AMON L'ISA
* * * “Ring any bells?” he asked. “Mona Lisa... holy crap,” somebody gasped. Langdon nodded. “Gentlemen, not only does the face of Mona Lisa look androgynous, but her name is an anagram of the divine union of male and female. And that, my friends, is Da Vinci’s little secret, and the reason for Mona Lisa’s knowing smile.”
* * * “My grandfather was here,” Sophie said, dropping suddenly to her knees, now only ten feet from the Mona Lisa. She pointed the black light tentatively to a spot on the parquet floor. At first Langdon saw nothing. Then, as he knelt beside her, he saw a tiny droplet of dried liquid that was luminescing. Ink? Suddenly he recalled what black lights were actually used for. Blood. His senses tingled. Sophie was right. Jacques Sauniere had indeed paid a visit to the Mona Lisa before he died. “He wouldn’t have come here without a reason,” Sophie whispered, standing up. “I know he left a message for me here.” Quickly striding the final few steps to the Mona Lisa, she illuminated the floor directly in front of the painting. She waved the light back and forth across the bare parquet. “There’s nothing here!” At that moment, Langdon saw a faint purple glimmer on the protective glass before the Mona Lisa. Reaching down, he took Sophie’s wrist and slowly moved the light up to the painting itself. They both froze. On the glass, six words glowed in purple, scrawled directly across the Mona Lisa’s face.
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