Chapter 61

           TheairinsidethePantheonwascoolanddamp,heavywithhistory.Thesprawlingceilinghoveredoverheadasthoughweightless—the141-footunsupportedspanlargereventhanthecupolaatSt.Peter’s.Asalways,Langdonfeltachillasheenteredthecavernousroom.Itwasaremarkablefusionofengineeringandart.Abovethemthefamouscircularholeintheroofglowedwithanarrowshaftofeveningsun.Theoculus,Langdonthought.Thedemon’shole.

           Theyhadarrived.

           Langdon’seyestracedthearchoftheceilingslopingoutwardtothecolumnedwallsandfinallydowntothepolishedmarblefloorbeneaththeirfeet.Thefaintechooffootfallsandtouristmurmursreverberatedaroundthedome.Langdonscannedthedozenorsotouristswanderingaimlesslyintheshadows.Areyouhere?

           "Looksprettyquiet,"Vittoriasaid,stillholdinghishand.

           Langdonnodded.

           "Where’sRaphael’stomb?"

           Langdonthoughtforamoment,tryingtogethisbearings.Hesurveyedthecircumferenceoftheroom.Tombs.Altars.Pillars.Niches.Hemotionedtoaparticularlyornatefuneraryacrossthedomeandtotheleft."Ithinkthat’sRaphael’soverthere."

           Vittoriascannedtherestoftheroom."Idon’tseeanyonewholookslikeanassassinabouttokillacardinal.Shallwelookaround?"

           Langdonnodded."There’sonlyonespotinherewhereanyonecouldbehiding.Webetterchecktherientranze."

           "Therecesses?"

           "Yes."Langdonpointed."Therecessesinthewall."

           Aroundtheperimeter,interspersedwiththetombs,aseriesofsemicircularnicheswerehewninthewall.