briefcase. Inside were two thick stacks of bonds, each embossed with the Vatican seal and the title PORTATORE, making the bonds redeemable to whoever was holding them.
The secretariat looked tense. "I must say, Bishop, all of us would feel less apprehensive if these funds were in cash."
I could not lift that much cash, Aringarosa thought, closing the case. "Bonds are negotiable as cash. You said so yourself."
The cardinals exchanged uneasy looks, and finally one said," Yes, but these bonds are traceable directly to the Vatican Bank."
Aringarosa smiled inwardly. That was precisely the reason the Teacher suggested Aringarosa get the money in Vatican Bank bonds. It served as insurance. We are all in this together now. "This is a perfectly legal transaction," Aringarosa defended. "Opus Dei is a personal prelature of Vatican City, and His Holiness can disperse monies however he sees fit. No law has been broken here."
"True, and yet..." The secretariat leaned forward and his chair creaked under the burden. "We have no knowledge of what you intend to do with these funds, and if it is in any way illegal..."
"Considering what you are asking of me," Aringarosa countered," what I do with this money is not your concern."
There was a long silence. They know I'm right, Aringarosa thought. "Now, I imagine you have something for me to sign?" They all jumped, eagerly pushing the paper toward him, as if they wished he would simply leave. Aringarosa eyed the sheet before him. It bore the papal seal. "This is identical to the copy you sent me?" "Exactly." Aringarosa was surprised how little emotion he felt as he signed the document. The three men present, however, seemed to sigh in relief." Thank you, Bishop," the secretariat said. "Your service to the Church will never be forgotten." Aringarosa picked up the briefcase, sensing promise and authority in its weight. The four menlooked at one another for a moment as if there were something more to say, but apparently therewas not. Aringarosa turned and headed for the door.
"Bishop?" one of the cardinals called out as Aringarosa reached the threshold. Aringarosa paused, turning. "Yes?" "Where will you go from here?"
Aringarosa sensed the query was more spiritual than geographical, and yet he had no intention of discussing morality at this hour. "Paris," he said, and walked out the door.
Chapter 42-43
CHAPTER 42
The Depository Bank of Zurich was a twenty-four-hour Geldschrank bank offering the full modern array of anonymous services in the tradition of the Swiss numbered account. Maintaining offices in Zurich, Kuala Lumpur, New York, and Paris, the bank had expanded its services in recent years to offer anonymous computer source code escrow services and faceless digitized backup.
The bread and butter of its operation was by far its oldest and simplest offering - the anonyme Lager - blind drop services, otherwise known as anonymous safe-deposit boxes. Clients wishing to store anything from stock certificates to valuable paintings could deposit their belongings anonymously, through a series of high-tech veils of privacy, withdrawing items at any time, also in total anonymity.
As Sophie pulled the taxi to a stop in front of their destination, Langdon gazed out at the building's uncompromising architecture and sensed the Depository Bank of Zurich was a firm with little sense of humor. The building was a windowless rectangle that seemed to be forged entirely of dull steel. Resembling an enormous metal brick, the edifice sat back from the road with a fifteen-foot-tall, neon, equilateral cross glowing over its facade.
Switzerland's reputation for secrecy in banking had become one of the country's most lucrative exports. Facilities like this had become controversial in the art community because they provided a perfect place for art thieves to hide stolen goods, for years if necessary, until the heat was off. Because deposits were protected from police inspection by privacy laws and were attached to numbered accounts rather than people's names, thieves could rest easily knowing their stolen goods were safe and could never be traced to them.
Sophie stopped the taxi at an imposing gate that blocked the bank's driveway - a cement-lined ramp that descended beneath the building. A video camera overhead was aimed directly at them, and Langdon had the feeling that this camera, unlike those at the Louvre, was authentic.
Sophie rolled down the window and surveyed the electronic podium on the driver's side. An LCD screen provided directions in seven languages. Topping the list was English.
INSERT KEY.
Sophie took the gold laser-pocked key from her pocket and turned her attention back to the podium. Below the