Sophie wondered how long it would take Fache to figure out she had not left the building. Seeingthat Langdon was clearly overwhelmed, Sophie questioned whether she had done the right thing bycornering him here in the men's room.

　　What else was I supposed to do?

　　She pictured her grandfather's body, naked and spread-eagle on the floor. There was a time whenhe had meant the world to her, yet tonight, Sophie was surprised to feel almost no sadness for theman. Jacques Saunière was a stranger to her now. Their relationship had evaporated in a singleinstant one March night when she was twenty-two. Ten years ago. Sophie had come home a fewdays early from graduate university in England and mistakenly witnessed her grandfather engagedin something Sophie was obviously not supposed to see. It was an image she barely could believeto this day.

　　If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes...

　　Too ashamed and stunned to endure her grandfather's pained attempts to explain, Sophieimmediately moved out on her own, taking money she had saved, and getting a small flat withsome roommates. She vowed never to speak to anyone about what she had seen. Her grandfathertried desperately to reach her, sending cards and letters, begging Sophie to meet him so he couldexplain. Explain how!? Sophie never responded except once—to forbid him ever to call her or tryto meet her in public. She was afraid his explanation would be more terrifying than the incidentitself.

　　Incredibly, Saunière had never given up on her, and Sophie now possessed a decade's worth ofcorrespondence unopened in a dresser drawer. To her grandfather's credit, he had never oncedisobeyed her request and phoned her.

　　Until this afternoon.

　　"Sophie?" His voice had sounded startlingly old on her answering machine. "I have abided by yourwishes for so long... and it pains me to call, but I must speak to you. Something terrible hashappened."Standing in the kitchen of her Paris flat, Sophie felt a chill to hear him again after all these years.

　　His gentle voice brought back a flood of fond childhood memories.

　　"Sophie, please listen." He was speaking English to her, as he always did when she was a little girl.

　　Practice French at school. Practice English at home. "You cannot be mad forever. Have you notread the letters that I've sent all these years? Do you not yet understand?" He paused. "We mustspeak at once. Please grant your grandfather this one wish. Call me at the Louvre. Right away. Ibelieve you and I are in grave danger." Sophie stared at the answering machine. Danger? Whatwas he talking about?

　　"Princess..." Her grandfather's voice cracked with an emotion Sophie could not place. "I know I'vekept things from you, and I know it has cost me your love. But it was for your own safety. Nowyou must know the truth. Please, I must tell you the truth about your family."Sophie suddenly could hear her own heart. My family? Sophie's parents had died when she wasonly four. Their car went off a bridge into fast-moving water. Her grandmother and youngerbrother had also been in the car, and Sophie's entire family had been erased in an instant. She had abox of newspaper clippings to confirm it.

　　His words had sent an unexpected surge of longing through her bones. My family! In that fleetinginstant, Sophie saw images from the dream that had awoken her countless times when she was alittle girl: My family is alive! They are coming home! But, as in her dream, the pictures evaporatedinto oblivion.

　　Your family is dead, Sophie. They are not coming home.

　　"Sophie..." her grandfather said on the machine. "I have been waiting for years to tell you. Waitingfor the right moment, but now time has run out. Call me at the Louvre. As soon as you get this. I'llwait here all night. I fear we both may be in danger. There's so much you need to know."The message ended.

　　In the silence, Sophie stood trembling for what felt like minutes. As she considered hergrandfather's message, only one possibility made sense, and his true intent dawned.

　　It was bait.

　　Obviously, her grandfather wanted desperately to see her. He was trying anything. Her disgust forthe man deepened. Sophie wondered if maybe he had fallen terminally ill and had decided toattempt any ploy he could think of to get Sophie to visit him one last time. If so, he had chosenwisely.

　　My family.

　　Now, standing in the darkness of the Louvre men's room, Sophie could hear the echoes of thisafternoon's phone message. Sophie, we both may be in danger. Call me.

　　She had not called him. Nor had she planned to. Now, however, her skepticism had been deeplychallenged. Her grandfather lay murdered inside his own museum. And he had written a code onthe floor.

　　A code for her. Of this, she was certain.

　　Despite not understanding the meaning of his message, Sophie was certain its cryptic nature wasadditional proof that the words were intended for her. Sophie's passion and aptitude forcryptography were a product of growing up with Jacques Saunière—a fanatic himself for codes,word games, and puzzles. How many Sundays did we spend doing the cryptograms and crosswordsin the newspaper?

　　At the age of twelve, Sophie could finish the Le Monde crossword without any help, and hergrandfather graduated her to crosswords in English, mathematical puzzles, and substitution ciphers.

　　Sophie devoured them all. Eventually she turned her passion into a profession by becoming acodebreaker for the Judicial Police.

　　Tonight, the cryptographer in Sophie was forced to respect the efficiency with which hergrandfather had used a............