The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown Read Free Book Online Page B

“Unfortunately, the United States military has also perverted the pentacle; it's now our foremost symbol of war. We paint it on all our fighter jets and hang it on the shoulders of all our generals.”
So much for the goddess of love and beauty
.
    “Interesting.” Fache nodded toward the spread-eagle corpse. “And the positioning of the body? What do you make of that?”
    Langdon shrugged. “The position simply reinforces the reference to the pentacle and sacred feminine.”
    Fache's expression clouded. “I beg your pardon?”
    “Replication. Repeating a symbol is the simplest way to strengthen its meaning. Jacques Saunière positioned himself in the shape of a five-pointed star.”
If one pentacle is good, two is better
.
    Fache's eyes followed the five points of Saunière's arms, legs, and head as he again ran a hand across his slick hair. “Interesting analysis.” He paused. “And the
nudity?
” He grumbled as he spoke the word, sounding repulsed by the sight of an aging male body. “Why did he remove his clothing?”
    Damned good question,
Langdon thought. He'd been wondering the same thing ever since he first saw the Polaroid. His best guess was that a naked human form was yet another endorsement of Venus—the goddess of human sexuality. Although modern culture had erased much of Venus's association with the male/female physical union, a sharp etymological eye could still spot a vestige of Venus's original meaning in the word “venereal.” Langdon decided not to go there.
    “Mr. Fache, I obviously can't tell you why Mr. Saunière drew that symbol on himself or placed himself in this way, but I
can
tell you that a man like Jacques Saunière would consider the pentacle a sign of the female deity. The correlation between this symbol and the sacred feminine is widely known by art historians and symbologists.”
    “Fine. And the use of his own blood as ink?”
    “Obviously he had nothing else to write with.”
    Fache was silent a moment. “Actually, I believe he used blood such that the police would follow certain forensic procedures.”
    “I'm sorry?”
    “Look at his left hand.”
    Langdon's eyes traced the length of the curator's pale arm to his left hand but saw nothing. Uncertain, he circled the corpse and crouched down, now noting with surprise that the curator was clutching a large, felt-tipped marker.
    “Saunière was holding it when we found him,” Fache said, leaving Langdon and moving several yards to a portable table covered with investigation tools, cables, and assorted electronic gear. “As I told you,” he said, rummaging around the table, “we have touched nothing. Are you familiar with this kind of pen?”
    Langdon knelt down farther to see the pen's label.
    STYLO DE LUMIERE NOIRE .
    He glanced up in surprise.
    The black-light pen or watermark stylus was a specialized felt-tipped marker originally designed by museums, restorers, and forgery police to place invisible marks on items. The stylus wrote in a noncorrosive, alcohol-based fluorescent ink that was visible only under black light. Nowadays, museum maintenance staffs carried these markers on their daily rounds to place invisible “tick marks” on the frames of paintings that needed restoration.
    As Langdon stood up, Fache walked over to the spotlight and turned it off. The gallery plunged into sudden darkness.
    Momentarily blinded, Langdon felt a rising uncertainty. Fache's silhouette appeared, illuminated in bright purple. He approached carrying a portable light source, which shrouded him in a violet haze.
    “As you may know,” Fache said, his eyes luminescing in the violet glow, “police use black-light illumination to search crime scenes for blood and other forensic evidence. So you can imagine our surprise . . .” Abruptly, he pointed the light down at the corpse.
    Langdon looked down and jumped back in shock.
    His heart pounded as he took in the bizarre sight now glowing before him on the parquet floor. Scrawled in