Robert Langdon felt light-headed as he trudged1 toward the end of the Grand Gallery. Sophie's phone message played over and over in his mind. At the end of the corridor, illuminated2 signs bearing the international stick-figure symbols for rest rooms guided him through a maze-like series of dividers displaying Italian drawings and hiding the rest rooms from sight.
Finding the men's room door, Langdon entered and turned on the lights.
The room was empty.
Walking to the sink, he splashed cold water on his face and tried to wake up. Harsh fluorescent3 lights glared off the stark4 tile, and the room smelled of ammonia. As he toweled off, the rest room's door creaked open behind him. He spun5.
Sophie Neveu entered, her green eyes flashing fear. "Thank God you came. We don't have much time."
Langdon stood beside the sinks, staring in bewilderment at DCPJ cryptographer Sophie Neveu. Only minutes ago, Langdon had listened to her phone message, thinking the newly arrived cryptographer must be insane. And yet, the more he listened, the more he sensed Sophie Neveu was speaking in earnest. Do not react to this message. Just listen calmly. You are in danger right now. Follow my directions very closely. Filled with uncertainty6, Langdon had decided7 to do exactly as Sophie advised. He told Fache that the phone message was regarding an injured friend back home. Then he had asked to use the rest room at the end of the Grand Gallery.
Sophie stood before him now, still catching8 her breath after doubling back to the rest room. In the fluorescent lights, Langdon was surprised to see that her strong air actually radiated from unexpectedly soft features. Only her gaze was sharp, and the juxtaposition9 conjured10 images of a multilayered Renoir portrait... veiled but distinct, with a boldness that somehow retained its shroud11 of mystery.
"I wanted to warn you, Mr. Langdon..." Sophie began, still catching her breath, "that you are sous surveillance cachée. Under a guarded observation." As she spoke12, her accented English resonated off the tile walls, giving her voice a hollow quality.
"But... why?" Langdon demanded. Sophie had already given him an explanation on the phone, but he wanted to hear it from her lips.
"Because," she said, stepping toward him, "Fache's primary suspect in this murder is you."
Langdon was braced13 for the words, and yet they still sounded utterly14 ridiculous. According to Sophie, Langdon had been called to the Louvre tonight not as a symbologist but rather as a suspect and was currently the unwitting target of one of DCPJ's favorite interrogation methods—surveillance cachée—a deft15 deception16 in which the police calmly invited a suspect to a crime scene and interviewed him in hopes he would get nervous and mistakenly incriminate himself.
"Look in your jacket's left pocket," Sophie said. "You'll find proof they are watching you."
Langdon felt his apprehension17 rising. Look in my pocket? It sounded like some kind of cheap magic trick.
"Just look."
Bewildered, Langdon reached his hand into his tweed jacket's left pocket—one he never used. Feeling around inside, he found nothing. What the devil did you expect? He began wondering if Sophie might just be insane after all. Then his fingers brushed something unexpected. Small and hard. Pinching the tiny object between his fingers, Langdon pulled it out and stared in astonishment18. It was a metallic19, button-shaped disk, about the size of a watch battery. He had never seen it before. "What the...?"
"GPS tracking dot," Sophie said. "Continuously transmits its location to a Global Positioning System satellite that DCPJ can monitor. We use them to monitor people's locations. It's accurate within two feet anywhere on the globe. They have you on an electronic leash20. The agent who picked you up at the hotel slipped it inside your pocket before you left your room."
Langdon flashed back to the hotel room... his quick shower, getting dressed, the DCPJ agent politely holding out Langdon's tweed coat as they left the room. It's cool outside, Mr. Langdon, the agent had said. Spring in Paris is not all your song boasts. Langdon had thanked him and donned the jacket.
Sophie's olive gaze was keen. "I didn't tell you about the tracking dot earlier because I didn't want you checking your pocket in front of Fache. He can't know you've found it."
Langdon had no idea how to respond.
"They tagged you with GPS because they thought you might run." She paused. "In fact, they hoped you would run; it would make their case stronger."
"Why would I run!" Langdon demanded. "I'm innocent!"
"Fache feels otherwise."
Angrily, Langdon stalked toward the trash receptacle to dispose of the tracking dot.
"No!" Sophie grabbed his arm and stopped him. "Leave it in your pocket. If you throw it out, the signal will stop moving, and they'll know you found the dot. The only reason Fache left you alone is because he can monitor where you are. If he thinks you've discovered what he's doing..." Sophie did not finish the thought. Instead, she pried21 the metallic disk from Langdon's hand and slid it back into the pocket of his tweed coat. "The dot stays with you. At least for the moment."
Langdon felt lost. "How the hell could Fache actually believe I killed Jacques Saunière!"
"He has some fairly persuasive22 reasons to suspect you." Sophie's expression was grim. "There is a piece of evidence here that you have not yet seen. Fache has kept it carefully hidden from you."
Langdon could only stare.
"Do you recall the three lines of text that Saunière wrote on the floor?"
Langdon nodded. The numbers and words were imprinted23 on Langdon's mind.
Sophie's voice dropped to a whisper now. "Unfortunately, what you saw was not the entire message. There was a fourth line that Fache photographed and then wiped clean before you arrived."
Although Langdon knew the soluble24 ink of a watermark stylus could easily be wiped away, he could not imagine why Fache would erase25 evidence.
"The last line of the message," Sophie said, "was something Fache did not want you to know about." She paused. "At least not until he was done with you."
Sophie produced a computer printout of a photo from her sweater pocket and began unfolding it. "Fache uploaded images of the crime scene to the Cryptology Department earlier tonight in hopes we could figure out what Saunière's message was trying to say. This is a photo of the complete message." She handed the page to Langdon.
Bewildered, Langdon looked at the image. The close-up photo revealed the glowing message on the parquet26 floor. The final line hit Langdon like a kick in the gut27.
13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5
P.S. Find Robert Langdon
罗伯特。兰登深一脚浅一脚地朝长廊尽头走去，他感到头重脚轻。索菲的电话留言在他脑子里一遍遍地重复。在长廊的尽头，亮着灯的牌子上有国际通行的用来标示卫生间的线条人物，他沿着这些指示牌走过一系列迷宫一样的分隔区。这些分隔区一面展示意大利画作，同时也把洗手间遮藏于人们看不见的地方。
兰登找到男卫生间的门，进去打开了灯。卫生间里空无一人。
他走到水盆旁往自己脸上溅冷水，想使自己清醒些。刺眼的灯光从光滑的瓷砖上反射出耀眼的光芒，卫生间里一股氨味。他擦手时，卫生间的门突然"吱呀"一声开了。他吓得急忙转过身。索菲。奈芙进来了，她绿色的眼睛里闪着担心和恐惧。"谢天谢地，你来了！我们时间不多了。"兰登站在水盆旁，疑惑不解地望着中央司法警察的密码破译员索菲。奈芙。几分钟前，兰登听了她的电话留言，认为这位新来的密码破译员一定是脑子不正常。然而，他越听越觉得索菲。奈芙语气恳切。"听到留言后，千万不要有什么反应。只管冷静地听。您现在处境危险。请严格遵守我的指令。"兰登虽然将信将疑，但他还是决定严格按索菲建议的那样做。他告诉法希留言是关于国内的一个受伤的朋友。后来他又要求使用大画廊尽头的卫生间。
索菲此刻站到了他面前，因为折回到卫生间的缘故，她还在上气不接下气地喘着。在日光灯下，兰登惊异地发现她强有力的气息实际上是从那极温柔的嘴唇和鼻孔里散发出的。只是她目光锐利，这些五官的组合使人想起雷诺阿的多层肖像画……罩着纱，但又依稀可见，大胆开放却又保留着一层神秘。
"我刚才想提醒您，兰登先生……"索菲开始说话，不过还是上气不接下气。"你被秘密监视了--在严密监视之下。"说话时，她有口音的英语在贴着瓷砖的墙上有回声，使她的声音显得有些沉闷。
"但是……为什么？"兰登追问道。索菲已经在电话留言里向他解释过了，但他还是想听到她亲口说出来。
"因为。"她向前迈一步说。"法希把你列为这个谋杀案中的首要嫌疑犯。"
兰登听到这话后愣住了，但那听起来太荒谬了。索菲讲，兰登今晚并不是作为一个象征符号学家而是作为嫌疑犯被召进卢浮宫的。这是中央司法警察当前最喜欢使用的一个审讯方法。嫌疑犯在不知情的情况下被监视。这种秘密监视是一种巧妙的骗局。警察若无其事地把嫌疑犯邀请到犯罪现场和他面谈，希望嫌疑人紧张失色，无意中暴露自己的罪行。
"掏掏你上衣的左衣袋，你就能找到他们监视你的证据。"索菲说。
兰登突然感到一股恐惧从他心头升起。掏掏我的衣袋？听起来像某种低劣的咒语。
"你掏掏呀！"
兰登满腹狐疑地把手伸进花格呢上衣的左衣袋--他从未用过这个衣袋。他在里边摸了摸，什么也没摸到。你到底指望得到什么？他开始怀疑索菲是不是真的疯了。可就在这时，他的手指头碰到了一个他意想不到的东西--又小又硬。兰登用手指把那小玩意儿捏了出来，惊恐地盯着它。那是一个金属的、纽扣状的小圆盘，大约和手表电池那般大小。
他以前从未见过这东西。"这是？……"
"全球卫星定位跟踪器。"索菲说。"它能不停地把它的位置传输给中央司法警察可以监控的全球卫星定位系统。在全球任何地方，它的误差不会超过两英尺。他们已经把你拴在这个电子绳索上了。去酒店接你的那个警察在您离开房间之前就把它塞进了你的上衣衣袋里。"兰登回忆起了他在酒店客房里的情形--他很快地冲了淋浴，穿上衣服，中央司法警察在出门时礼貌地把他的花格呢上衣递给他。外面很冷，兰登先生。警察说。巴黎的春天一点也不像你们歌中赞叹的那样好。兰登谢了他，把上衣穿上了。
索菲橄榄色的眼神显得很敏锐。"我之所以没有告诉您这个跟踪器，是因为我不想让您当着法希的面检查您的衣袋。法希不可能知道你现在已经发现了它。"兰登不知道该作何应答。
"他们用卫星定位系统把你锁定，因为他们认为你或许会逃跑。"她停了停又说。"事实上，他们倒希望你逃跑；那样会使他们感到罪证更确凿。""我为什么要逃跑？"兰登问。"我是无辜的！"
"法希可不这样想。"
兰登生气地走向垃圾筒，想把跟踪器扔掉。
"不行！"索菲抓住他的胳膊。"把它留在你衣袋里。如果扔掉，信号就会停止运动，他们就会知道你已发现了这个跟踪器。法希让你在这里的唯一原因是因为他可以监控你的行动。如果他发现你已经知道了他所做的……"索菲没把话说完，而是把那金属小圆盘从兰登手里夺过来，把它塞到他的花格呢外套衣袋里。"把这个跟踪器放在你身上，至少目前得这样。"兰登感到非常不解。"法希怎么就认定是我杀死了雅克。索尼埃！"
"他有极具说服力的理由来怀疑你。"索菲表情严肃。"有一条证据你还没看到。法希已谨慎地把它藏了起来，没让你看到。"兰登只能睁大眼睛，无话可说。
"你还能记起索尼埃写在地上的那三行东西吗？"
兰登点点头。那些数字和文字已深深地印在他的脑海里。
索菲的声音现在低得像耳语一样。"不幸的是，你所看到的并不是信息的全部。法希的照片上本来有第四行，但在你来之前被彻底清除掉了。"虽然兰登知道那种水印笔的可溶性墨水可以很容易被清除掉，他还是不能想出为什么法希要擦掉证据。
"那遗言的最后一行。"索菲说。"法希不想让你知道。"索菲稍停了一下又说："至少在他把你拿下之前是这样。"索菲从她的毛衣衣袋里取出一张电脑打印的照片后开始把它展开。"法希今晚早些时候给密码破译部送去一堆犯罪现场的照片，希望我们能破译出索尼埃的文字到底试图说明什么。这是一幅有完整信息的照片。"她把照片递给了兰登。
兰登不解地看着图片。这张特写照片上显示出拼花地板上发光的文字。看到最后一行，兰登感觉犹如肚子上被人踹了一脚一样：13－3－2－21－1－1－8－5啊，严酷的魔王！
噢，瘸腿的圣徒！
附言：找到罗伯特。兰登。（译者注：附言的英文缩写是P.S.）
收听单词发音 |
1
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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fluorescent
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| adj.荧光的，发出荧光的 | |
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stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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juxtaposition
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| n.毗邻，并置，并列 | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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shroud
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| n.裹尸布，寿衣；罩，幕；vt.覆盖，隐藏 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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deft
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| adj.灵巧的，熟练的（a deft hand 能手） | |
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deception
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| n.欺骗，欺诈；骗局，诡计 | |
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apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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leash
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| n.牵狗的皮带，束缚；v.用皮带系住 | |
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pried
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| v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的过去式和过去分词 )；撬开 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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imprinted
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| v.盖印（imprint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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soluble
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| adj.可溶的；可以解决的 | |
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erase
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| v.擦掉；消除某事物的痕迹 | |
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parquet
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| n.镶木地板 | |
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gut
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| n.[pl.]胆量；内脏；adj.本能的；vt.取出内脏 | |
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draconian
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| adj.严苛的；苛刻的；严酷的；龙一样的 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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