The Depository Bank of Zurich was a twenty-four-hour Geldschrank bank offering the full modernarray of anonymous services in the tradition of the Swiss numbered account. Maintaining offices inZurich, Kuala Lumpur, New York, and Paris, the bank had expanded its services in recent years tooffer anonymous computer source code escrow services and faceless digitized backup.

　　The bread and butter of its operation was by far its oldest and simplest offering—the anonymeLager—blind drop services, otherwise known as anonymous safe-deposit boxes. Clients wishing tostore anything from stock certificates to valuable paintings could deposit their belongingsanonymously, through a series of high-tech veils of privacy, withdrawing items at any time, also intotal anonymity.

　　As Sophie pulled the taxi to a stop in front of their destination, Langdon gazed out at the building'suncompromising architecture and sensed the Depository Bank of Zurich was a firm with little senseof humor. The building was a windowless rectangle that seemed to be forged entirely of dull steel.

　　Resembling an enormous metal brick, the edifice sat back from the road with a fifteen-foot-tall,neon, equilateral cross glowing over its facade.

　　Switzerland's reputation for secrecy in banking had become one of the country's most lucrativeexports. Facilities like this had become controversial in the art community because they provided aperfect place for art thieves to hide stolen goods, for years if necessary, until the heat was off.

　　Because deposits were protected from police inspection by privacy laws and were attached tonumbered accounts rather than people's names, thieves could rest easily knowing their stolen goodswere safe and could never be traced to them.

　　Sophie stopped the taxi at an imposing gate that blocked the bank's driveway—a cement-linedramp that descended beneath the building. A video camera overhead was aimed directly at them,and Langdon had the feeling that this camera, unlike those at the Louvre, was authentic.

　　Sophie rolled down the window and surveyed the electronic podium on the driver's side. An LCDscreen provided directions in seven languages. Topping the list was English.

　　INSERT KEY.

　　Sophie took the gold laser-pocked key from her pocket and turned her attention back to thepodium. Below the screen was a triangular hole.

　　"Something tells me it will fit," Langdon said.

　　Sophie aligned the key's triangular shaft with the hole and inserted it, sliding it in until the entireshaft had disappeared. This key apparently required no turning. Instantly, the gate began to swingopen. Sophie took her foot off the brake and coasted down to a second gate and podium. Behindher, the first gate closed, trapping them like a ship in a lock.

　　Langdon disliked the constricted sensation. Let's hope this second gate works too.

　　This second podium bore familiar directions.

　　INSERT KEY.

　　When Sophie inserted the key, the second gate immediately opened. Moments later they werewinding down the ramp into the belly of the structure.

　　The private garage was small and dim, with spaces for about a dozen cars. At the far end, Langdonspied the building's main entrance. A red carpet stretched across the cement floor, welcomingvisitors to a huge door that appeared to be forged of solid metal.

　　Talk about mixed messages, Langdon thought. Welcome and keep out.

　　Sophie pulled the taxi into a parking space near the entrance and killed the engine. "You'd betterleave the gun here."With pleasure, Langdon thought, sliding the pistol under the seat.

　　Sophie and Langdon got out and walked up the red carpet toward the slab of steel. The door had nohandle, but on the wall beside it was another triangular keyhole. No directions were posted thistime.

　　"Keeps out the slow learners," Langdon said.

　　Sophie laughed, looking nervous. "Here we go." She stuck the key in the hole, and the door swunginward with a low hum. Exchanging glances, Sophie and Langdon entered. The door shut with athud behind them.

　　The foyer of the Depository Bank of Zurich employed as imposing a decor as any Langdon hadever seen. Where most banks were content with the usual polished marble and granite, this one hadopted for wall-to-wall metal and rivets.

　　Who's their decorator? Langdon wondered. Allied Steel?

　　Sophie looked equally intimidated as her eyes scanned the lobby.

　　The gray metal was everywhere—the floor, walls, counters, doors, even the lobby chairs appearedto be fashioned of molded iron. Nonetheless, the effect was impressive. The message was clear:

　　You are walking into a vault.

　　A large man behind the counter glanced up as they entered. He turned off the small television hewas watching and greeted them with a pleasant smile. Despite his enormous muscles and visiblesidearm, his diction chimed with the polished courtesy of a Swiss bellhop.

　　"Bonsoir," he said. "How may I help you?"The dual-language greeting was the newest hospitality trick of the European host. It presumednothing and opened the door for the guest to reply in whichever language was more comfortable.

　　Sophie replied with neither. She simply laid the gold key on the counter in front of the man.

　　The man glanced down and immediately stood straighter. "Of course. Your elevator is at the end ofthe hall. I will alert someone that you are on your way."Sophie nodded and took her key back. "Which floor?"The man gave her an odd look. "Your key instructs the elevator which floor."She smiled. "Ah, yes."The guard watched as the two newcomers made their way to the elevators, inserted their key,boarded the lift, and disappeared. As soon as the door had closed, he grabbed the phone. He wasnot calling to alert anyone of their arrival; there was no ne............