Page 66 of The Secret of Secrets

“It is clear,” Gessner said, sounding irked, “that symbologists and noeticists are a perfect match for one another.” She took a sip of her drink. “You both see meaning where there is none.”

Chapter 41

Sasha Vesna’s first-floor apartment was small but homey—tastefully furnished, well organized, and with plentiful natural light. As Langdon stepped inside, he breathed in the smoky scent of malt that hung in the air.

“Russian Caravan tea,” Sasha offered, sounding self-conscious about the noticeable smell. “And I have cats…”

As if on cue, a lithe pair of Siamese cats materialized at the far end of the hallway and padded toward them. Langdon crouched down to pet them, and they hurried over for attention.

“They love men,” Sasha said, and then awkwardly added, “Not that they have seen many!”

Langdon smiled politely. “Well, they’re beautiful animals.”

“That one’s Sally. He’s Harry. I named them after my favorite movie.” Sasha pointed to an old movie poster hanging nearby. “Dr. Gessner got me that.”

The film title was in Russian, but Langdon recognized Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal standing face-to-face against the New York skyline. He’d never seen the classic When Harry Met Sally, but he’d heard about the famous “sex scene” in a New York deli.

“I always loved American romantic comedies,” Sasha said. “It’s how I learned English.” She admired the poster a moment, her eyes clouding with sadness. “My cats were a gift from Dr. Gessner too…so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“Very thoughtful of her,” Langdon said.

Sasha removed her heavy shoes and left them on a rubber mat just inside the doorway. Langdon followed suit, happy again to be out of his damp loafers.

“The bathroom is there if you need it,” she said, motioning toward an alcove partway down the hall.

“Thank you,” Langdon replied. “I’ll take you up on that.”

“I’ll put on some tea,” she said, leaving him and disappearing down the hallway.

Langdon stood a moment, eyeing the poster, Katherine again on his mind. The New York skyline and the Columbia Pictures logo—a robed woman holding up a torch—conjured images of the Statue of Liberty…and Katherine’s lecture last night.

Where are you right now? he wondered as he walked to the bathroom. He was anxious to call the Four Seasons to see if Katherine had returned to the hotel, but as Harris had implied, ÚZSI would be looking for Langdon and Sasha for assaulting an officer and fleeing the scene. He would need to wait for the attaché to arrive.

The bathroom was cramped but orderly, and Langdon felt self-conscious using Sasha’s personal space. After washing his hands, he dried them on his own pants to spare Sasha’s perfectly arranged hand towels. When he glanced into the mirror, the face staring back at him looked like a stranger’s. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was disheveled, and deep stress lines furrowed his brow. You look like hell, Robert. Considering the morning he’d had, it was not surprising. Just get to the embassy and find Katherine.

When Langdon returned to the kitchen, Sasha was pouring dried cat food into two bowls on the counter. Harry and Sally vaulted up effortlessly and began devouring the food.

Sasha moved to the stove, where a kettle was simmering. “How do you take your tea?”

With coffee, he wanted to say. “Plain is perfect. Thank you.”

She set out three teacups, three saucers, and three spoons. “I’m going to use the bathroom,” she said, moving for the door. “Then I’ll pour us some tea. Michael should be here in fifteen minutes or so.”

Langdon heard her padding up the hallway and closing the bathroom door.

The apartment fell silent except for the sound of the simmering water. Alone in the kitchen, Langdon eyed Sasha’s cell phone on the counter and was again tempted to call the Four Seasons. Then again, Janáček had probably staked out the hotel by now, so it was anyone’s guess as to where Katherine was at the moment.

The water had just begun to boil when Langdon heard a sharp knock at the apartment door. Odd, he thought, doubting it would be Harris already. Langdon felt suddenly fearful that Janáček or Pavel might have followed them here…or taken a logical guess to check Sasha’s apartment.

He hurried around the corner into the hallway just as Sasha was emerging from the bathroom, drying her hands. She looked concerned and silently mouthed to Langdon, “Did someone knock?”

Langdon nodded.

From the look on Sasha’s face, a visitor was unexpected. They waited fifteen seconds in total silence, but there was no second knock. Sasha padded to the door and peered through the peephole. After a long moment, she turned back to Langdon and shrugged. Nobody.

Langdon now saw that a small white slip of paper was lying on the floor, sticking out from beneath the door. “Someone left you something,” he whispered, pointing.

Sasha glanced down and spotted the paper. Looking puzzled, she crouched down and pulled it from beneath the door. From the little Langdon could see, it appeared to be a handwritten note.