Page 50 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)

Like its Parisian inspiration, Pet?ín Tower was built in an open-lattice construction of riveted steel beams and supports.

Apart from their differing heights, the towers of Paris and Prague look markedly similar in silhouette, the only obvious exception being Eiffel Tower’s square base and Pet?ín Tower’s octagonal one.

When Langdon’s taxi finally reached the wooded parking lot at the base of Pet?ín Tower, he anxiously scanned the deserted area for signs of life.

I have Katherine. Come to Pet?ín Tower.

Langdon quickly paid the fare, including a generous tip, and asked the driver to wait for him. The cabbie muttered something in tense Czech and sped off as soon as Langdon had stepped out and closed the door, leaving him alone in the windy parking lot.

Thanks a lot.

Pet?ín Tower was considerably taller than Langdon recalled, and today it seemed to sway against the gray sky.

The snow-dusted forest surrounding the tower looked quiet and majestic, with only a handful of groundskeepers and employees starting their day.

Langdon saw no sign of Katherine, nor anyone suspicious.

Trying to forget this hill’s history of human sacrifice, Langdon moved quickly toward the tower itself, hoping with a pang in his chest that Katherine would indeed be somewhere up here… and safe.

Beneath Pet?ín Tower stood the visitor’s center, a low octagonal building nestled perfectly within the tower’s eight massive supporting legs.

The building had a gently sloping roof through which ascended a slender shaft that climbed all the way to the top of the tower.

Tiny elevator, Langdon knew. Unfortunately, option number two was a tightly wound, open-air staircase that spiraled around the shaft all the way up.

Neither mode of ascent looked particularly inviting.

As he neared the tower, Langdon heard the grinding of elevator gears and the scraping of metal on metal as the carriage moved upward into the shaft.

Someone is going to the top, he thought expectantly. Katherine?

He rushed into the visitor’s hall, an octagonal room decorated with historical photos of the tower’s construction. The hall was deserted except for a young female attendant who was unpacking boxes of Prague paraphernalia.

“Dobré ráno!” she said cheerily. “Good morning!”

“Good morning,” Langdon replied. “Is the tower open?”

“Just now,” she replied. “Only two people at the top. Would you like a ticket?”

Langdon felt his pulse quicken. Two people.

He couldn’t help but wonder if it was Katherine and her captor.

Am I supposed to go up? The note had not been specific, but Langdon was not about to take that chance.

The thought of Katherine in the hands of some lunatic, hundreds of feet up on an open-air observation platform, filled him with dread.

Langdon bought a ticket and waited outside the elevator door.

Somewhere above him, the carriage ground its way noisily back down from the top.

When the doors finally rattled open, Langdon found himself peering into a tiny, awkwardly shaped cabin that looked like it hadn’t been refurbished since the 1800s.

Instinctively, he turned his gaze to the nearby spiral staircase, which was cordoned off with a swag and a placard: ZAV?ENO / CLOSED . Another sign warned that the 299 stairs were extremely steep.

“Are the stairs open?” Langdon asked, hoping the attendant was just now opening and had not yet removed the sign for the day.

“Closed for winter,” she said. “Too windy…and the snow and ice today!”

Terrific. He peered reluctantly into the lift’s tiny compartment, and three words echoed in his mind.

I have Katherine.

Taking a deep breath, Langdon stepped into the lift. He pressed the button, and the doors lurched shut. As the carriage rattled upward, he focused his attention on the metal engraving on the wall, where a series of red lights blinked on and off to indicate his progress.

As the lift climbed, Langdon began feeling increasingly unprepared for whomever or whatever he might find up here.

He wondered if he had been a fool not to take the gun from Sasha.

What if her captor is armed? The higher he went, the more the elevator walls began closing in around him.

Langdon closed his eyes and hummed the country song “Wide Open Spaces.”

When the lift finally slowed to a stop, Langdon braced himself and opened his eyes.

The elevator doors rumbled open, and Langdon felt an instantaneous surge of relief to see open air, but that emotion was immediately dampened by disappointment.

The couple on top of the tower were both in their twenties, of Indian descent, and happily taking pictures of Prague.

Katherine was not here.

Langdon urged himself to be patient; he had, after all, left Sasha’s apartment immediately upon receiving the note and arrived here quickly.

I’m early, he concluded, which in some ways might even be better.

I can see them coming, he thought, walking to the railing and peering down at the parking lot far below.

The wind was gusting more fiercely now, and the swaying tower only accentuated Langdon’s already precarious mind-set.

As he paced the narrow observation platform that encircled the elevator, he passed the descending spiral staircase, its entrance cordoned off by a No Entry sign and the ominous graphic of a person being blown off the tower. No, thank you.

Langdon found a somewhat sheltered spot to wait, overlooking the woods of Pet?ín Park.

The popular tourist site offered numerous attractions for children, including a secret garden, a rope playground, swingsets, and a carousel, which was just now being uncovered for the day.

His eye fell on the Church of St. Lawrence far below, where the ancient pagan sacrificial altar had once existed, and Langdon thought again of the rumors of roaming ghosts and murdered virgins.

Not exactly family-friendly, he mused and raised his gaze higher, tracing the quintessential Prague panorama…the twin spires of Vy?ehrad, the Powder Tower, Charles Bridge, and the monolithic St. Vitus Cathedral, surrounded by the sprawling fortification of Prague Castle.

Katherine had lectured in that castle just last night, and Langdon now wondered if perhaps her abduction might in some way relate to something she’d said in her lecture…or in her scientific research. If so, he had no idea what it could be.

Another possibility had occurred to Langdon as well.

He was starting to have misgivings about the authenticity of Katherine’s ransom note.

Something about the message seemed off. Who are you?

Why Pet?ín Tower? None of it made a lot of rational sense, and it seemed possible that the note was all part of some strange ploy.

“Sir?” a voice said behind him.

Langdon turned to see the young Indian couple. The woman was smiling and holding out her phone to Langdon. “Would you mind taking our photo? I left my selfie stick in the hotel.”

The young man looked apologetic. “Sorry. Instagram honeymoon.”

Langdon gathered himself. “Of course.”

The woman positioned her husband at the railing, joined him, and gave Langdon the all clear. After taking several photos, Langdon was about to return the phone, but the woman asked him to keep shooting while they tried out various poses and expressions.

“She has a lot of followers,” the man said, clearly mortified.

Immortality through fame, Langdon mused as he took photographs, recalling that Shakespeare, Homer, and Horace had all opined that the uniquely human desire to be “famous” was, in fact, the symptom of another uniquely human trait—our fear of death.

To be famous meant you would be remembered long after you died… fame a kind of eternal life.

“That should do it!” the woman said, reaching out for her phone. “Let me check them!”

Langdon returned her device, noticing the sea of red notification badges on all her social media apps. The world’s new popularity metric. Digital applause.

She swiped through photos, nodding. “They look perfect!” she gushed. “Thank you!”

Langdon managed a smile. “Congratulations.”

The newlyweds headed back to the elevator, having been up here only long enough to photograph themselves before moving on, most likely to the next photo opportunity. Langdon sometimes sensed the only reason to do anything anymore was to post it for the world to see.

As the elevator doors rumbled open, Langdon was struck by a thought. “Excuse me,” he called to the couple. “Could I ask a small favor?”

They paused in the doorway, holding the door open and looking back at him.

“I was supposed to meet someone here,” Langdon said. “But she never arrived. I lost my phone this morning, and I was wondering if I might use yours to give her a quick call?”

The woman looked as if Langdon had asked to hold her newborn, but after a nudge from her husband, she reluctantly handed over her phone.

With the young couple watching him closely, Langdon quickly dialed the number he had seen repeatedly on the Four Seasons registration desk, and the familiar voice of the hotel manager answered on the first ring.

“Thank you for calling the Four—”

“Good morning, sir,” Langdon interrupted. “This is Robert Langdon. I need to speak to Katherine Solomon immediately. It’s important.”

“Oh, hello, Professor.” The manager’s enthusiasm cooled abruptly. “I don’t believe Dr. Solomon is here. She left the hotel this morning while you were…swimming.”

“She never came back?”

“I haven’t seen her, sir. I’ll try your room.”

As the line to their suite began ringing with no answer, Langdon had to accept the frightening reality that Katherine might not have returned to the hotel this morning. So where did she go?! As he tried to imagine where she could be, an odd thought struck him.

I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier…

The line was still ringing, and the Indian couple looked increasingly impatient as they held open the elevator door and waited to descend.

“Sweetie!” Langdon blurted suddenly, pretending someone had answered. “Where are you?! I’m at Pet?ín Tower and—” He fell silent, as if listening, and then gasped dramatically. “Wait, what?! Slow down. Just talk to me…”

Langdon indicated he needed a moment of privacy, and without waiting for consent, he turned his back on the couple and walked around the platform, out of sight behind the shaft, immediately launching a web browser.

Katherine may have tried to reach me this morning…

He had been so caught up in the chaos of the morning that he had not been thinking clearly, but the red notification badges on the woman’s apps were now reminding him of those same notifications on his own laptop.

Email. For years before this trip, Katherine and Langdon had always communicated that way.

Katherine called it old-school, but Langdon despised the implied urgency of texting, so they defaulted to email.

If Katherine had tried to reach him this morning by phone or text with no reply, he realized, she would likely have sent him an email that he could read on his laptop.

I never checked mine this morning!

Langdon quickly navigated to gmail.com and signed into his account. His inbox started to load, displaying very slowly. Come on!

The elevator door was buzzing, apparently protesting being held open for so long.

Finally, the screen refreshed, and Langdon’s inbox appeared.

You Have 31 Unread Messages.

He cursed his overflowing inbox and rapidly scanned the list of incoming messages from colleagues, friends, and assorted spam. As he neared the bottom of the list, he was losing hope.

Then he saw it. Yes!

From: Katherine Solomon

The time stamp was 7:42 a.m. this morning—after Katherine had left the hotel but before her meeting with Gessner.

Strangely, the subject line was blank.

Heart racing, Langdon tapped to open the message, but when it displayed, it was also blank.

There’s nothing here? An instant later, he noticed the icon indicating there was a graphic attached to the message.

She sent a photo? He stabbed at the icon, and the cursor began spinning again as the image loaded.

The phone showed only one bar of service.

“Sir?” a voice demanded nearby.

Langdon looked up and saw the young man coming around the elevator shaft.

“What are you doing?!” the man demanded. “You said you had to make a call! Are you looking through her—”

“No!” Langdon said. “I need to check an incoming message. I’m sorry. It’s very important.” He held up the blank screen. “It’s just loading. I’ll give it back in a second.”

“I’d like it back now, sir,” the man said, walking toward him.

The elevator continued buzzing.

Load, goddammit!

The wind whipped harder, and the woman began calling for her husband.

“Sir!” The man held out his hand for the phone.

“Please…one second,” Langdon said as the cursor spun. “I really need to see—”

“Now!” the young man demanded. “You have no righ—”

“Here it is!” Langdon shouted as the image finally materialized before him.

Whether the wind had just moved the tower or his knees had gone weak, Langdon wasn’t sure, but he felt suddenly off-balance. The image on the screen was as unexpected as anything he could ever imagine Katherine sending him.

Langdon stared for a long moment at the bizarre “message,” letting his eidetic memory take a mental snapshot of it. Then he quit the browser and handed the phone back to the young man, who grabbed it and stalked angrily off.

A few seconds later, Langdon heard the elevator begin its descent.