The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

caught. He jumped from his bed.
Where do I run?
    “The Book of Acts,” a voice said from the door.
    The ghost turned, frightened.
    The young priest was smiling as he entered. His nose was awkwardly bandaged, and he was holding out an old Bible. “I found one in French for you. The chapter is marked.”
    Uncertain, the ghost took the Bible and looked at the chapter the priest had marked.
    Acts 16.
    The verses told of a prisoner named Silas who lay naked and beaten in his cell, singing hymns to God. When the ghost reached Verse 26, he gasped in shock.
    “. . . And suddenly, there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken, and all the doors fell open.”
    His eyes shot up at the priest.
    The priest smiled warmly. “From now on, my friend, if you have no other name, I shall call you Silas.”
    The ghost nodded blankly.
Silas
. He had been given flesh.
My name is Silas
.
    “It's time for breakfast,” the priest said. “You will need your strength if you are to help me build this church.”
     
    Twenty thousand feet above the Mediterranean, Alitalia flight 1618 bounced in turbulence, causing passengers to shift nervously. Bishop Aringarosa barely noticed. His thoughts were with the future of Opus Dei. Eager to know how plans in Paris were progressing, he wished he could phone Silas. But he could not. The Teacher had seen to that.
    “It is for your own safety,” the Teacher had explained, speaking in English with a French accent. “I am familiar enough with electronic communications to know they can be intercepted. The results could be disastrous for you.”
    Aringarosa knew he was right. The Teacher seemed an exceptionally careful man. He had not revealed his own identity to Aringarosa, and yet he had proven himself a man well worth obeying. After all, he had somehow obtained very secret information.
The names of the brotherhood's four top members!
This had been one of the coups that convinced the bishop the Teacher was truly capable of delivering the astonishing prize he claimed he could unearth.
    “Bishop,” the Teacher had told him, “I have made all the arrangements. For my plan to succeed, you must allow Silas to answer
only
to me for several days. The two of you will not speak. I will communicate with him through secure channels.”
    “You will treat him with respect?”
    “A man of faith deserves the highest.”
    “Excellent. Then I understand. Silas and I shall not speak until this is over.”
    “I do this to protect your identity, Silas's identity, and my investment.”
    “Your investment?”
    “Bishop, if your own eagerness to keep abreast of progress puts you in jail, then you will be unable to pay me my fee.”
    The bishop smiled. “A fine point. Our desires are in accord. Godspeed.”
    Twenty million euro,
the bishop thought, now gazing out the plane's window. The sum was approximately the same number of U.S. dollars.
A pittance for something so powerful
.
    He felt a renewed confidence that the Teacher and Silas would not fail. Money and faith were powerful motivators.

CHAPTER 11
    “Une plaisanterie
numérique?”
Bezu Fache was livid, glaring at Sophie Neveu in disbelief.
A numeric joke?
“Your professional assessment of Saunière's code is that it is some kind of mathematical prank?”
    Fache was in utter incomprehension of this woman's gall. Not only had she just barged in on Fache without permission, but she was now trying to convince him that Saunière, in his final moments of life, had been inspired to leave a mathematical gag?
    “This code,” Sophie explained in rapid French, “is simplistic to the point of absurdity. Jacques Saunière must have known we would see through it immediately.” She pulled a scrap of paper from her sweater pocket and handed it to Fache. “Here is the decryption.”
    Fache looked at the card.
    1-1-2-3-5-8-13-21
    “This is it?” he snapped. “All you did was put the numbers in increasing order!”
    Sophie actually had the