Katherine could not believe what she was hearing, and yet she kept her emotions in check. «I hope you don’t mind, Dr. Abaddon, but I’d prefer not to discuss the details of my work. I have no immediate plans to make anything public. For the time being, my discoveries will remain safely locked in my lab.»

«Interesting.» Abaddon leaned back in his chair, lost in thought for a moment. «In any event, I asked your brother to come back today because yesterday he suffered a bit of a break. When that happens, I like to have clients — »

«Break?» Katherine’s heart was pounding. » As in breakdown?» She couldn’t imagine her brother breaking down over anything.

abaddon reached out kindly. «please, i can see i’ve upset you. i’m sorry. considering these awkward circumstances, i can understand how you might feel entitled to answers.»

«Whether I’m entitled or not,» Katherine said, «my brother is all I have left of my family. Nobody knows him better than I do, so if you tell me what the hell happened, maybe I can help you. We all want the same thing — what’s best for Peter.»

Dr. Abaddon fell silent for several long moments and then began slowly nodding as if Katherine might have a point. Finally, he spoke. «For the record, Ms. Solomon, if I decide to share this information with you, I would do so only because I think your insights might help me assist your brother.»

«Of course.»

Abaddon leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. «Ms. Solomon, as long as I’ve been seeing your brother, I’ve sensed in him a deep struggle with feelings of guilt. I’ve never pressed him on it because that’s not why he comes to me. And yet yesterday, for a number of reasons, I finally asked him about it.» Abaddon locked eyes with her. «Your brother opened up, rather dramatically and unexpectedly. He told me things I had not expected to hear. . including everything that happened the night your mother died.»

Christmas Eve — almost exactly ten years ago. She died in my arms.

«He told me your mother was murdered during a robbery attempt at your home? A man broke in looking for something he believed your brother was hiding?»

«That’s correct.»

Abaddon’s eyes were appraising her. «Your brother said he shot the man dead?»

«Yes.»

Abaddon stroked his chin. «Do you recall what the intruder was looking for when he broke into your home?»

Katherine had tried in vain for ten years to block out the memory. «Yes, his demand was very specific. Unfortunately, none of us knew what he was talking about. His demand never made sense to any of us.»

«Well, it made sense to your brother.»

«What?» Katherine sat up.

«At least according to the story he told me yesterday, Peter knew exactly what the intruder was looking for. And yet your brother did not want to hand it over, so he pretended not to understand.»

«That’s absurd. Peter couldn’t possibly have known what the man wanted. His demands made no sense!»

«interesting.» dr. abaddon paused and took a few notes. «as i mentioned, however, peter told me he did know. Your brother believes if he had only cooperated with the intruder, maybe your mother would be alive today. This decision is the source of all his guilt.»

Katherine shook her head. «That’s crazy. .»

Abaddon slumped, looking troubled. «Ms. Solomon, this has been useful feedback. As I feared, your brother seems to have had a little break with reality. I must admit, I was afraid this might be the case. That’s why I asked him to come back today. These delusional episodes are not uncommon when they relate to traumatic memories.»

Katherine shook her head again. «Peter is far from delusional, Dr. Abaddon.»

«I would agree, except. .»

«Except what?»

«Except that his recounting of the attack was just the beginning. . a tiny fraction of the long and far-fetched tale he told me.»

Katherine leaned forward in her seat. «What did Peter tell you?»

Abaddon gave a sad smile. «Ms. Solomon, let me ask you this. Has your brother ever discussed with you what he believes is hidden here in Washington, D.C. . or the role he believes he plays in protecting a great treasure. . of lost ancient wisdom?»

Katherine’s jaw fell open. «What in the world are you talking about?»

Dr. Abaddon heaved a long sigh. «What I am about to tell you will be a bit shocking, Katherine.» He paused and locked eyes with her. «But it will be immeasurably helpful if you can tell me anything you may know about it.» He reached for her cup. «More tea?»

Another tattoo.

Langdon crouched anxiously beside Peter’s open palm and examined the seven tiny symbols that had been hidden beneath the lifeless clenched fingers.

«They appear to be numbers,» Langdon said, surprised. «Although I don’t recognize them.»

«The first is a Roman numeral,» Anderson said.

«Actually, I don’t think so,» Langdon corrected. «The Roman numeral I–I-I–X doesn’t exist. It would be written V–I-I.»

«How about the rest of it?» Sato asked.

«I’m not sure. It looks like eight-eight-five in Arabic numbers.»

«Arabic?» Anderson asked. «They look like normal numbers.»

«Our normal numbers are Arabic.» Langdon had become so accustomed to clarifying this point for his students that he’d actually prepared a lecture about the scientific advances made by early Middle Eastern cultures, one of them being our modern numbering system, whose advantages over Roman numerals included ‘positional notation’ and the invention of the number zero. Of course, Langdon always ended this lecture with a reminder that Arab culture had also given mankind the word al-kuhl — the favorite beverage of Harvard freshmen — known as alcohol.

Langdon scrutinized the tattoo, feeling puzzled. «And I’m not even sure about the eight-eight-five. The rectilinear writing looks unusual. Those may not be numbers.»

«Then what are they? Sato asked.

«I’m not sure. The whole tattoo looks almost. . runic.»

«Meaning?» Sato asked.

«runic alphabets are composed solely of straight lines. their letters are called runes and were often used for carving in stone because curves were too difficult to chisel.»

«If these are runes,» Sato said, «what is their meaning?»

Langdon shook his head. His expertise extended only to the most rudimentary runic alphabet — Futhark — a third-century Teutonic system, and this was not Futhark. «To be honest, I’m not even sure these are runes. You’d need to ask a specialist. There are dozens of different forms — Hдlsinge, Manx, the ‘dotted’ Stungnar — »

«Peter Solomon is a Mason, is he not?»

Langdon did a double take. «Yes, but what does that have to do with this?» He stood up now, towering over the tiny woman.

«You tell me. You just said that runic alphabets are used for stone carvings, and it is my understanding that the original Freemasons were stone craftsmen. I mention this only because when I asked my office to search for a connection between the Hand of the Mysteries and Peter Solomon, their search returned one link in particular.» She paused, as if to emphasize the importance of her finding. «The Masons.»

Langdon exhaled, fighting the impulse to tell Sato the same thing he constantly told his students: «Google» is not a synonym for «research.» In these days of massive, worldwide keyword searches, it seemed everything was linked to everything. The world was becoming one big entangled web of information that was getting denser every day.

Langdon maintained a patient tone. «I’m not surprised the Masons appeared in your staff’s search. Masons are a very obvious link between Peter Solomon and any number of esoteric topics.»