The Da Vinci Code

actually shoot Langdon while he was holding the cryptex. The cryptex cannot fall!

The cryptex was to be Remy's ticket to freedom and wealth. A little over a year ago, he was simply a fifty- five-year-old manservant living within the walls of Chateau Villette, catering to the whims of the insufferable cripple Sir Leigh Teabing. Then he was approached with an extraordinary proposition. Remy's association with Sir Leigh Teabing—the preeminent Grail historian on earth—was going to bring Remy everything he had ever dreamed of in life. Since then, every moment he had spent inside Chateau Villette had been leading him to this very instant.

I am so close, Remy told himself, gazing into the sanctuary of the Temple Church and the keystone in Robert Langdon's hand. If Langdon dropped it, all would be lost.

Am I willing to show my face? It was something the Teacher had strictly forbidden. Remy was the only one who knew the Teacher's identity.

“Are you certain you want Silas to carry out this task?” Remy had asked the Teacher less than half an hour ago, upon getting orders to steal the keystone. “I myself am capable.”

The Teacher was resolute. “Silas served us well with the four Priory members. He will recover the keystone. You must remain anonymous. If others see you, they will need to be eliminated, and there has been enough killing already. Do not reveal your face.”

My face will change, Remy thought. With what you've promised to pay me, I will become an entirely new man. Surgery could even change his fingerprints, the Teacher had told him. Soon he would be free—another unrecognizable, beautiful face soaking up the sun on the beach. “Understood,” Remy said. “I will assist Silas from the shadows.”

“For your own knowledge, Remy,” the Teacher had told him, “the tomb in question is not in the Temple Church. So have no fear. They are looking in the wrong place.”

Remy was stunned. “And you know where the tomb is?”

“Of course. Later, I will tell you. For the moment, you must act quickly. If the others figure out the true location of the tomb and leave the church before you take the cryptex, we could lose the Grail forever.”

Remy didn't give a damn about the Grail, except that the Teacher refused to pay him until it was found. Remy felt giddy every time he thought of the money he soon would have. One third of twenty million euro. Plenty to disappear forever. Remy had pictured the beach towns on the Cote d'Azur, where he planned to live out his days basking in the sun and letting others serve him for a change.

Now, however, here in the Temple Church, with Langdon threatening to break the keystone, Remy's future was at risk. Unable to bear the thought of coming this close only to lose it all, Remy made the decision to take bold action. The gun in his hand was a concealable, small-caliber, J-frame Medusa, but it would be plenty deadly at close range.

Stepping from the shadows, Remy marched into the circular chamber and aimed the gun directly at Teabing's head. “Old man, I've been waiting a long time to do this.”

Sir Leigh Teabing's heart practically stalled to see Remy aiming a gun at him. What is he doing! Teabing recognized the tiny Medusa revolver as his own, the one he kept locked in the limousine glove box for safety.

“Remy?” Teabing sputtered in shock. “What is going on?”

Langdon and Sophie looked equally dumbstruck.

Remy circled behind Teabing and rammed the pistol barrel into his back, high and on the left, directly behind his heart.

Teabing felt his muscles seize with terror. “Remy, I don't—“

“I'll make it simple,” Remy snapped, eyeing Langdon over Teabing's shoulder. “Set down the keystone, or I pull the trigger.”

Langdon seemed momentarily paralyzed. “The keystone is worthless to you,” he stammered. “You cannot possibly open it.”

“Arrogant fools,” Remy sneered. “Have you not noticed that I have been listening tonight as you discussed these poems? Everything I heard, I have shared with others. Others who know more than you. You are not even looking in the right place. The tomb you seek is in another location entirely!”

Teabing felt panicked. What is he saying!

“Why do you want the Grail?” Langdon demanded. “To destroy it? Before the End of Days?”

Remy called to the monk. “Silas, take the keystone from Mr. Langdon.”

As the monk advanced, Langdon stepped back, raising the keystone high, looking fully prepared to hurl it at the floor.

“I would rather break it,” Langdon said, “than see it in the wrong hands.”

Teabing now felt a wave of horror. He could see his life's work evaporating before his eyes. All his dreams about to be shattered.

“Robert, no!” Teabing exclaimed. “Don't! That's the Grail you're holding! Remy would never shoot me. We've known each other for ten—“

Remy aimed at the ceiling and fired the Medusa. The blast was enormous for such a small weapon, the gunshot echoing like thunder inside the stone chamber.

Everyone froze.

“I am not playing games,” Remy said. “The next one is in his back. Hand the keystone to Silas.”

Langdon reluctantly held out the cryptex. Silas stepped forward and took it, his red eyes gleaming with the self-satisfaction of vengeance. Slipping the keystone in the pocket of his robe, Silas backed off, still holding Langdon and Sophie at gunpoint.

Teabing felt Remy's arm clamp hard around his neck as the servant began backing out of the building, dragging Teabing with him, the gun still pressed in his back.

“Let him go,” Langdon demanded.

“We're taking Mr. Teabing for a drive,” Remy said, still backing up. “If you call the police, he will die. If you do anything to interfere, he will die. Is that clear?”

“Take me,” Langdon demanded, his voice cracking with emotion. “Let Leigh go.”

Remy laughed. “I don't think so. He and I have such a nice history. Besides, he still might prove useful.”

Silas was backing up now, keeping Langdon and Sophie at gunpoint as Remy pulled Leigh toward the exit, his crutches dragging behind him.

Sophie's voice was unwavering. “Who are you working for?”

The question brought a smirk to the departing Remy's face. “You would be surprised, Mademoiselle Neveu.”

Chapter 87

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

Not at all what he expected.

Andre Vernet, according to official records, was a model citizen. No police record—not even a parking ticket. Educated at prep school and the Sorbonne, he had a cum laude degree in international 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 that kept the Depository Bank of Zurich a leader in the ultramodern world of electronic security. Vernet's credit card records showed a penchant for art books, expensive wine, and classical CD's—mostly Brahms—which he apparently enjoyed on an exceptionally high-end stereo system he had purchased several years ago.