Chapter 68

           NewYorkeditorJonasFaukmanhadjustclimbedintobedforthenightwhenthetelephonerang.Alittlelateforcallers,hegrumbled,pickingupthereceiver.

           Anoperator’svoiceaskedhim,»WillyouacceptchargesforacollectcallfromRobertLangdon?»Puzzled,Jonasturnedonthelight.«Uh…sure,okay.»Thelineclicked.«Jonas?»

           «Robert?Youwakemeupandyouchargemeforit?»

           «Jonas,forgiveme,»Langdonsaid.«I’llkeepthisveryshort.Ireallyneedtoknow.ThemanuscriptIgaveyou.Haveyou–»

           «Robert,I’msorry,IknowIsaidI’dsendtheeditsouttoyouthisweek,butI’mswamped.NextMonday.Ipromise.»

           «I’mnotworriedabouttheedits.Ineedtoknowifyousentanycopiesoutforblurbswithouttellingme?»

           Faukmanhesitated.Langdon’snewestmanuscript–anexplorationofthehistoryofgoddessworship–includedseveralsectionsaboutMaryMagdalenethatweregoingtoraisesomeeyebrows.Althoughthematerialwaswelldocumentedandhadbeencoveredbyothers,FaukmanhadnointentionofprintingAdvanceReadingCopiesofLangdon’sbookwithoutatleastafewendorsementsfromserioushistoriansandartluminaries.Jonashadchosentenbignamesintheartworldandsentthemallsectionsofthemanuscriptalongwithapoliteletteraskingiftheywouldbewillingtowriteashortendorsementforthejacket.InFaukman’sexperience,mostpeoplejumpedattheopportunitytoseetheirnameinprint.

           «Jonas?»Langdonpressed.«Yousentoutmymanuscript,didn’tyou?»

           Faukmanfrowned,sensingLangdonwasnothappyaboutit.