The Da Vinci Code

CHAPTER 30
Security warden Claude Grouard simmered with rage as he stood over his prostrate captive in front 
of the Mona Lisa. This bastard killed Jacques Saunière! Saunière had been like a well-loved father 
to Grouard and his security team.

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Grouard wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger and bury a bullet in Robert Langdon's back. 
As senior warden, Grouard was one of the few guards who actually carried a loaded weapon. He 
reminded himself, however, that killing Langdon would be a generous fate compared to the misery 
about to be communicated by Bezu Fache and the French prison system.
Grouard yanked his walkie-talkie off his belt and attempted to radio for backup. All he heard was 
static. The additional electronic security in this chamber always wrought havoc with the guards' 
communications. I have to move to the doorway. Still aiming his weapon at Langdon, Grouard 
began backing slowly toward the entrance. On his third step, he spied something that made him 
stop short.
What the hell is that!
An inexplicable mirage was materializing near the center of the room. A silhouette. There was 
someone else in the room? A woman was moving through the darkness, walking briskly toward the 
far left wall. In front of her, a purplish beam of light swung back and forth across the floor, as if 
she were searching for something with a colored flashlight.
"Qui est là?" Grouard demanded, feeling his adrenaline spike for a second time in the last thirty 
seconds. He suddenly didn't know where to aim his gun or what direction to move.
"PTS," the woman replied calmly, still scanning the floor with her light.
Police Technique et Scientifique. Grouard was sweating now. I thought all the agents were gone! 
He now recognized the purple light as ultraviolet, consistent with a PTS team, and yet he could not 
understand why DCPJ would be looking for evidence in here.
"Votre nom!" Grouard yelled, instinct telling him something was amiss. "Répondez!"
"C'est mot," the voice responded in calm French. "Sophie Neveu."
Somewhere in the distant recesses of Grouard's mind, the name registered. Sophie Neveu? That 
was the name of Saunière's granddaughter, wasn't it? She used to come in here as a little kid, but 
that was years ago. This couldn't possibly be her! And even if it were Sophie Neveu, that was 
hardly a reason to trust her; Grouard had heard the rumors of the painful falling-out between 
Saunière and his granddaughter.
"You know me," the woman called. "And Robert Langdon did not kill my grandfather. Believe 
me."
Warden Grouard was not about to take that on faith. I need backup! Trying his walkie-talkie again, 
he got only static. The entrance was still a good twenty yards behind him, and Grouard began 

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backing up slowly, choosing to leave his gun trained on the man on the floor. As Grouard inched 
backward, he could see the woman across the room raising her UV light and scrutinizing a large 
painting that hung on the far side of the Salle des Etats, directly opposite the Mona Lisa.
Grouard gasped, realizing which painting it was.
What in the name of God is she doing?
Across the room, Sophie Neveu felt a cold sweat breaking across her forehead. Langdon was still 
spread-eagle on the floor. Hold on, Robert. Almost there. Knowing the guard would never actually 
shoot either of them, Sophie now turned her attention back to the matter at hand, scanning the 
entire area around one masterpiece in particular—another Da Vinci. But the UV light revealed 
nothing out of the ordinary. Not on the floor, on the walls, or even on the canvas itself.