the click five

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达芬奇密码（英文版TheDaVinciCode）

TheDaVinciCode

DanBrown

FORBLYTHE...ANEVER.

Acknowledgments

Firstandforemost,tomyfriendandeditor,JasonKaufman,for

workingsohardonthis

theincomparableHeide

Lange—tirelesschampionofTheDaVinciCode,agentextraordinaire,

andtrustedfriend.

Icannotfullyexpressmygratitudetotheexceptionalteamat

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Doubleday,fortheir

generosity,faith,ouespeciallytoBill

ThomasandSteveRubin,

ksalsototheinitial

coreofearlyin-hou

supporters,headedbyMichaelPalgon,SuzanneHerz,JanelleMoburg,

JackieEverly,and

AdrienneSparks,aswellastothetalentedpeopleofDoubleday'ssales

force.

Fortheirgenerousassistanceintherearchofthebook,Iwould

liketoacknowledgethe

LouvreMuum,theFrenchMinistryofCulture,ProjectGutenberg,

BibliothèqueNationale,the

GnosticSocietyLibrary,theDepartmentofPaintingsStudyand

DocumentationServiceatthe

Louvre,CatholicWorldNews,RoyalObrvatoryGreenwich,London

RecordSociety,the

MunimentCollectionatWestminsterAbbey,JohnPikeandthe

FederationofAmerican

Scientists,andthefivemembersofOpusDei(threeactive,twoformer)

whorecountedtheir

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stories,bothpositiveandnegative,regardingtheirexperiencesinside

OpusDei.

MygratitudealsotoWaterStreetBookstorefortrackingdownso

manyofmyrearch

books,myfatherRichardBrown—mathematicsteacherandauthor—

forhisassistancewiththe

DivineProportionandtheFibonacciSequence,StanPlanton,Sylvie

Baudeloque,Peter

McGuigan,FrancisMcInerney,MargieWachtel,AndréVernet,Ken

KelleheratAnchorball

WebMedia,CaraSottak,KarynPopham,EstherSung,Miriam

Abramowitz,WilliamTunstall-

Pedoe,andGriffinWoodenBrown.

Andfinally,inanoveldrawingsoheavilyonthesacredfeminine,I

wouldberemissifIdid

notmentionthetwoextraordinarywomenwhohavetouchedmylife.

First,mymother,Connie

Brown—fellowscribe,nurturer,musician,ife,

Blythe—arthistorian,

painter,front-lineeditor,andwithoutadoubtthemostastonishingly

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talentedwomanIhaveever

known.

FACT:

ThePrioryofSion—aEuropeancretsocietyfoundedin1099—

1975Paris'sBibliothèqueNationalediscoveredparchmentsknownasLes

DossiersSecrets,

identifyingnumerousmembersofthePrioryofSion,includingSirIsaac

Newton,Botticelli,

VictorHugo,andLeonardodaVinci.

TheVaticanprelatureknownasOpusDeiisadeeplydevout

Catholicctthathasbeenthe

topicofrecentcontroversyduetoreportsofbrainwashing,coercion,and

adangerouspractice

knownas"corporalmortification."OpusDeihasjustcompleted

constructionofa$47million

WorldHeadquartersat243LexingtonAvenueinNewYorkCity.

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Alldescriptionsofartwork,architecture,documents,andcret

ritualsinthisnovelare

accurate.

Prologue

LouvreMuum,Paris10:46

P.M.

RenownedcuratorJacquesSaunièrestaggeredthroughthevaulted

archwayofthemuum's

edforthenearestpaintinghecoulde,a

ngthe

gildedframe,theventy-six-year-oldmanheavedthemasterpiece

towardhimlfuntilittore

fromthewallandSaunièrecollapdbackwardinaheapbeneaththe

canvas.

Ashehadanticipated,athunderingirongatefellnearby,

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barricadingtheentrancetothe

,analarmbegantoring.

Thecuratorlayamoment,gaspingforbreath,

ledout

fromunderthecanvasandscannedthecavernousspaceforsomeplace

tohide.

Avoicespoke,chillinglyclo."Donotmove."

Onhishandsandknees,thecuratorfroze,turninghishead

slowly.

Onlyfifteenfeetaway,outsidethealedgate,themountainous

silhouetteofhisattacker

roadandtall,withghost-paleskin

andthinningwhitehair.

inodrewapistolfrom

hiscoatandaimedthe

barrelthroughthebars,directlyatthecurator."Youshouldnothave

run."Hisaccentwasnot

easytoplace."Nowtellmewhereitis."

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"Itoldyoualready,"thecuratorstammered,kneelingdefenless

onthefloorofthegallery.

"Ihavenoideawhatyouaretalkingabout!"

"Youarelying."Themanstaredathim,perfectlyimmobileexcept

fortheglintinhis

ghostlyeyes."Youandyourbrethrenpossssomethingthatisnot

yours."

ldhepossibly

knowthis?

"whereit

ishidden,andyouwill

live."Themanleveledhisgunatthecurator'shead."Isitacretyou

willdiefor?"

Saunièrecouldnotbreathe.

Themantiltedhishead,peeringdownthebarrelofhisgun.

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Saunièrehelduphishandsindefen."Wait,"hesaidslowly."I

willtellyouwhatyou

needtoknow."hetold

wasonehehad

reheardmanytimes...eachtimeprayinghewouldneverhavetou

it.

Whenthecuratorhadfinishedspeaking,hisassailantsmiled

smugly."exactly

whattheotherstoldme."

Saunièers?

"Ifoundthem,too,"thehugemantaunted."Allthreeofthem.

Theyconfirmedwhatyou

havejustsaid."

Itcannotbe!Thecurator'strueidentity,alongwiththeidentities

ofhisthreesénéchaux,

èrenow

realizedhissénéchaux,

followingstrictprocedure,hadtoldthesameliebeforetheirowndeaths.

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Itwaspartofthe

protocol.

Theattackeraimedhisgunagain."Whenyouaregone,Iwillbe

theonlyonewhoknows

thetruth."

stant,thecuratorgraspedthetruehorrorof

,thetruth

ctively,hetriedtoscrambleforcover.

Thegunroared,andthecuratorfeltaaringheatasthebullet

fellforward...,Saunièrerolledover

andstaredbackthrough

thebarsathisattacker.

ThemanwasnowtakingdeadaimatSaunière'shead.

Saunièreclodhiyes,histhoughtsaswirlingtempestoffear

andregret.

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Theclickofanemptychamberechoedthroughthecorridor.

Thecurator'yesflewopen.

Themanglanceddownathisweapon,lookingalmostamud.

Hereachedforacond

clip,butthenemedtoreconsider,smirkingcalmlyatSaunière'sgut.

"Myworkhereisdone."

Thecuratorlookeddownandsawthebulletholeinhiswhite

ramedbya

ach.

Almostcruelly,thebullet

eranoflaGuerred'Algérie,thecuratorhad

witnesdthishorribly

teenminutes,hewouldsurviveashis

stomachacidsepedinto

hischestcavity,slowlypoisoninghimfromwithin.

"Painisgood,monsieur,"themansaid.

Thenhewasgone.

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Alonenow,JacquesSaunièreturnedhisgazeagaintotheirongate.

Hewastrapped,andthe

ime

anyonegottohim,he

,thefearthatnowgrippedhimwasafearfar

greaterthanthatofhisown

death.

Imustpassonthecret.

Staggeringtohisfeet,hepicturedhisthreemurderedbrethren.

Hethoughtofthe

generationswhohadcomebeforethem...ofthemissionwithwhich

theyhadallbeenentrusted.

Anunbrokenchainofknowledge.

Suddenly,now,despitealltheprecautions...despiteallthe

fail-safes...JacquesSaunière

wastheonlyremaininglink,thesoleguardianofoneofthemost

powerfulcretverkept.

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Shivering,hepulledhimlftohisfeet.

Imustfindsomeway....

HewastrappedinsidetheGrandGallery,andthereexistedonly

onepersononearthto

èregazedupatthewallsofhis

ction

oftheworld'smostfamouspaintingsemedtosmiledownonhimlike

oldfriends.

Wincinginpain,

desperatetaskbefore

him,heknew,wouldrequireeveryremainingcondofhislife.

CHAPTER1

RobertLangdonawokeslowly.

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Atelephonewasringinginthedarkness—atinny,unfamiliarring.

Hefumbledforthe

ingathissurroundingshesawa

plushRenaissance

bedroomwithLouisXVIfurniture,hand-frescoedwalls,andacolossal

mahoganyfour-poster

bed.

WherethehellamI?

Thejacquardbathrobehangingonhisbedpostborethe

monogram:HOTELRITZPARIS.

Slowly,thefogbegantolift.

Langdonpickedupthereceiver."Hello?"

"MonsieurLangdon?"aman'svoicesaid."IhopeIhavenot

awokenyou?"

Dazed,12:

hadbeenasleeponlyan

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hour,buthefeltlikethedead.

"Thisistheconcierge,gizeforthisintrusion,but

insistsitisurgent."

or?Hiyesfocudnowona

crumpledflyeronhisbedside

table.

THEAMERICANUNIVERSITYOF

PARIS

proudlyprents

ANEVENINGWITHROBERT

LANGDON

PROFESSOROFRELIGIOUS

SYMBOLOGY,

HARVARDUNIVERSITY

t'slecture—aslideshowaboutpagan

symbolismhiddeninthe

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stonesofChartresCathedral—hadprobablyruffledsomeconrvative

feathersintheaudience.

Mostlikely,somereligiousscholarhadtrailedhimhometopickafight.

"I'msorry,"Langdonsaid,"butI'mverytiredand—"

"Mais,monsieur,"theconciergepresd,loweringhisvoicetoan

urgentwhisper."Your

guestisanimportantman."

ksonreligiouspaintingsand

cultsymbologyhadmade

himareluctantcelebrityintheartworld,andlastyearLangdon's

visibilityhadincreada

hundredfoldafterhisinvolvementinawidelypublicizedincidentatthe

hen,the

streamoflf-importanthistoriansandartbuffsarrivingathisdoorhad

emednever-ending.

"Ifyouwouldbesokind,"Langdonsaid,doinghisbesttoremain

polite,"couldyoutake

theman'snameandnumber,andtellhimI'lltrytocallhimbeforeIleave

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ParisonTuesday?

Thankyou."Hehungupbeforetheconciergecouldprotest.

Sittingupnow,LangdonfrownedathisbedsideGuestRelations

Handbook,whocover

boasted:RATTHE

PARIS

edandgazedtiredlyintothefull-lengthmirroracrossthe

staring

backathimwasastranger—tousledandweary.

Youneedavacation,Robert.

Thepastyearhadtakenaheavytollonhim,buthedidn't

appreciateeingproofinthe

stubblewas

histemples,thegray

highlightswere

advancing,makingtheirwaydeeperintohisthicketofcoarblackhair.

Althoughhisfemale

colleaguesinsistedthegrayonlyaccentuatedhisbookishappeal,

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Langdonknewbetter.

IfBostonMagazinecouldemenow.

Lastmonth,muchtoLangdon'mbarrassment,BostonMagazine

hadlistedhimasoneof

thatcity'stoptenmostintriguingpeople—adubiousho