The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown Page B

shock on Langdon's face was genuine, and yet he sensed another emotion there too, as if a distant fear were suddenly simmering in the American's eyes. “I'm sorry to hear that,” Fache said, watching Langdon closely. “Would you like to sit down?” He motioned toward one of the viewing benches in the gallery.
    Langdon nodded absently and took a few steps toward the bench. He paused, looking more confused with every moment. “Actually, I think I'd like to use the rest room.”
    Fache frowned inwardly at the delay. “The rest room. Of course. Let's take a break for a few minutes.” He motioned back down the long hallway in the direction they had come from. “The rest rooms are back toward the curator's office.”
    Langdon hesitated, pointing in the other direction toward the far end of the Grand Gallery corridor. “I believe there's a much closer rest room at the end.”
    Fache realized Langdon was right. They were two thirds of the way down, and the Grand Gallery dead-ended at a pair of rest rooms. “Shall I accompany you?”
    Langdon shook his head, already moving deeper into the gallery. “Not necessary. I think I'd like a few minutes alone.”
    Fache was not wild about the idea of Langdon wandering alone down the remaining length of corridor, but he took comfort in knowing the Grand Gallery was a dead end whose only exit was at the other end—the gate under which they had entered. Although French fire regulations required several emergency stairwells for a space this large, those stairwells had been sealed automatically when Saunière tripped the security system. Granted, that system had now been reset, unlocking the stairwells, but it didn't matter—the external doors, if opened, would set off fire alarms and were guarded outside by DCPJ agents. Langdon could not possibly leave without Fache knowing about it.
    “I need to return to Mr. Saunière's office for a moment,” Fache said. “Please come find me directly, Mr. Langdon. There is more we need to discuss.”
    Langdon gave a quiet wave as he disappeared into the darkness.
    Turning, Fache marched angrily in the opposite direction. Arriving at the gate, he slid under, exited the Grand Gallery, marched down the hall, and stormed into the command center at Saunière's office.
    “Who gave the approval to let Sophie Neveu into this building!” Fache bellowed.
    Collet was the first to answer. “She told the guards outside she'd broken the code.”
    Fache looked around. “Is she gone?”
    “She's not with you?”
    “She left.” Fache glanced out at the darkened hallway. Apparently Sophie had been in no mood to stop by and chat with the other officers on her way out.
    For a moment, Fache considered radioing the guards in the entresol and telling them to stop Sophie and drag her back up here before she could leave the premises. He thought better of it. That was only his pride talking . . . wanting the last word. He'd had enough distractions tonight.
    Deal with Agent Neveu later,
he told himself, already looking forward to firing her.
    Pushing Sophie from his mind, Fache stared for a moment at the miniature knight standing on Saunière's desk. Then he turned back to Collet. “Do you have him?”
    Collet gave a curt nod and spun the laptop toward Fache. The red dot was clearly visible on the floor plan overlay, blinking methodically in a room marked TOILETTES PUBLIQUES .
    “Good,” Fache said, lighting a cigarette and stalking into the hall. “I've got a phone call to make. Be damned sure the rest room is the only place Langdon goes.”

CHAPTER 12
    Robert Langdon felt light-headed as he trudged toward the end of the Grand Gallery. Sophie's phone message played over and over in his mind. At the end of the corridor, illuminated signs bearing the international stick-figure symbols for rest rooms guided him through a maze-like series of dividers displaying Italian drawings and hiding the rest rooms from sight.
    Finding the men's room door, Langdon entered and