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Chapter 6

           AsLangdonstoodoverthebodyandsquintedintheharshlight,heremindedhimselftohisamazementthatSaunièrehadspenthislastminutesoflifearranginghisownbodyinthisstrangefashion.

           Saunièrelookedremarkablyfitforamanofhisyears…andallofhismusculaturewasinplainview.Hehadstrippedoffeveryshredofclothing,placeditneatlyonthefloor,andlaiddownonhisbackinthecenterofthewidecorridor,perfectlyalignedwiththelongaxisoftheroom.Hisarmsandlegsweresprawledoutwardinawidespreadeagle,likethoseofachildmakingasnowangel…or,perhapsmoreappropriately,likeamanbeingdrawnandquarteredbysomeinvisibleforce.

           JustbelowSaunière’sbreastbone,abloodysmearmarkedthespotwherethebullethadpiercedhisflesh.Thewoundhadbledsurprisinglylittle,leavingonlyasmallpoolofblackenedblood.

           Saunière’sleftindexfingerwasalsobloody,apparentlyhavingbeendippedintothewoundtocreatethemostunsettlingaspectofhisownmacabredeathbed;usinghisownbloodasink,andemployinghisownnakedabdomenasacanvas,Saunièrehaddrawnasimplesymbolonhisfleshfivestraightlinesthatintersectedtoformafive-pointedstar.

           Thepentacle.

           Thebloodystar,centeredonSaunière’snavel,gavehiscorpseadistinctlyghoulishaura.ThephotoLangdonhadseenwaschillingenough,butnow,witnessingthesceneinperson,Langdonfeltadeepeninguneasiness.

           Hedidthistohimself.

           «Mr.Langdon?»Fache’sdarkeyessettledonhimagain.

           «It’sapentacle,»Langdonoffered,hisvoicefeelinghollowinthehugespace.

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