fell harder now. Remy could no longer see, but he could sense his oxygen-deprived brain straining to cling to his last faint shreds of lucidity. As his world slowly went black, Remy Legaludec could have sworn he heard the sounds of the soft Riviera surf.
The Teacher stepped from the limousine, pleased to see that nobody was looking in his direction. Ihad no choice, he told himself, surprised how little remorse he felt for what he had just done. Remy sealed his own fate.The Teacher had feared all along that Remy might need to be eliminated when the mission was complete, but by brazenly showing himself in the Temple Church, Remy had accelerated the necessity dramatically. Robert Langdon's unexpected visit to Chateau Villette had brought the Teacher both a fortuitous windfall and an intricate dilemma. Langdon had delivered the keystone directly to the heart of the operation, which was a pleasant surprise, and yet he had brought the police on his tail. Remy's prints were all over Chateau Villette, as well as in the barn's listening post, where Remy had carried out the surveillance. The Teacher was grateful he had taken so much care in preventing any ties between Remy's activities and his own. Nobody could implicate the Teacher unless Remy talked, and that was no longer a concern.
One more loose end to tie up here, the Teacher thought, moving now toward the rear door of the limousine. The police will have no idea what happened...and no living witness left to tell them.Glancing around to ensure nobody was watching, he pulled open the door and climbed into the spacious rear compartment.
Minutes later, the Teacher was crossing St. James's Park. Only two people now remain.Langdonand Neveu.They were more complicated. But manageable. At the moment, however, the Teacher had the cryptex to attend to.
Gazing triumphantly across the park, he could see his destination. In London lies a knight a Pope interred.As soon as the Teacher had heard the poem, he had known the answer. Even so, that the others had not figured it out was not surprising. I have an unfair advantage.Having listened to Sauniere's conversations for months now, the Teacher had heard the Grand Master mention this famous knight on occasion, expressing esteem almost matching that he held for Da Vinci. The poem's reference to the knight was brutally simple once one saw it - a credit to Sauniere's wit - and yet how this tomb would reveal the final password was still a mystery.
You seek the orb that ought be on his tomb.
The Teacher vaguely recalled photos of the famous tomb and, in particular, its most distinguishing feature. A magnificent orb.The huge sphere mounted atop the tomb was almost as large as the tomb itself. The presence of the orb seemed both encouraging and troubling to the Teacher. On one hand, it felt like a signpost, and yet, according to the poem, the missing piece of the puzzle was an orb that ought to be on his tomb... not one that was already there. He was counting on his closer inspection of the tomb to unveil the answer.
The rain was getting heavier now, and he tucked the cryptex deep in his right-hand pocket to protect it from the dampness. He kept the tiny Medusa revolver in his left, out of sight. Within minutes, he was stepping into the quiet sanctuary of London's grandest nine-hundred-year-old building.
Just as the Teacher was stepping out of the rain, Bishop Aringarosa was stepping into it. On the rainy tarmac at Biggin Hill Executive Airport, Aringarosa emerged from his cramped plane, bundling his cassock against the cold damp. He had hoped to be greeted by Captain Fache. Instead a young British police officer approached with an umbrella.
"Bishop Aringarosa? Captain Fache had to leave. He asked me to look after you. He suggested I take you to Scotland Yard. He thought it would be safest."
Safest? Aringarosa looked down at the heavy briefcase of Vatican bonds clutched in his hand. He had almost forgotten. "Yes, thank you."
Aringarosa climbed into the police car, wondering where Silas could be. Minutes later, the police scanner crackled with the answer.
5 Orme Court.
Aringarosa recognized the address instantly.
The Opus Dei Centre in London.
He spun to the driver. "Take me there at once!"
CHAPTER 95
Langdon's eyes had not left the computer screen since the search began.
Five minutes. Only two hits. Both irrelevant.
He was starting to get worried.
Pamela Gettum was in the adjoining room, preparing hot drinks. Langdon and Sophie had inquired unwisely if there might be some