imagine what the relevance11 of all this was to Saunière's death.
"Mathematician12 Leonardo Fibonacci created this succession of numbers in the thirteenth-century. Obviously there can be no coincidence that all of the numbers Saunière wrote on the floor belong to Fibonacci's famous sequence."
Fache stared at the young woman for several moments. "Fine, if there is no coincidence, would you tell me why Jacques Saunière chose to do this. What is he saying? What does this mean?"
She shrugged13. "Absolutely nothing. That's the point. It's a simplistic cryptographic joke. Like taking the words of a famous poem and shuffling14 them at random15 to see if anyone recognizes what all the words have in common."
Fache took a menacing step forward, placing his face only inches from Sophie's. "I certainly hope you have a much more satisfying explanation than that."
Sophie's soft features grew surprisingly stern as she leaned in. "Captain, considering what you have at stake here tonight, I thought you might appreciate knowing that Jacques Saunière might be playing games with you. Apparently not. I'll inform the director of Cryptography you no longer need our services."
With that, she turned on her heel, and marched off the way she had come.
Stunned16, Fache watched her disappear into the darkness. Is she out of her mind? Sophie Neveu had just redefined le suicide professionnel.
Fache turned to Langdon, who was still on the phone, looking more concerned than before, listening intently to his phone message. The U.S. Embassy. Bezu Fache despised many things... but few drew more wrath17 than the U.S. Embassy.
Fache and the ambassador locked horns regularly over shared affairs of state—their most common battleground being law enforcement for visiting Americans. Almost daily, DCPJ arrested American exchange students in possession of drugs, U.S. businessmen for soliciting18 underage Prostitutes, American tourists for shoplifting or destruction of property. Legally, the U.S. Embassy could intervene and extradite guilty citizens back to the United States, where they received nothing more than a slap on the wrist.
And the embassy invariably did just that.
L'émasculation de la Police Judiciaire, Fache called it. Paris Match had run a cartoon recently depicting19 Fache as a police dog, trying to bite an American criminal, but unable to reach because it was chained to the U.S. Embassy.
Not tonight, Fache told himself. There is far too much at stake.
By the time Robert Langdon hung up the phone, he looked ill.
"Is everything all right?" Fache asked.
Weakly, Langdon shook his head.
Bad news from home, Fache sensed, noticing Langdon was sweating slightly as Fache took back his cell phone.
"An accident," Langdon stammered20, looking at Fache with a strange expression. "A friend..." He hesitated. "I'll need to fly home first thing in the morning."
Fache had no doubt the shock on Langdon's face was genuine, and yet he sensed another emotion there too, as if a distant fear were suddenly simmering in the American's eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that," Fache said, watching Langdon closely. "Would you like to sit down?" He motioned toward one of the viewing benches in the gallery.
Langdon nodded absently and took a few steps toward the bench. He paused, looking more confused with every moment. "Actually, I think I'd like to use the rest room."
Fache frowned inwardly at the delay. "The rest room. Of course. Let's take a break for a few minutes." He motioned back down the long hallway in the direction they had come from. "The rest rooms are back toward the curator's office."
Langdon hesitated, pointing in the other direction toward the far end of the Grand Gallery corridor. "I believe there's a much closer rest room at the end."
Fache realized Langdon was right. They were two thirds of the way down, and the Grand Gallery dead-ended at a pair of rest rooms. "Shall I accompany you?"
Langdon shook his head, already moving deeper into the gallery. "Not necessary. I think I'd like a few minutes alone."
Fache was not wild about the idea of Langdon wandering alone down the remaining length of corridor, but he took comfort in knowing the Grand Gallery was a dead end whose only exit was at the other end—the gate under which they had entered. Although French fire regulations required several emergency stairwells for a space this large, those stairwells had been sealed automatically when Saunière tripped the security system. Granted, that system had now been reset21, unlocking the stairwells, but it didn't matter—the external doors, if opened, would set off fire alarms and were guarded outside by DCPJ agents. Langdon could not possibly leave without Fache knowing about it.
"I need to return to Mr. Saunière's office for a moment," Fache said. "Please come find me directly, Mr. Langdon. There is more we need to discuss."
Langdon gave a quiet wave as he disappeared into the darkness.
Turning, Fache marched angrily in the opposite direction. Arriving at the gate, he slid under, exited the Grand Gallery, marched down the hall, and stormed into the command center at Saunière's office.
"Who gave the approval to let Sophie Neveu into this building!" Fache bellowed22.
Collet was the first to answer. "She told the guards outside she'd broken the code."
Fache looked around. "Is she gone?"
"She's not with you?"
"She left." Fache glanced out at the darkened hallway. Apparently Sophie had been in no mood to stop by and chat with the other officers on her way out.
For a moment, Fache considered radioing the guards in the entresol and telling them to stop Sophie and drag her back up here before she could leave the premises23. He thought better of it. That was only his pride talking... wanting the last word. He'd had enough distractions24 tonight.
Deal with Agent Neveu later, he told himself, already looking forward to firing her.
Pushing Sophie from his mind, Fache stared for a moment at the miniature knight25 standing26 on Saunière's desk. Then he turned back to Collet. "Do you have him?"
Collet gave a curt27 nod and spun28 the laptop toward Fache. The red dot was clearly visible on the floor plan overlay, blinking methodically in a room marked TOILETTES PUBLIQUES.
"Good," Fache said, lighting29 a cigarette and stalking into the hall. I've got a phone call to make. Be damned sure the rest room is the only place Langdon goes."
"只是一个数字玩笑？"贝祖。法希脸色铁青，怒视着索菲。奈芙，一点也不相信这种说法。？"你对索尼埃密码所做出的职业判断就是一种数学恶作剧？"
法希一点也不明白为什么这个女人如此莽撞。她不仅不经允许擅自闯入画廊来找法希，而且还在试图让他相信索尼埃在生命的最后时刻还突发灵感，为世人留下一个数学玩笑？
"这个密码。"索菲很快用法语解释道。"简直容易到荒唐的地步。雅克。索尼埃一定知道我们很快就会破译它。"她从羊毛衫口袋里取出一张小纸片递给法希。"这是破译结果。"法希看了看纸片：1－1－2－3－5－8－13－21"就这个"，他厉斥道。"你只是把这些数字按升序排列起来。"
索菲却满不在乎地、满意地微笑道："正是这样。"
法希压低了嗓门，声音如滚滚闷雷似的说："奈芙警士，我不明白这究竟能说明什么问题。但是我建议你立刻到那边去。"他焦虑地看了兰登一眼。兰登正站在附近，手机紧贴着耳朵，显然还在听美国大使馆的留言。从兰登煞白的脸色，法希能感觉到消息不妙。
"局长。"索菲冒险以挑战性的语气说。"你手里的这一组数字正好是数学史上最著名的一个数列。"法希不知道竟然还有称得上"著名"的数列，而且他当然不喜欢索菲简慢的语气。
"这是斐波那契数列。"她朝法希手里的纸片点头说。"这是一个整数数列，其中每个数等于前面的两数之和。"法希研究了一下这些数字。每个数字的确是前两项之和，但法希想象不出这和索尼埃的死有什么联系。
"数学家列奥那多。斐波那契在13 世纪创设了这个数列。索尼埃写在地板上的所有数字都属于斐波那契数列，显然，这绝非巧合。"法希盯着这位年轻女人看了一会儿。"好极了，如果不是巧合，那么请你告诉我，雅克。索尼埃为什么非要那样做？他到底想说什么？这表示什么？"
她耸耸肩。"什么也不表示。问题就在这儿。它只是一个极简单的密码玩笑。这正如把一首名诗的词重新随机打乱看看是否有人能辨认出这些词有什么共同之处一样。"法希威胁性地向前迈了一步，他的脸离索菲的脸只有几英寸远。"我真希望你能给出一个比那更令人满意的解释。"索菲也同样倾斜着身子，本来温柔的面孔变得异常严峻。"局长，鉴于你今夜在此的窘境，我本以为你或许乐意知道雅克。索尼埃或许在和你玩个游戏。看来，显然你不喜欢这个解释。我会告诉密码部主任你不再需要我们的服务。"说完这些，她转身往她来的方向走了。
法希呆住了，看着她消失在黑暗之中。她疯了吗？索菲。奈芙刚刚重新解释过"职业自杀"。
法希又转向兰登。兰登还在认真听电话留言，看起来比刚才更焦虑。美国大使馆，贝祖。法希讨厌很多东西，但没有比美国大使馆更令他恼火的了。
法希和大使经常在涉及双方的事情上较劲--最常见的"战场"是在对美国游客的执法问题上。几乎天天法国司法警察都会逮捕私自拥有毒品的美国留学生、勾引雏妓的生意人、偷窃或毁坏财物的游客。在从法律上来讲，美国大使馆可以干预并将犯罪的美国公民引渡回国，而在美国他们只受到些轻描淡写的惩罚。大使馆总是把犯罪的美国人引渡回国。
这是阉割司法警察，法希总是这样说。《巴黎赛事》最近曾登载了一幅漫画，把法希描绘成一条狗，它试图咬一名美国罪犯，可是够不着，因为它被拴在美国大使馆。
今夜可不是这样，法希这样告诉自己。今天我会是个大赢家。
兰登挂上电话后显得很不自在。"一切都好吗？"法希问。兰登微微地摇摇头。
从国内传来的坏消息，法希想。他在拿回手机时注意到兰登在微微冒汗。
"一个事故。"兰登表情不自然地看着兰登说。"一个朋友……"他犹豫了一下。"我明天一大早就得飞回国内。"法希一点也不怀疑兰登脸上的震惊之情是真的，但他还有另一种感觉。他感觉到好像这个美国人的眼里有一丝不愿流露出来的恐惧感。"听到这个消息我很难过。"法希边说边密切地观察着兰登。"请坐。"他指向大画廊内供人站在上面看画的长凳。
兰登茫然地点点头，迈步朝长凳走去。他停了下来，显得越来越不知所措。"事实上，我想用一下洗手间。"法希皱起眉头，对这种拖延有些不悦。"洗手间。当然，咱们休息几分钟吧。"他指向身后他们刚才走过的走廊。"洗手间在后面，在馆长办公室方向。"
兰登犹豫了一下，指向大画廊另一端说："我想，那边的洗手间近得多。"
法希意识到兰登说得对。他们已经走过大画廊三分之二的距离，大画廊尽头有两个洗手间。"我陪你好吗？"
兰登摇头。他已经往画廊更深处走去了。"不必了。我想我得单独在那儿呆上几分钟。"
法希对兰登要独自沿着走廊走下去倒不恼火，他很放心，因为他知道大画廊那一端是死路一条，没有出口。大画廊惟一的出口在另一端--他们刚刚钻过来的那个门。虽然法国消防法要求像这么大的空间必须有好几个楼梯井，但当索尼埃启动安全防护系统后，那些楼梯井就自动封闭了。就算安全防护系统现在被解除，打开楼梯井，那也没关系--那些外边的门一旦打开，就会弄响警报，门就会被司法警察守卫起来，兰登不可能在法希不知情的情况下离开。
"我得回到索尼埃先生的办公室呆一会。"法希说。"请直接来找我，兰登先生。我们还有很多东西要讨论。"
兰登静静地挥一下手，消失在黑暗之中。
法希转身气哼哼地朝相反方向走去。到铁栅处，他从底下钻了过去，出了大画廊，径直沿大厅气冲冲地冲向设在索尼埃办公室的指挥部。
"谁批准让索菲。奈芙进来的？"法希咆哮道。
科莱先生回答道："她告诉外面的警卫说她已破译了密码。"
法希四处打量了一番。"她走了吗？"
"她不是和你在一起吗？"
"她走了。"法希望了望远处阴森森的走廊。索菲显然没情趣停下来和她在外出路上碰到的其他警官聊天。
一时间，他考虑要呼叫入口处的卫兵，告诉他们在索菲离开卢浮宫之前把她拖回到指挥部来。但又一想，他放弃了这个念头。那只是他的大话……想要说了算。他今晚够烦的了。以后再找奈芙算账，他这么说，心里已经想着要炒她鱿鱼了。
法希把索菲抛到脑后。他盯着索尼埃桌子上的武士小雕像看了一番。过一会他转向科莱问："他还在吗？"
科莱急忙点头并把手提电脑转向法希。一个红点在地板图饰上分明地显现出来，在标有"公共厕所"的房间有条不紊地闪烁着。
"很好。"法希说。他点燃一支香烟大步走进大厅。
"我得打个电话。要确保兰登不能去除洗手间之外的其他任何地方。"
收听单词发音 |
1
assessment
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| n.评价；评估；对财产的估价，被估定的金额 | |
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prank
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| n.开玩笑，恶作剧；v.装饰；打扮；炫耀自己 | |
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gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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relevance
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| n.中肯，适当，关联，相关性 | |
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mathematician
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| n.数学家 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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soliciting
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| v.恳求( solicit的现在分词 )；（指娼妇）拉客；索求；征求 | |
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depicting
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| 描绘，描画( depict的现在分词 )； 描述 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reset
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| v.重新安排，复位；n.重新放置；重放之物 | |
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bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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distractions
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| n.使人分心的事[人]( distraction的名词复数 )；娱乐，消遣；心烦意乱；精神错乱 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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