information that was getting denser every day.
Langdon maintained a patient tone. «I’m not surprised the Masons appeared in your staff’s search. Masons are a very obvious link between Peter Solomon and any number of esoteric topics.»
«Yes,» Sato said, «which is another reason I have been surprised this evening that you have not yet mentioned the Masons. After all, you’ve been talking about secret wisdom protected by an enlightened few. That sounds very Masonic, does it not?»
«It does. . and it also sounds very Rosicrucian, Kabbalistic, Alumbradian, and any number of other esoteric groups.»
«But Peter Solomon is a Mason — a very powerful Mason, at that. It seems the Masons would come to mind if we were talking about secrets. Heaven knows the Masons love their secrets.»
Langdon could hear the distrust in her voice, and he wanted no part of it. «If you want to know anything about the Masons, you would be far better served to ask a Mason.»
«Actually,» Sato said, «I’d prefer to ask someone I can trust.»
Langdon found the comment both ignorant and offensive. «For the record, ma’am, the entire masonic philosophy is built on honesty and integrity. masons are among the most trustworthy men you could ever hope to meet.»
«I have seen persuasive evidence to the contrary.»
Langdon was liking Director Sato less and less with each passing moment. He had spent years writing about the Masons’ rich tradition of metaphorical iconography and symbols, and knew that Masons had always been one of the most unfairly maligned and misunderstood organizations in the world. Regularly accused of everything from devil worship to plotting a one-world government, the Masons also had a policy of never responding to their critics, which made them an easy target.
«Regardless,» Sato said, her tone biting, «we are again at an impasse, Mr. Langdon. It seems to me there is either something you are missing. . or something you are not telling me. The man we’re dealing with said that Peter Solomon chose you specifically.» She leveled a cold stare at Langdon. «I think it’s time we move this conversation to CIA headquarters. Maybe we’ll have more luck there.»
Sato’s threat barely registered with Langdon. She had just said something that had lodged in his mind.
Langdon gasped, recalling the eerie whisper of Peter’s captor:
Now, in one terrifying moment, Langdon’s thoughts snapped into focus and the fog lifted.
All at once, Langdon’s purpose here was crystal clear.
Ten miles away, driving south on Suitland Parkway, Mal’akh heard a distinctive vibration on the seat beside him. It was Peter Solomon’s iPhone, which had proven a powerful tool today. The visual caller ID now displayed the image of an attractive middle-aged woman with long black hair.
INCOMING CALL — KATHERINE SOLOMON
Mal’akh smiled, ignoring the call.
he had lured katherine solomon to his home this afternoon for one reason only — to determine if she had information that could assist him. . perhaps a family secret that might help mal’akh locate what he sought. clearly, however, katherine’s brother had told her nothing of what he had been guarding all these years.
Even so, Mal’akh had learned something else from Katherine.
Katherine’s research was poised to open a new door of understanding, and once the door was opened even a crack, others would follow. It would just be a matter of time before everything changed.
The iPhone beeped, indicating Katherine had left a voice mail. Mal’akh retrieved it.
«Peter, it’s me again.» Katherine’s voice sounded concerned. «Where are you? I’m still thinking about my conversation with Dr. Abaddon. . and I’m worried. Is everything okay? Please call me. I’m at the lab.»
The voice mail ended.
Mal’akh smiled.
CHAPTER 24
The revelation crashed over langdon like a wave.
Standing in the center of the Rotunda, Langdon felt a powerful urge to turn and run away. . from Peter’s hand, from the shining gold ring, from the suspicious eyes of Sato and Anderson. Instead, he stood dead still, clinging more tightly to the leather daybag that hung on his shoulder.
His jaw clenched as his memory began replaying the scene from that cold morning, years ago in Cambridge. It was six A.M. and Langdon was entering his classroom as he always did following his ritual morning laps in the Harvard Pool. The familiar smells of chalk dust and steam heat greeted him as he crossed the threshold. He took two steps toward his desk but stopped short.
A figure was waiting there for him — an elegant gentleman with an aquiline face and regal gray eyes.
«Peter?» Langdon stared in shock.
Peter Solomon’s smile flashed white in the dimly lit room. «Good morning, Robert. Surprised to see me?» His voice was soft, and yet there was power there.
Langdon hurried over and warmly shook his friend’s hand. «What in the world is a Yale blue blood doing on the Crimson campus before dawn?»
«Covert mission behind enemy lines,» Solomon said, laughing. He motioned to Langdon’s trim waistline. «Laps are paying off. You’re in good shape.»
«Just trying to make you feel old,» Langdon said, toying with him. «It’s great to see you, Peter. What’s up?»
«Short business trip,» the man replied, glancing around the deserted classroom. «I’m sorry to drop in on you like this, Robert, but I have only a few minutes. There’s something I needed to ask you. . in person. A favor.»
Solomon lowered his voice. «I was hoping you would consider looking after something for me.»
Langdon rolled his eyes. «Not Hercules, I hope.» Langdon had once agreed to take care of Solomon’s hundred-fifty-pound mastiff, Hercules, during Solomon’s travels. While at Langdon’s home, the dog apparently had become homesick for his favorite leather chew toy and had located a worthy substitute in Langdon’s study — an original vellum, hand-calligraphed, illuminated Bible from the 1600s. Somehow «bad dog» didn’t quite seem adequate.
«You know, I’m still searching for a replacement,» Solomon said, smiling sheepishly.