Visions of reprisal spurred her on. She approached the tomb of Raphael Santi. Even from a distance she could tell this guy was special. His casket, unlike the others, was protected by a Plexiglas shield and recessed into the wall. Through the barrier she could see the front of the sarcophagus.
Vittoria studied the grave and then read the one-sentence descriptive plaque beside Raphael’s tomb.
Then she read it again.
Then… she read it again.
A moment later, she was dashing in horror across the floor. "Robert! Robert!"
62
Langdon’s progress around his side of the Pantheon was being hampered somewhat by the guide on his heels, now continuing his tireless narration as Langdon prepared to check the final alcove.
"You certainly seem to be enjoying those niches!" the docent said, looking delighted. "Were you aware that the tapering thickness of the walls is the reason the dome appears weightless?"
Langdon nodded, not hearing a word as he prepared to examine another niche. Suddenly someone grabbed him from behind. It was Vittoria. She was breathless and tugging at his arm. From the look of terror on her face, Langdon could only imagine one thing. She found a body. He felt an upswelling of dread.
"Ah, your wife!" the docent exclaimed, clearly thrilled to have another guest. He motioned to her short pants and hiking boots. "Now you I can tell are American!"
Vittoria’s eyes narrowed. "I’m Italian."
The guide’s smile dimmed. "Oh, dear."
"Robert," Vittoria whispered, trying to turn her back on the guide. "Galileo’s Diagramma. I need to see it."
"Diagramma?" the docent said, wheedling back in. "My! You two certainly know your history! Unfortunately that document is not viewable. It is under secret preservation in the Vatican Arc—"
"Could you excuse us?" Langdon said. He was confused by Vittoria’s panic. He took her aside and reached in his pocket, carefully extracting the Diagramma folio. "What’s going on?"
"What’s the date on this thing?" Vittoria demanded, scanning the sheet.
The docent was on them again, staring at the folio, mouth agape. "That’s not… really…"
"Tourist reproduction," Langdon quipped. "Thank you for your help. Please, my wife and I would like a moment alone."
The docent backed off, eyes never leaving the paper.
"Date," Vittoria repeated to Langdon. "When did Galileo publish…"
Langdon pointed to the Roman numeral in the lower liner. "That’s the pub date. What’s going on?"
Vittoria deciphered the number. "1639?"
"Yes. What’s wrong?"
Vittoria’s eyes filled with foreboding. "We’re in trouble, Robert. Big trouble. The dates don’t match."
"What dates don’t match?"
"Raphael’s tomb. He wasn’t buried here until 1759. A century after Diagramma was published."
Langdon stared at her, trying to make sense of the words. "No," he replied. "Raphael died in 1520, long before Diagramma."
"Yes, but he wasn’t buried here until much later."
Langdon was lost. "What are you talking about?"
"I just read it. Raphael’s body was relocated to the Pantheon in 1758. It was part of some historic tribute to eminent Italians."
As the words settled in, Langdon felt like a rug had just been yanked out from under him.
"When that poem was written," Vittoria declared, "Raphael’s tomb was somewhere else. Back then, the Pantheon had nothing at all to do with Raphael!"
Langdon could not breathe. "But that… means…"
"Yes! It means we’re in the wrong place!"
Langdon felt himself sway. Impossible… I was certain…
Vittoria ran over and grabbed the docent, pulling him back. "Signore, excuse us. Where was Raphael’s body in the 1600s?"
"Urb… Urbino," he stammered, now looking bewildered. "His birthplace."
"Impossible!" Langdon cursed to himself. "The Illuminati altars of science were here in Rome. I’m certain of it!"
"Illuminati?" The docent gasped, looking again at the document in Langdon’s hand. "Who are you people?"
Vittoria took charge. "We’re looking for something called Santi’s earthly tomb. In Rome. Can you tell us what that might be?"
The docent looked unsettled. "This was Raphael’s only tomb in Rome."
Langdon tried to think, but his mind refused to engage. If Raphael’s tomb wasn’t in Rome in 1655, then what was the poem referring to? Santi’s earthly tomb with demon’s hole? What the hell is it? Think!
"Was there another artist called Santi?" Vittoria asked.
The docent shrugged. "Not that I know of."
"How about anyone famous at all? Maybe a scientist or a poet or an astronomer named Santi?"
The docent now looked like he wanted to leave. "No, ma’am. The only Santi I’ve ever heard of is Raphael the architect."
"Architect?" Vittoria said. "I thought he was a painter!"
"He was both, of course. They all were. Michelangelo, da Vinci, Raphael."
Langdon didn’t know whether it was the docent’s words or the ornate tombs around them that brought the revelation to mind, but it didn’t matter. The thought occurred. Santi was an architect. From there the progression of thoughts fell like dominoes. Renaissance architects lived for only two reasons—to glorify God with big churches, and to glorify dignitaries with lavish tombs. Santi’s tomb. Could it be? The images came faster now…
da Vinci’s Mona Lisa.
Monet’s Water Lilies.
Michelangelo’s David.
Santi’s earthly tomb…
"Santi designed the tomb," Langdon said.
Vittoria turned. "What?"
"It’s not a reference to where Raphael is buried, it’s referring to a tomb he designed."
"What are you talking about?"
"I misunderstood the clue. It’s not Raphael’s burial site we’re looking for, it’s a tomb Raphael designed for someone else. I can’t believe I missed it. Half of the sculpting done in Renaissance and Baroque Rome was for the funeraries." Langdon smiled with the revelation. "Raphael must have designed hundreds of tombs!"
Vittoria did not look happy. "Hundreds?"
Langdon’s smile faded. "Oh."
"Any of them earthly, professor?"
Langdon felt suddenly inadequate. He knew embarrassingly little about Raphael’s work. Michelangelo he could have helped with, but Raphael’s work had never captivated him. Langdon could only name a couple of Raphael’s more famous tombs, but he wasn’t sure what they looked like.
Apparently sensing Langdon’s stymie, Vittoria turned to the docent, who was now inching away. She grabbed his arm and reeled him in. "I need a tomb. Designed by Raphael. A tomb that could be considered earthly."
The docent now looked distressed. "A tomb of Raphael’s? I don’t know. He designed so many. And you probably would mean a chapel by Raphael, not a tomb. Architects always designed the chapels in conjunction with the tomb."
Langdon realized the man was right.
"Are any of Raphael’s tombs or chapels considered earthly?"