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属类: 双语小说 【分类】世界名著 -[作者: 丹-布朗] 阅读:[25881]
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兰登与索菲跨过圣殿教堂地铁站的旋转栅门,冲进肮脏的隧道与站台组成的迷宫深处时,他感到筋疲力尽,同时也觉得非常的内疚。

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是我连累了提彬,他现在真可谓是性命攸关。

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雷米的突然卷入虽然令大家深感震惊。不过还是很有意义的。这说明,任何人,只要他们想把圣杯弄到手,都会暗中派人打入到对手内部。基于同样的理由,他们将人安插到提彬的身边。纵观历史,那些了解圣杯史的人,长期以来一直吸引着小偷以及学者那样的人。提彬一直是这些人的众矢之的。这样的事实本可让兰登减少一些拖累他的自责,然而却没有。我们得找到雷爵土,将他解救出来。马上。

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兰登跟着索菲来到通往西面的地铁黄线暨绿线的站台,一到那里,她就急忙跑去打公用电话报警--尽管雷米曾威胁她不要去报警。兰登坐在附近一张肮脏的椅子上,心里充满了悔恨。

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索菲一边拨电话号码一边不住地重申:"请你相信我,眼下解救提彬最好的方法,就是马上让伦敦警方插手进来。"兰登最初并不同意她的主张,不过由于他们已想好了一套计划,这才使索菲的那套逻辑开始变得有意义起来。提彬暂时是安全的。即使雷米与其他人知道骑土坟墓的确切位置,他们还是需要提彬来帮助他们解开圆球之谜。兰登担心的倒是,在圣杯地图找到之后,他们又会做出什么样的事情来呢?一旦找到了地图,雷就会成为他们沉重的包袱。

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要是兰登还想有机会解救提彬?或者再看到拱心石,他就得先找到这座骑士坟墓。不幸的是,雷米突然来了个先发制人。

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现在,迫使雷米停下来就是索菲承担的任务。

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而兰登的责任就是找准骑士的坟墓。

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索菲可能会使伦敦警方四处追捕雷米与塞拉斯,迫使他们东躲西藏,惶惶不可终日,如果运气不错,甚至有可能逮住他们。但是,兰登的计划就不敢那么肯定了--他打算坐地铁到附近的国王学院,它因拥有所有神学方面知识的电子数据库而闻名。这是兰登所听过的最重要的研究手段。任何关于宗教方面的历史问题,只要一敲键盘,很快就会找到答案。他不知道该数据库对"一位被教皇杀害的骑士"这样的问题会提供什么样的答案。

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他站起来,来回踱着步,盼望火车能马上就来。

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在公共电话那头,索菲终于拨通了伦敦警方的电话。

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"这里是雪山分局。"调度员在另一头说道:"请问你要将电话转往哪个分机?"

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"我是来报案的,有人被绑架了。"索菲知道,怎样才能做到不拖泥带水。

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"请问尊姓大名?"

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索菲停了一下,才说:"我是法国警察署的特工索菲。奈芙。"

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显然她的头衔起到了预期的效果。"我马上就给你转过去,女士。我去叫一位侦探来跟你通话。"电话接通时,索菲就在怀疑警方会不会相信她对提彬的绑架者的描述。一位穿着晚礼服的男人。还有比这更容易让人辨认的嫌疑人吗?就算雷米改换装束,但他还带了一名患有白化病的修道士。况且他们还裹挟了一名人质,不可能会去搭乘公用的交通工具。她在心里疑惑,伦敦可能会有多少"美洲虎"牌加长豪华轿车。

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索菲以乎要等上一辈子的时间才能联系上那名侦探。快点呀!她听得见电话线里发出的"滴答"声和"嗡嗡"声,仿佛她正被电话线传了过去。

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十五秒过去了。

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终于有人来接电话:"是奈芙小姐吗?"

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索菲惊得跳了起来,她马上认出了那瓮声瓮气的男音。

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"奈芙小姐。"贝祖。法希询问道:"你到底在哪里?"

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索菲沉默不语。法希上尉显然关照过伦敦警察局的调度员,如果索菲打电话进来,务必要提醒他。

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"听着。"法希用法语简练地对她说:"今晚我犯了一个可怕的错误。罗伯特。兰登是无辜的。所有针对他的指控都被取消了。但即使是这样,你们两人还是很危险。你们得赶快过来。"索菲的下巴松弛了一下。她不知道该如何作出反应。法希可不是个随随便便向人道歉的人呐。

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"你没有告诉我。"法希继续说:"雅克,索尼埃是你祖父。考虑到你感情上一定承受了很大的压力,对你昨晚的反抗行为,我也就不打算追究了。不过,你和兰登还得赶快跑到最近的伦敦警察局去避一避。"他知道我在伦敦?他还知道什么?索菲听到对方发出连续不断的"嗡嗡"声,或者是其他机器发出的声音。她也听到电话线里传来古怪的"滴答"声,于是她问道:"你是在跟踪我的电话吧,上尉?"

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法希的语气变得坚定起来:"奈芙小姐,你和我现在必须合作,我俩在这里损失都很惨重,合作的话就可以减少我们的损失了。昨晚我判断失误,如果由于我的错误导致一名美国教授和法国中央警备部解码专家的死亡,那我的前途就完了。"火车终于来了,发出低低的"轰隆隆"的声响。此刻,一阵温暖的风,正吹遍火车站的各个通道。索菲急不可耐地想跳上去,兰登显然也是这么想。他打起精神,朝她走去。

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"你要找的人是雷米。莱格鲁德。"索菲还站在那里,说:"他是提彬的仆人。他刚才在圣殿教堂里面绑架了提彬,而且--""奈芙小姐!"法希不耐烦地喊道,这时火车"轰隆隆"地开进了车站。"这种事,不适合拿到公用电话上来讨论。为了你们的安全,你和兰登得马上过来避一避。"索菲把电话挂了,与兰登箭一般地跳上了火车。

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The fireplace in Chateau Villette’s drawing room was cold, but Collet paced before it nonethelessas he read the faxes from Interpol.

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Not at all what he expected.

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André Vernet, according to official records, was a model citizen. No police record—not even aparking ticket. Educated at prep school and the Sorbonne, he had a cum laude degree ininternational finance. Interpol said Vernet’s name appeared in the newspapers from time to time,but always in a positive light. Apparently the man had helped design the security parameters thatkept the Depository Bank of Zurich a leader in the ultramodern world of electronic security.

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Vernet’s credit card records showed a penchant for art books, expensive wine, and classicalCD’s—mostly Brahms—which he apparently enjoyed on an exceptionally high-end stereo systemhe had purchased several years ago.

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Zero, Collet sighed.

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The only red flag tonight from Interpol had been a set of fingerprints that apparently belonged toTeabing’s servant. The chief PTS examiner was reading the report in a comfortable chair across theroom.

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Collet looked over. "Anything?"The examiner shrugged. "Prints belong to Rémy Legaludec. Wanted for petty crime. Nothingserious. Looks like he got kicked out of university for rewiring phone jacks to get free service...

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later did some petty theft. Breaking and entering. Skipped out on a hospital bill once for anemergency tracheotomy." He glanced up, chuckling. "Peanut allergy."Collet nodded, recalling a police investigation into a restaurant that had failed to notate on its menuthat the chili recipe contained peanut oil. An unsuspecting patron had died of anaphylactic shock atthe table after a single bite.

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"Legaludec is probably a live-in here to avoid getting picked up." The examiner looked amused.

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"His lucky night."Collet sighed. "All right, you better forward this info to Captain Fache."The examiner headed off just as another PTS agent burst into the living room. "Lieutenant! Wefound something in the barn."From the anxious look on the agent’s face, Collet could only guess. "A body.""No, sir. Something more..." He hesitated. "Unexpected."Rubbing his eyes, Collet followed the agent out to the barn. As they entered the musty, cavernousspace, the agent motioned toward the center of the room, where a wooden ladder now ascendedhigh into the rafters, propped against the ledge of a hayloft suspended high above them.

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"That ladder wasn’t there earlier," Collet said.

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"No, sir. I set that up. We were dusting for prints near the Rolls when I saw the ladder lying on thefloor. I wouldn’t have given it a second thought except the rungs were worn and muddy. Thisladder gets regular use. The height of the hayloft matched the ladder, so I raised it and climbed upto have a look."Collet’s eyes climbed the ladder’s steep incline to the soaring hayloft. Someone goes up thereregularly? From down here, the loft appeared to be a deserted platform, and yet admittedly most ofit was invisible from this line of sight.

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A senior PTS agent appeared at the top of the ladder, looking down. "You’ll definitely want to seethis, Lieutenant," he said, waving Collet up with a latex-gloved hand.

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Nodding tiredly, Collet walked over to the base of the old ladder and grasped the bottom rungs.

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The ladder was an antique tapered design and narrowed as Collet ascended. As he neared the top,Collet almost lost his footing on a thin rung. The barn below him spun. Alert now, he moved on,finally reaching the top. The agent above him reached out, offering his wrist. Collet grabbed it andmade the awkward transition onto the platform.

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"It’s over there," the PTS agent said, pointing deep into the immaculately clean loft. "Only one setof prints up here. We’ll have an ID shortly."Collet squinted through the dim light toward the far wall. What the hell? Nestled against the farwall sat an elaborate computer workstation—two tower CPUs, a flat-screen video monitor withspeakers, an array of hard drives, and a multichannel audio console that appeared to have its ownfiltered power supply.

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Why in the world would anyone work all the way up here? Collet moved toward the gear. "Haveyou examined the system?""It’s a listening post."Collet spun. "Surveillance?"The agent nodded. "Very advanced surveillance." He motioned to a long project table strewn withelectronic parts, manuals, tools, wires, soldering irons, and other electronic components. "Someoneclearly knows what he’s doing. A lot of this gear is as sophisticated as our own equipment.

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Miniature microphones, photoelectric recharging cells, high-capacity RAM chips. He’s even gotsome of those new nano drives."Collet was impressed.

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"Here’s a complete system," the agent said, handing Collet an assembly not much larger than apocket calculator. Dangling off the contraption was a foot-long wire with a stamp-sized piece ofwafer-thin foil stuck on the end. "The base is a high-capacity hard disk audio recording systemwith rechargeable battery. That strip of foil at the end of the wire is a combination microphone andphotoelectric recharging cell."Collet knew them well. These foil-like, photocell microphones had been an enormous breakthrougha few years back. Now, a hard disk recorder could be affixed behind a lamp, for example, with itsfoil microphone molded into the contour of the base and dyed to match. As long as the microphonewas positioned such that it received a few hours of sunlight per day, the photo cells would keeprecharging the system. Bugs like this one could listen indefinitely.

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"Reception method?" Collet asked.

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The agent signaled to an insulated wire that ran out of the back of the computer, up the wall,through a hole in the barn roof. "Simple radio wave. Small antenna on the roof."Collet knew these recording systems were generally placed in offices, were voice-activated to savehard disk space, and recorded snippets of conversation during the day, transmitting compressedaudio files at night to avoid detection. After transmitting, the hard drive erased itself and preparedto do it all over again the next day.

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Collet’s gaze moved now to a shelf on which were stacked several hundred audio cassettes, alllabeled with dates and numbers. Someone has been very busy. He turned back to the agent. "Doyou have any idea what target is being bugged?""Well, Lieutenant," the agent said, walking to the computer and launching a piece of software. "It’sthe strangest thing...."

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