of his cranium. Somewhere nearby, people were talking.
"Where the devil were you?" Teabing was yelling. The manservant hurried in. "What happened? Oh my God! Who is that? I'll call the police!" "Bloody hell! Don't call the police. Make yourself useful and get us something with which to restrain this monster."
"And some ice!" Sophie called after him.
Langdon drifted out again. More voices. Movement. Now he was seated on the divan. Sophie was holding an ice pack to his head. His skull ached. As Langdon's vision finally began to clear, he found himself staring at a body on the floor. Am I hallucinating? The massive body of an albino monk lay bound and gagged with duct tape. His chin was split open, and the robe over his right thigh was soaked with blood. He too appeared to be just now coming to.
Langdon turned to Sophie. "Who is that? What... happened?"
Teabing hobbled over. "You were rescued by a knight brandishing an Excalibur made by Acme Orthopedic."
Huh? Langdon tried to sit up.
Sophie's touch was shaken but tender. "Just give yourself a minute, Robert."
"I fear," Teabing said," that I've just demonstrated for your lady friend the unfortunate benefit of my condition. It seems everyone underestimates you."
From his seat on the divan, Langdon gazed down at the monk and tried to imagine what had happened.
"He was wearing a cilice,"Teabing explained. "A what?" Teabing pointed to a bloody strip of barbed leather that lay on the floor. "A Discipline belt. He wore it on his thigh. I took careful aim."
Langdon rubbed his head. He knew of Discipline belts. "But how... did you know?"
Teabing grinned. "Christianity is my field of study, Robert, and there are certain sects who wear their hearts on their sleeves." He pointed his crutch at the blood soaking through the monk's cloak. "As it were."
"Opus Dei," Langdon whispered, recalling recent media coverage of several prominent Boston businessmen who were members of Opus Dei. Apprehensive coworkers had falsely and publicly accused the men of wearing Discipline belts beneath their three-piece suits. In fact, the three men did no such thing. Like many members of Opus Dei, these businessmen were at the" supernumerary" stage and practiced no corporal mortification at all. They were devout Catholics, caring fathers to their children, and deeply dedicated members of the community. Not surprisingly, the media spotlighted their spiritual commitment only briefly before moving on to the shock value of the sect's more stringent" numerary" members... members like the monk now lying on the floor before Langdon.
Teabing was looking closely at the bloody belt. "But why would Opus Dei be trying to find the Holy Grail?"
Langdon was too groggy to consider it.
"Robert," Sophie said, walking to the wooden box. "What's this?" She was holding the small Rose inlay he had removed from the lid." It covered an engraving on the box. I think the text might tell us how to open the keystone." Before Sophie and Teabing could respond, a sea of blue police lights and sirens erupted at thebottom of the hill and began snaking up the half-mile driveway.
Teabing frowned. "My friends, it seems we have a decision to make. And we'd better make it fast."
CHAPTER 66
Collet and his agents burst through the front door of Sir Leigh Teabing's estate with their guns drawn. Fanning out, they began searching all the rooms on the first level. They found a bullet hole in the drawing room floor, signs of a struggle, a small amount of blood, a strange, barbed leather belt, and a partially used roll of duct tape. The entire level seemed deserted.
Just as Collet was about to divide his men to search the basement and grounds behind the house, he heard voices on the level above them.
"They're upstairs!"
Rushing up the wide staircase, Collet and his men moved room by room through the huge home, securing darkened bedrooms and hallways as they closed in on the sounds of voices. The sound seemed to be coming from the last bedroom on an exceptionally long hallway. The agents inched down the corridor, sealing off alternate exits.
As they neared the final bedroom, Collet could see the door was wide open. The voices had stopped suddenly, and had been replaced by an odd rumbling, like an engine.
Sidearm raised, Collet gave the signal. Reaching silently around the door frame, he found the light switch and flicked it on. Spinning into the room with men pouring in after him, Collet shouted and aimed his weapon at... nothing.
An empty guest bedroom. Pristine.
The rumbling sounds of an automobile