Page 125 of The Secret of Secrets

Chapter 80

The eighteen-meter swimming pool beneath Petschek Villa was built in the style of a traditional Roman bath. Encircled by a double ring of forty-eight red marble columns, the azure and white pool was heated by twin coal furnaces and was considered the mansion’s most opulent luxury.

According to lore, the pool was used for only one season before Otto Petschek’s daughter caught pneumonia in it and nearly died. Petschek immediately emptied the pool and declared it forever off-limits.

Robert Langdon stood at the foot of the empty and forgotten pool, scanning the subterranean space for any exit other than the narrow stairs that he and Katherine had just descended in a frantic attempt to find a way out of the house.

“Of course you’d find a pool,” Katherine whispered in the reverberant space. “Too bad it’s empty, or you could take your second swim of the day.”

Third, Langdon thought. If you count the Vltava.

Langdon had hoped the stairs might descend to a basement exit so they would be able to flee the ambassador’s residence, but the pool room had no exits. Dead end. Overhead, the frantic footfalls of the ambassador echoed down through the vents as she rushed around the south wing, no doubt looking for her missing guests. Apparently, she knew her house well enough to calculate their limited options for escape, and it took her less than thirty seconds to appear on the staircase, descending toward the pool.

Langdon half expected Ambassador Nagel to arrive with a U.S. Marine at her side, but when she came down the stairs, she was alone. Without a word, she marched over to where they were standing and held up the two NDAs that Langdon and Katherine had left unsigned on the coffee table. Then she tore the documents into pieces, letting the scraps flutter down onto the empty pool tile.

Langdon watched in confusion. What is she doing?

Having fully shredded the papers, the ambassador fixed them both with a serious gaze and raised an index finger to her lips, admonishing them not to say a word. Then she pulled out her cell phone, touched a few buttons, and placed an outbound call…on speakerphone.

“Finch,” a man’s voice answered, crackling out of the speaker. “Everything under control?” His accent was American with a touch of a Southern drawl.

“Yes, we’re just waiting,” the ambassador said. “How far out are you?”

“Just landing. I’ll be there within the hour.”

“Please tell me you have news on Michael Harris,” Nagel said urgently. “I’m worried about his safety.”

“If Harris is blown,” the man replied, “there’s nothing we can do about it now. He’s probably irrelevant at this point, anyway. He confirmed for us that Sasha is not talking, and that’s—”

“Irrelevant?!” Nagel demanded. “Michael is involved in this…at your command.”

“Forget about Harris. Just stay focused on the task at hand. Where are you, by the way? Your voice is echoing.”

“In my bathroom. I needed privacy to call.”

“Where are Langdon and Solomon?”

“I left them in the library,” she said, “and told them to relax until you arrive.”

Langdon shot Katherine a startled look.

“Did you admit the hotel surveillance?” Finch asked.

“I did,” Nagel replied. “As you suggested.”

“And it worked?” the man asked.

“Like a charm.”

“They both signed the NDAs?”

“They did,” the ambassador said without hesitation. “Your nondisclosures are signed, sealed, and locked in my personal safe.”

“Excellent,” Finch said, sounding relieved. “It will be good to have leverage on Langdon as well.”

Langdon and Katherine were now staring at each other in utter bewilderment.

“And just to confirm,” the man said, “you have physical proof that the hard-copy manuscript in question was burned?”