Код да Винчи

Chapter 8

           

           O,Draconiandevil?Oh,lamesaint?

           Fachesaid,«Thistextappearstobeanaccusationofsomesort.Wouldn’tyouagree?»

           Langdontriedtoimaginethecurator’sfinalminutestrappedaloneintheGrandGallery,knowinghewasabouttodie.Itseemedlogical.«Anaccusationagainsthismurderermakessense,Isuppose.»

           «Myjob,ofcourse,istoputanametothatperson.Letmeaskyouthis,Mr.Langdon.Toyoureye,beyondthenumbers,whataboutthismessageismoststrange?»

           Moststrange?Adyingmanhadbarricadedhimselfinthegallery,drawnapentacleonhimself,andscrawledamysteriousaccusationonthefloor.Whataboutthescenariowasn’tstrange?

           «Theword‘Draconian’?»heventured,offeringthefirstthingthatcametomind.LangdonwasfairlycertainthatareferencetoDracotheruthlessseventh-centuryB.C.politicianwasanunlikelydyingthought.«‘Draconiandevil’seemsanoddchoiceofvocabulary.»

           «Draconian?»Fache’stonecamewithatingeofimpatiencenow.«Saunière’schoiceofvocabularyhardlyseemstheprimaryissuehere.»

           Langdonwasn’tsurewhatissueFachehadinmind,buthewasstartingtosuspectthatDracoandFachewouldhavegottenalongwell.

           «SaunièrewasaFrenchman,»Fachesaidflatly.«HelivedinParis.Andyethechosetowritethismessage…»

           «InEnglish,»Langdonsaid,nowrealizingthecaptain’smeaning.Fachenodded.«Précisément.Anyideawhy?»LangdonknewSaunièrespokeimpeccableEnglish,andyetthereasonhehadchosenEnglishasthelanguageinwhichtowritehisfinalwordsescapedLangdon.Heshrugged.

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