Chapter 28 34/35

34 "I'm a good friend of one of his daughters, and to be honest, I saw Monty in person yesterday." LeBlanc immediately became interested, but he was still on guard, "You said you saw Monty? If it's true, tell me, where did you meet him?" OK, Randall thought, first test. "He's at Villa Bella Vista. I visited him and talked to his doctor. His doctor is Dr. Venturi." Randall hesitated, then took the second test, "I know something about your work with Professor Monty, about the discovery in Ostia Antica." Those deep-set eyes stared at Randall.The slack mouth is wet and wriggling. "Did he tell you about me?"

"No, not directly. In fact, his memory has been lost." "Go on." "But I have been given permission to read his private papers, and I have seen all records of his meeting with you here more than a year ago." "So you know about that." "Yes, Monsieur LeBlanc, there was something else besides that. As a propagandist and a writer, my curiosity was aroused, you can understand me! I tried to track you down. I wanted to be with you on friendly terms." A few words in the air, and I hope what I hear will prove to be of benefit to both of us."

LeBlanc pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, stroked the stubble on his long chin, and tried to make an attitude towards the stranger in front of him.He looked impressed, but still wary, "How can I be sure you're not lying?" "About what?" "You said you saw Monty. How can I trust you with all the liars out there?" This is a hindrance. "I don't know what evidence I can give you," Randall said, "I met Monty, we ended up talking, and most of it was pointless, and I just came here. Well, what can I repeat? " "I must be sure you saw him," insisted the old man stubbornly.

"I actually met him. He even gave me back..." Suddenly remembering what he stuffed in his jacket pocket when he left the room, Randall took the paper out of his pocket and spread it out on the table.He didn't know what the thing meant to LeBlanc, but it was the only thing he had about Monty.He put the paper in front of LeBlanc. "Monty drew this picture for me, a fish being speared, and he gave it to me as a parting present. I don't know if it means anything to you, but he drew this picture for me and gave it to me. It's It's the only thing I can show you, Monsieur LeBlanc."

The painting appears to have had an effect on LeBlanc.He held it up a few inches from both eyes, one eye to be exact, because now Randall saw that the old man's eye was covered by a cataract.After a careful inspection, LeBlanc returned the painting to Randall. "Yes, I'm familiar with it." "So, are you satisfied?" "I'm satisfied. This painting is one I used to paint." "You?" Randall said in surprise. "The fish represents Christianity. The spear represents the end of Christianity. It is my hope." He pondered briefly. "It's no surprise that Monty remembers it. It's the last he remembers, I betrayed Christian and Monty. He wants me dead. If he drew it, that's what he wants."

"How could anyone else understand this?" Randall said earnestly. "Probably his daughter." "She hasn't seen Professor Monty sane since he last saw you." The Frenchman frowned, "Maybe! If you've met Monty, has he mentioned me—or my masterpiece?" Randall felt helpless. "No, he didn't mention you. As for your masterpieces, do you mean the Gospel of James and the Petronas Parchment?" LeBlanc didn't answer. Randall said hastily, "He thought he was James, the brother of Jesus. He began to recite, in English, word for word, what was written in Aramaic on Papyrus No. First page of the record." Randall paused, trying to recall the contents of his Bellavista tape, which he had replayed several times this afternoon. "He even filled in what was missing on the third paper."

LeBlanc showed greater interest. "what is that?" "When Monty found the Gospel of James, there were many small holes in the papyrus. On the third fragment, there was an incomplete sentence, the sentence read: 'The other sons of Joseph, besides the Lord Jesus and himself , and...' Then there's a gap, and then it starts again,' and I'm still talking about the first-born, most beloved son.' Well, Monty recited that, and he filled in the gaps. " LeBlanc leaned forward. "What did he fill in?" "Let me see if I can remember." He tried to play the tape again in his head. "Monty said to me, 'Joseph's other sons, besides the Lord Jesus and himself, are Judas, Simon, Jose, Jude...'"

"Jude, and everyone outside of Judy and Idumi, I still tell about the first born, most beloved son." LeBlanc finished for Randall, leaning back in his chair back. Randall stared at the old man. "You—you know?" "I should know," LeBlanc said, his lips curling upward so his mouth became even more parched. "I wrote it. Monty isn't James, I am." It's a scary moment for Randall, one he's been looking for and not the one he wants to find. "Then it's all a lie—James Petronas, all the discoveries are lies." "A terrific lie," LeBlanc added.He looked around and added, "A fake, the biggest fake in history." He looked at Randall. "I believe you met Professor Monty, but I don't understand what you want from me, Robert LeBlanc. What do you want from me?"

"Evidence," Randall said, "evidence, you say, of a forgery." "What do you want this evidence for?" "Publish. Expose those who instill false hope in a credulous public." Robert LeBlanc sat in a chair, meditating, and there was a long silence.At last, he said, "there are others," he said softly, almost to himself, "others also want evidence of falsification and promise solemnly that the corruption of the Church and the The darkness is out in the open. These people are finally found to be the same as the church. They try to hide the light of the truth, cover the truth so that they can keep their myth forever. If I don't trust them, I will not give them more money One word. How can I trust you?"

"Because I was hired to spread the word about the 'Second Resurrection.' I was almost duped until I started to see doubts," Randall said frankly. "My doubts led me to seek the truth — probably I have found it in you." "You've found something in me," said LeBlanc, "but I can't be sure I've found what I want in you. I can't give you my whole life unless I'm sure— —with peace of mind—it can be revealed to the world.” Randall thought to himself that he had met an opponent this time, and this was another difficult person he had encountered since Frumi.The little old man's suspicions were as serious as his own, if not more so.

The old man was unacceptably overly discouraged.The old man had hardly trusted anyone since Plummer had screwed things up.After all, who in this world can convince this old man that he will not let his life's hard work go to waste and will be rewarded after he handed over the forged evidence?Suddenly, Randall thought of a person—McLoughlin.If McLoughlin was in Rome, his reputation might have won LeBlanc's trust in him. Suddenly, a thought broke into Randall's mind. McLaughlin and his "Vientiane Exposure Agency" are local - Rome, a few minutes away. With an impulse of confidence, Randall said, "Mr. LeBlanc, I think I can convince you to trust me. Come with me upstairs to my room and I will give you proof. Then, I believe I can make you tell your evidence." They came to Randall's room on the 5th floor of Jinhua Hotel. Robert LeBlanc, stepping stiffly up and down, stepped over the soft sofa and sat down in a chair next to the glass-topped table that Randall had used as a desk.As soon as he sat down, his eyes were on Randall's every move. Randall put the suitcase back on the bed and opened it, flipped through it, and took out a standard-sized manila file folder with a label printed on the cover: "Vientiane Exposure Agency." "Can you read colloquial English?" Randall asked. "I can read as well as I can read ancient Aramaic," LeBlanc said. "Okay," Randall said, "Have you heard that there is an organization in the United States called 'Vientiane Exposure Society'?" "No, no." "I thought the same thing," Randall said. "It wasn't widely publicized. I was actually asked to give them their first big pitch." He walked around the bed to LeBlanc, folder in hand. . "This is my correspondence with a man named McLoughlin, director of Vientiane Exposure - before his meeting with me in New York. There is also a record of our meeting. In the next few days Over the course of the month, you'll hear more about him, he's an injustice man, an evil crusader, and he likes to expose evil, just like your country Zorro." "Zoro," LeBlanc muttered, almost caressing the name. "We've always had people like that. They were few in number, they were often oppressed by the powerful, but they were not silenced or exterminated because they were representatives of the public conscience, like Thomas Paine, Henry Thoreau ...nearer upden sinclair, lincoln stephens, ralph nader, who are constantly exposing the deceitful tricks of the business tycoons. Well, mcloughlin and his colleagues can say are their successors." Robert LeBlanc was listening intently. "What are they doing? This McLoughlin and his institute?" "They have thoroughly investigated an unwritten conspiracy by certain American industries and corporations to keep certain inventions and products out of the public eye. They have dug up evidence that some of the big industries—the oil industry, the automobile industry, the textile industry, The steel industry, to name a few - has paid bribes, even violence, to make inventions like a cheap pill that replaces gasoline, a tire that never wears out, a cloth that lasts a lifetime, a A kind of match that can be used forever and so on can not meet the public. This is just the beginning. In the second decade, they are ready to investigate the conspiracy of the telephone company, banks, insurance companies, military enterprises, the Department of Defense and other government departments to deceive the public .He is convinced that public rights are being violated by unruly free enterprise. He strikes out to expose any conspiracy against the public, and, you will know, it is he who has called in to help him with his propaganda." Randall put the folder on the table in front of LeBlanc. "This is it, Mr. LeBlanc. It's the only thing I have that says I'm in this business of exposing lies and seeking truth. Read it, and decide whether you trust me." LeBlanc picked up the folder and opened it. Randall walked out. "I'm leaving you for 15 minutes. I want to have a drink at the bar down below, would you like it?" "I may be gone when you come back," LeBlanc said. "Try it." "Bring me a whiskey sour, stronger." Randall left the room and asked. After going out, he left quickly, praying in his heart, and walked downstairs to the bar. Nearly 20 minutes later, Randall returned to his door on the fifth floor.He entered the room, followed by a waiter carrying a tray with a glass of Scotch and a glass of sour, and he wondered if he would have to drink both. But Robert LeBlanc was still there, still sitting at the table with the clip closed beside him. Randall asked the waiter to step back and handed the old man the glass of whiskey sour. LeBlanc took the glass. One last chance. I will tell you how I wrote the false gospel and the Petronas parchment. The story is not long, but it is unprecedented. This story must be published - you, Mr. Randall, Be its messenger—to tell the truth about this newborn Christ lie to the world." LeBlanc sat hunched in a chair by the table, and in an emotionless monotonous tone told Randall, who was sitting across from him, about his youth before he was deported to the French Guiana colony. LeBlanc spent half an hour describing his poor and humble boyhood in Montparnasse.At that time he discovered that he had a talent for fraud and forgery, and he lived a life of small mistakes in Paris.He was repeatedly arrested, sentenced, and released.Finally, when he vainly tried to obtain permanent comfortable freedom by forging government documents, he was discovered by the French security agencies. Even though Randle had heard about the situation 24 hours earlier, he listened carefully because LeBlanc was his source of information.Randall didn't want his hard-won confidant to know that he had just heard these things from Froome less than 24 hours ago, waiting for LeBlanc to tell him something he didn't know, and he desperately wanted to know . "So, that's it," said Robert LeBlanc, "after the falsification of government documents was discovered, and since I had been imprisoned four times in France for petty crimes, I was rightly classified as an incorrigible, unscrupulous person." Humanoid. I was sentenced to exile in Guiana, French South America, where I would spend the rest of my life. This colony has a well-known name - Devil's Island - and there are 5 prisons, 3 of which were built separately. Of the three small islands, only the smallest, less than 1,200 yards, is called Devil's Island. This island was built for political prisoners—like Captain Alfred Drivers, who was accused of Sold military secrets to Germany and was imprisoned here. There were no more than 8 people in this prison at most. The other two islands on the sea 9 miles from the coast of Guyana are called Roa Island and St. Joseph Island. Two prisons on the mainland Not too far from Cairn City, called St. Laurent Prison and St. Jean Prison. I was sent to St. Joseph's Island." LeBlanc's throat was dry and starting to get a little hoarse.He brought the whiskey sour to his lips, took a swig, and cleared his throat. "What year were you sent to French Guiana?" Randall asked. "That was before you," LeBlanc muttered. "1912." "Is it as bad as it says in the book?" "It's much worse than what's written in the books," LeBlanc said. "When the escaped criminals write about it, they're just writing about the cruelty and the pain they're going through, but in a way they want to My own experience romanticized into a legend. It is completely different in fact. There was never a glamorous hell. Only the photos describe it accurately: the dry guillotine. Where you are tortured every day and die, endless torture And pain is more unbearable than death. Prometheus is a greater martyr than St. Peter. In 1912, I was shipped to Guyana on the steamer La Martine, and I was not in a cabin but in an iron cage. There are 90 people on the starboard side of the ship. The original idea of ​​​​building this exile is to allow criminals to awaken themselves and save themselves. You may not believe that the official name of these islands is Salute-Salvation Islands. But, like all religions Like the organization, the original intention of the word has been corrupted. When I was sent here, its philosophy was - once a man is a criminal, he is always a criminal, and no one can save him. He is a beast, and he should be Tortured to death and never allowed to interfere with society again." "But now you're here." "I'm here because I have a strong will," LeBlanc said fiercely. "I have a reason to live, and you'll see soon enough, but not at the beginning. In the beginning, when I thought When I was a human being and tried to act like a human being, they reminded me that I was just an animal and less than an animal. What should I say about the first two years? To say life was cruel—to say it wasn’t a human life That's only a ten-thousandth of it. Listen, during the day the mosquitoes swarm and bite your abscesses all over your body. The little bugs bite under your nails, and the red ants gnaw at your feet. At night those blood-sucking Bats suck your blood. Dysentery, fever, blood poisoning, scurvy. You see." LeBlanc opened his mouth and pulled his lips back.Red and blue gums above cheap dentures. "How did I lose my teeth? They fell out of a form of scurvy. I spit out two or three teeth every time I spit. I'm classed as scum, which means I'm never allowed to leave the colony. On St. Joseph Island, I was out in the sun from morning to night, hammering stones. If I resisted, I would be thrown into an isolation cell. Do you know what loneliness means on this island? There are 3 divisions in the prison— - regular prisons, isolation cells and madhouses - the most inhumane of these is the isolation cell. I would be thrown into a concrete pit, 8 feet wide and 12 feet deep. No roof, just iron bars to seal it .In the pit there is a wooden bench, a potty, a blanket that is changed every two years. The rotten air and the stench of human excrement are enough to suffocate you. In the isolation room, you have to stay in the cement pit for 23 and a half days a day Hours, only half an hour you go out in the yard for a change of air. Regular prisons are not much better, sometimes worse. Especially at night, when you want to sleep in a wooden cot, those perverts And homosexuals will attack you. Day after day, always the same meal. Breakfast is nothing but coffee, a little hot water with a few mashed leaves for soup. One piece of hard bread, three ounces Rotten beef for lunch, dry peas or moldy rice for dinner, I was skinny. Punched, kicked, whipped, tortured by guards who were evil Cossacks, beastly Legionnaires or formerly My only dream was to kill myself and be put in a cemetery among the bamboo forests for relief. Then, one day, a miracle happened—I think so, anyway—and I had a reason to live. " "The missionary," Randall remembered.Froome mentions a French Catholic missionary who befriended LeBlanc in his most desperate moments. "About ten miles from St. Laurent, near the Maloney River, there is a clearing, surrounded by swamps and thick woods," LeBlanc went on, "where there are government offices, the huts where the caretakers live, a A sawmill, a hospital, a prison, and a special hut, the area called Camp Saint-Jean or Prison Saint-Jean. Since there were more than 300 prisoners here with their abscesses, wounds, and sunken eyes, It was a particularly horrible place. They slept on the floor full of pus and feces, and they ate soup of mashed vegetables and raw bananas. They worked from 6 am to 6 pm, felling trees in the jungle, and then Driven like a horse to pull these logs into the village. When I was sent there, a miracle happened and I had a reason to live." "Have you found a reason to live? In a hellish cave like that?" "Yes. Because of that particular cottage in the open. I mentioned it, didn't I?" "You mentioned it." "That's the church in the camp—the only church I know of in the colony, if you don't count the unused chapel on Suiya Island. It's all stone except for the pitched roof, which is wooden. There are five windows on the four walls. It is not for prisoners. Of course, it is only a place for foreign guards, French officials and their wives to worship God. There is also a pious missionary in it-- ’ LeBlanc paused, trying to recall the pastor, and finally said, ‘His name is Paquin, Perry Paquin, a pious little French missionary from Lyon, who presides He also visits prisoners in the hospital, and from time to time he visits prisoners in other prisons on the mainland and on the islands." "You say he's the only missionary in the whole colony?" "The only one," LeBlanc said.He thought for a moment, then corrected himself, "No, when I first arrived, there were other missionaries. But then, they were all expelled, except for one - only Perry Paquin remained .” "Why were those missionaries driven away?" "Because, as that Father Paquin told me, it turns out that those missionaries who decided to save the deprived sheep of Guyana - as they called us - organized an international Red Cross prayer meeting to raise awareness of the prisoners Suffering attention. This angered the French government, the missionaries were recalled, and all religious activities were banned, only one missionary was allowed to stay." "Is that Father Paquin?" "Yes," said LeBlanc, "he has his own church in Saint-Jean. Since the church has no decorative utensils except the altar and some wooden benches, and the religious atmosphere is not enough, this priest Paquin decided to change the appearance of the church. He Wanted to embed stained glass windows and paint icons on the walls to make this sanctuary more secular. He needed an artist. When he heard that I was the only former artist among the 8,000 prisoners in Guyana, he asked me to be removed from the Ile St. Joseph goes to St. Jean on the mainland. Of course I am not an artist and never have been, and have painted nothing but French beauties on fake bank checks. But since they know I have faked An illustrated medieval Bible, and the officials recommended me to him. So I escaped from the captivity of those beastly island wardens to become the missionary's assistant. What a change! I can't believe it .” "How did it change?" Randall asked. "Father Paquin was a very down-to-earth man, apart from his religious fanaticism. He treated me well and appreciated my creative genius. I was no longer cruelly treated, they treated me kindly, I had medical care, cleanliness better food, and since I am not really an artist, I propose to decorate the new windows with mottoes from the New Testament in Greek or Latin, and to paint the walls of churches with ancient Christian symbols like fish, lamb, and many others. The missionary was so excited that he showed me the entire library of books: Bibles in various editions, Latin, Greek, and Aramaic The Bible, and the illustrated history of the church, and other such books. I studied every wooden book with all my attention, grasped every word, and read it not just once or twice, but endlessly. It took me a year Decorating that church. The church won the praise of the visitors, and the missionaries proud of the church and me. In the process, under the guidance of the priest, I learned that my only hope comes from the Father and the Son , the Holy Spirit. For the first time, I had a vague desire to live a decent life and to live and return to my homeland to be a new man. But I was sentenced to live here for life--that's it. Because of this missionary, I had the desire to live. Later , the opportunity has come." "what chance?" "Absolved and set free." LeBlanc took another gulp of the Scotch Sour and resumed his conversation. "It was 1915. All of Europe was in the midst of the First World War. The Governor of the Colony of Guyana called up the people who were usually doing better here - I was one of the better performers because Paquin The priest was the custodian and we were told that we would be considered for clemency after the war if we volunteered to form a special battalion of the country's army - the Infantry - against the damn German soldiers on the Western Front in Europe. This ambiguity The words were not attractive, and almost no one signed up. Father Paquin asked me why I did not seize this opportunity, and I told him our thoughts. The priest consulted the authorities for us, and came back and gave us a positive answer. If I am willing to fight for France, and if I can convince my fellow prisoners to do the same, the International Ministry of France will guarantee us pardon and freedom as soon as the war is over. In fact, Father Paquin assured me: 'As a Lord's Slave, in the name of Jesus the Savior, I personally guarantee you a pardon from the government. You listen to me, if you fight voluntarily, you will be pardoned. You will regain your citizenship and liberty. I tell you this, not only On behalf of the French government, and in the name of the Church.' That is enough for me—what is the government! Only priests and the Church are really reliable and trustworthy. Thus, together with other prisoners, we promise to serve voluntarily." Randall found it unbelievable, "Mr. LeBlanc, are you saying that a special force in the Devil's Island colony was sent back to France to fight the Germans?" "It's absolutely true." "But why have I never read of it in the historical records?" "You can see right away why it wasn't widely circulated," LeBlanc said.He massaged his thigh, where his stump joined the prosthetic leg.LeBlanc thought for a while, and then began to talk again, "With the encouragement of the priest, we stamped our fingerprints and became infantrymen. We set off from Guyana by boat, and we landed at the port of Marseilles in July 1915, and set foot on the beautiful land again. French territory. We formed a special regiment, and our watchman at Devil's Island became our officers. We had all the rights of soldiers except one—in the army we were never allowed leave, and we were called devils. The Island Expeditionary Force will only accept the leadership of General Henry Pitain." "Did you take part in a real battle?" "Did it right away, we were sent to Ferrandez to fight trench warfare. We stayed at the front, never let up, for three years - rivers of blood, bodies everywhere, unimaginable. We started Some people doubted it, but because the conditions here are better than Devil’s Island, and the priest promised to give us freedom, we continued to stay there and fight like tigers. Since we are under surveillance, we can’t have some slack, and we are 2 out of 1,800 prisoners.” 3 people died in battle.Those of us who survived continued to fight.Six months before the end of the battle, my left leg was shattered by a German shell.My leg was amputated, but my life was saved.We paid a great price for our freedom.But when I woke up in the field hospital, I thought it was totally worth it.When I recovered and learned to walk on a wooden leg, an armistice was signed, peace came, and the war ended.I am still young and a new life is about to begin.Along with 600 other members of the Devil's Island Expeditionary Force, we celebrated our return to Paris, where we awaited the announcement of the amnesty order.But instead we were taken to Sand, which was beyond my expectation.I went to confront our priest, Perry Paquin, who was appointed as our chaplain, and asked him how this could be explained.He praised me and thanked me for my sacrifice, even hugged me like a son, and he assured me that, in the name of the savior, Sander is only a temporary home until we are released, and we will be free.I was so relieved that I shed tears of joy.A week passed, and suddenly, early one morning, our former Cossack guards and countless new guards flooded Sander prison and surrounded us. plugged port.There we were forced into prison uniforms and told that, for the sake of the country's security, we must all return to Guyana where the prisoners lived - to serve our sentences.Riots are impossible, our foreheads are facing countless guns.I glanced at Father Paquin, and I shouted at him, but he showed no mercy, he just shrugged.I still remember the last thing I did before we left on the prison ship: I shook my fist at the priest and yelled, 'What church!Rubbish!Big shit!Fuck you fucking Christ!I will have my revenge! '" Randall shook his head in disbelief, "Is that really the case?" "It's true, really, that's it, it's in the archives of the Ministry of Defense or Justice in Paris now. And that's it, we're back on Devil's Island in Guyana to suffer mosquitos, bugs, ants, heat, swamps, coolies , Kicking - it's not as good as an animal. But this time, I have a better reason to live, and that is revenge - for a human being of flesh and blood, there is no stronger motive than revenge. Revenge A government with a heart like a snake and a snake? Revenge on those priests who are full of lies and double-faced? No! I want to take revenge on all the deceptions that religion has given me-this is the enemy of life-worse than drugs and opium-with False empty talk of a merciful Christ. My faith is shattered, as is my body. I conceived when our prison ship unloaded us at Saint-Laurent-de-Maloney My coup - a fatal blow to all who peddle anything of Christ - my deception will equalize the deception of the Church against me. I conceived preliminary forms: forgery of the Gospel of James and the Petronas parchment. 1918 In 1953, when I returned to Guyana again, to 1953, when the poor conditions of the colony brought France notoriety, and the French liquidation committee abandoned the colony for 35 years, I carefully prepared my revenge." Shocked, fascinated but still sympathetic, Randall continued to listen to the old man. As a model prisoner, LeBlanc was given more freedom of movement than others.He carves coconut shells in Caiyin, makes novelty gadgets, steals and forges medieval manuscripts (he sends them to Paris in partnership with a caretaker, who gets a 30% commission and sells the manuscripts to sellers through the caretaker). All I do is save more money to buy books on religion.He was also able to buy materials to forge bank checks, which were sold at a discount for money to acquire expensive religious books to work on his subject. During the 35 years of his second confinement, LeBlanc had established himself as an expert on Jesus, the New Testament, ancient Aramaic, Greek, parchments, and papyri. In 1949, thanks to his good behavior, he was finally freed.No need to stay in prison, but must stay in the colony.Replace the rough dark blue coat with the prison uniform that has been ripped into strips.LeBlanc moved into a small shack on the Maloney River not far from St. Laurent.He continued to make ends meet by making souvenirs and forging manuscripts.By 1953, the colony was abandoned and the life-long prisoners were sent back to French government prisons to continue serving their sentences. Leblanc, along with other free men, returned to Marseille by boat and was finally given freedom on French soil. After relocating to Paris, LeBlanc continued his underground forgery career.He forged bank checks, passports to earn money to earn a living and to buy valuable material for his own long-planned scam.When he was ready, he left France for good.After smuggling a box full of counterfeit material into Italy, he followed him into the country, took a lodging in Rome, and began his formidable scheme of forgery. "But how did you dream of fooling the scholars and theologians?" Randall wondered. "I know you're fluent in Greek, but I've heard that Aramaic is a bible, and besides, it's a lost language—" "Not completely gone," LeBlanc said with a smile, "it's still present among the Muslims, the Christians on the Kurdish frontier. As for the Aramaic language itself, as you say, it's like a bible—it's It is now, and it was before, but I have spent 40 years studying it, which is much longer than I have spent learning French. I have studied academic journals in philology, etymology, linguistics, and the published The dissertations were written by such leading experts as Dean Petroporos of the Monastery of Simopietra and Dr. Jeffries of Oxford. I also studied books like Franz Basanda's " Biblical Aramaic Grammar. Above all, I acquired my knowledge and researched it by copying it. I copied it by hand a thousand times until I could write comfortably in the language. It is indeed a difficult language, but after much effort, I have mastered it." ------------------ 35 Randall was fascinated, and he wanted to continue listening, "Mr. LeBlanc, those weird papyrus and parchment puzzle me the most. How did you make them so that even advanced scientific testing instruments were fooled?" Woolen cloth?" “那些羊皮纸和纸草纸并不是我制造的。”莱布朗坦率地说，“想伪造古代纸张的想法是愚蠢的。其实，在伪造过程中，羊皮纸和纸草纸是最容易搞到的东西。当然，也是最为危险的一件事。你知道，兰德尔先生，我不仅曾是伪造者，也做过小偷。我的朋友中有很多罪犯和小偷。我们合作过两年左右的时间，古时候的书写材料就到手了。通过观察研究，我知道每个分类的史初的经卷和抄本的地点，没有分类的我也知道。我清楚这些经卷、抄本被贮藏和陈列的每个公共、私人博物馆；我对那些腰缠万贯的私人收藏家也了如指掌。许多经卷开头或结尾处没有写字，还有许多抄本有空白的纸页，我就偷这些。” 这位老人的大胆令兰德尔目瞪口呆，“你能举个具体例子吗？我是说，是哪些经卷集子——在哪里？” 莱布朗摇摇头，“这个我可不能详谈。但我可以略微告知你一些。其中有几个地方是我们多次造访的。比如意大利的梵蒂冈图书馆、突里诺图书馆、法国的国家图书馆、奥地利国家图书馆、瑞士临近日内瓦的波德默图书馆、英国的不计其数的博物馆——其中有都柏林的比蒂图书馆、曼彻斯特的里兰图书馆、伦敦的大英博物馆等等。” “在那些地方你真的偷窃过吗？” 莱布朗得意洋洋地说，“是的，我们干过，但不是在所有的地方——因为不一定都有恰巧是公元一世纪的羊皮纸和纸草纸。在大英博物馆我们战果斐然。那个博物馆真是个撩人心肺的地方，那里竟有一卷空白的萨马利亚羊皮纸、一卷相当部分都是空白的萨马利亚羊皮纸。最妙的是，博物馆里相当多的羊皮纸经卷——有许多无字的部分——既未分类又未整理，因为缺乏人员和设备保卫，所以这些东西相当好搞。嗯，当然，在我的故乡法国也有一个宝库——就是国家图书馆。那里贮存了成千上万这类手稿，末翻译过，未发表过，也未分类过。唉，真是个浪费。所以我就利用一些空白的公元一世纪的纸草纸，把它们派上用场。你懂吗，先生？” “我当然懂，”兰德尔说，“但是你怎么把它们弄下来的呢？” “就走上去扯掉，”莱布朗坦率地说。“走上前，胆要大心要细。一些博物馆我在破晓前能很容易地进去，有的我就藏起来直到关门后干。在任何一种情况下，我先破坏掉警报系统，然后就干强盗干的勾当。对于那些戒备森严的博物馆，我就起用一些已接了我的贿赂的同伙。其中两次我同那些警卫们谈判以达到目的。那些穷困的博物馆和图书馆警卫们薪水很少，这你知道，有的警卫是有家有室的，有好几张嘴等着吃饭。贿赂很容易就打开了许多馆藏的大门。兰德尔先生，我只需要一小部分羊皮纸和纸草纸，得来易如反掌。提醒你一句，我需要的东西很特别。纸草纸和羊皮纸的制作年代最早不能早于公元前5年，最晚不能超过公元90年。至于墨水，我用一种在公元30年到公元6Z年问使用的配方——在灯烟和蔬菜汁中加入一种特殊的古老的成分，公元一世纪的书写员们用的就是这个。” “但是关于詹姆斯福音书和彼得罗纳斯的报告的内容，”兰德尔说，“你怎敢杜撰呢？这些东西怎能骗过世界上最博学的神学家和学者呢？” 莱布朗咧开嘴笑了笑，“首先，因为人们非常需要这两样东西。在宗教人士中有这样一种人，他们贪财或恋权，他们需要这样的发现。那些宗教领袖们早就想要这些了，他们渴望得到，耶稣复活的气候和时机已经成熟。并且，我以詹姆斯和彼得罗纳斯的名义记下的每一个想法或行为都不是完全捏造的。我用的所有构思都不只一次地被教会神父、历史家或其他早期的福音书作者在公元一世纪后暗示过。有些东西被提到过，但被修改或疏忽了，甚至被全盘忽视，现代的理论家也在重新研究它。” “他们都提到过什么？”兰德尔想知道，“你能给我举几个例子吗？就以彼得罗纳斯羊皮纸为例——真有彼得罗纳斯这个人吗？” “当然有，在彼得遗失的福音书中就提到过这个人。” “彼得遗失的福音书？我从未听说过。” “它确实存在，”莱布朗说，“那是在1886年，一名法国的考古学家在埃及上尼罗河的阿米姆镇一个古墓中发现的。彼得福音书是在将近公元130年时写在羊皮纸上的经文，它完全不同于所谓《圣经》正本中的福音书，它认为是希律王——应对处死耶稣负责。它还说，带领一百名士兵处死耶稣的人是彼得罗纳斯。” “我完全昏了，”兰德尔说，“你说彼得福音书是真的？” “是真的，并且殉道者贾斯廷——他在公元130年改信了基督教——告诉我们在他那个年代，人们读的都是彼得福音书，人们对它的崇拜程度比我们对今天的四部福音书还要更甚。然而到了公元四世纪，《新约》编成了，人们不再承认彼得福音书，它被放置一边，归入了伪经一类——就是说，人们对它的作者产生了怀疑。” “好了，”兰德尔说，“在你的彼得罗纳斯羊皮纸中，你把那耶稣写成了一个颠覆性的人物，一个把自己看得比当时的凯撒大帝还要强的反叛者。你认为这些能被接受吗？” “世界上许多《圣经》学者都相信是真的，”莱布朗回答，“我只需从一部有异议、反偶像崇拜的著作中引述一句话——书名叫《格雷夫斯和波多罗校订的福音书》，其中写道：毫无疑问，耶稣被涂油并加冕为以色列的王，但是福音书编者由于政治原因却尽可能地掩盖这个事实。” “还有你的赝品詹姆斯福音书，”兰德尔说，“在里面你让耶稣说出了许多言论，它们是真的还是你的编造呢？” 莱布朗的眼睛在他铁架的眼镜后面闪着光亮。“让我这样说吧——是编造，但是以事实为依据。圣言——主的言论——一点问题也没有。我查阅了伪经——那本细节值得商榷的古书。让我们举个例子，以前出土过一本古书，叫《詹姆斯伪经》，是一本关于耶稣言论的集子。我借用了其中的言论，只是加以修改和完善。在这本伪经中，当耶稣离开詹姆斯时，书上说，'他说过这些离开了。但是我们双膝跪倒，还有我和彼得，我们感谢并向上天献出我们的心'。在我修改过的本子上，我这样说，'他让我们留下，祝福我们，带着门徒走着，消失在迷雾和黑暗之中。于是我们双膝跪倒，感谢并向上天捧出我们的心。'” 莱布朗自鸣得意地瞟了一眼兰德尔，等着兰德尔的反应。 兰德尔再次对莱布朗话语的大胆摇了摇头，颇不情愿地表示同意，“我知道你的意思，”他说，“事实服务下的虚构。我还想知道更多，詹姆斯怎么那样描述耶稣呢？这个耶稣——小眼睛，长鼻子，脸上遍布疮痂和瑕疵——难道没有人表示反对吗？” “没有。同样的，曾经有古书暗示基督的面容不是很吸引人。亚历山大的克莱门，当他斥责追随者们一心一意追求美貌时，曾提醒他们说耶稣'面容丑陋'。克里特的安德鲁也写道，耶稣有'非常丑陋的面容'，但是又补充说'和神的荣耀相比，肉体不值一文'。这些对我来说正足够做参考的。” “很久以来传统上都认为当耶稣受刑后并没有死。伊哥那提斯——他在公元69年成了叙利亚安提奥克的主教——说耶稣复活后依然'活生生的'。据伊来诺斯说，尊敬的海拉波离斯主教帕皮亚斯认识信徒约翰，帕皮亚斯称耶稣50岁后还活着。罗丝克鲁西人一贯声称他们有古代文本可以证明耶稣在耶路撒冷的十字架上没有丧命。一个罗丝克鲁西人的历史学家写道，'当他们进入坟墓，他们发现耶稣安详地歇息着，并马上恢复了力量和活力。'这些资料还说一个艾辛教派把耶稣藏了起来。艾辛这个名字不仅有圣人之意，还有'治疗者'的含义。一个艾辛教派可能把耶稣的伤治好了，这些是曾在十七世纪晚期写过耶稣生平的卡尔?夫?巴特和卡尔?赫?凡突里尼的话。他们宣称艾辛人使耶稣出现了奇迹，复活了，耶稣被抬下十字架时只是昏迷并没有死亡，后来被艾辛教派的人或医生治好了。” “那么耶稣到罗马的事呢？”兰德尔问。 “罗马，”莱布朗说，他心爱地重复着这个词。“这是我最伟大的冒险，但为什么不这样做呢？公元二世纪的犹太法利赛人深信救世主将出现在罗马。彼得在往罗马的路上见到过耶稣。罗马历史学家修托斯曾指责耶稣给罗马制造了混乱。实际上，有这样一种传统的说法：詹姆斯告诉他的追随者，如果他们中的任何人想知道他们的救世主在哪里，他就可以让他们相信，你们的救世主就在伟大的罗马城里。”莱布朗停了一下，想了想他刚刚说过的话。看来他很满意。“我认为他到过罗马很符合逻辑。” “很明显是的。” “你看，兰德尔先生，我伪造的作品中几乎每个概念都有古书上的线索可作依据。现在的神学家们和新约学者们也在思索着这些线索以重新编写基督生平，填补空白，他们靠的是推理、逻辑、解释时代背景，并形成理论。现代的《圣经》专家知道目前的四部福音书并不是实际的历史。这四部福音书很大部分是编在一块儿的神话，尽管这些神话可能有事实依据，这就使很多现代学者开始考虑在第一世纪时到底发生了什么事情。他们想着如果发现一部散失的福音书来证明一下是最好不过了——这本福音书，他们全都相信是目前四部福音书的原本，因此，我明白，无论詹姆斯和彼得罗纳斯的故事遇到什么相反意见，依然会有上千的神学家和学者高兴地说，'我们这么长时间以来寻求的事实证据终于出现了。'” “你的设想是正确的，莱布朗先生。最受人尊敬的专家研究了你的詹姆斯福音书和彼得罗纳斯报告，并认可了它们。” “我对我的作品从不怀疑，”莱布朗先生得意地说。“不过，找个地方藏起未可不是件简单的事。” “你感到最困难的是哪一方面？” “就是地点。因为一旦我被迫将奥斯蒂亚?安蒂卡成为埋藏的地点来支持蒙蒂教授的观点并且以后将他牵扯进去，我就面临着很困难的问题。” "what is the problem?" “如果将我的作品秘密藏在以色列或约旦的某个洞窟里或藏在埃及一个修道院的贮藏室里，问题就很简单，就更符合逻辑了。许多重要的文稿都是在那些干燥地区发现的。但是奥斯蒂亚?安蒂卡一这个地方太差了。它几乎是最不适合纸草纸存放19到20个世纪的地方了。奥斯蒂亚?安蒂卡在古代海拔很低，台伯河水每年都季节性地淹没这个地区，没有什么纸草纸或羊皮纸能够经受住这不断发生的洪水。另外还有一种情况，历史上凯撒大帝曾毁灭了奥斯蒂亚并垫高了一米来抵御洪水。我解决了这个问题——我决定用石盒来盛放这些手稿。” “没有人立即表示怀疑吗？” “一点儿不会。”莱布朗说，“我知道许多富裕的商人曾居住在靠近奥斯蒂亚?安蒂卡海岸的别墅里。如果有一位这样的商人是犹太人，秘密变成了基督徒，就会想保留一些从巴勒斯坦带来的有价值的手稿，他就会像我这样做的。” “那么，为保存它们，你用了一个古代的石盒吗？” “这不容易，”莱布朗说，“意大利所有的石头都不防水，我试验过许多。火山石到处都是，但太松软了。陶土，在死海式气候中还凑合，但在像奥斯蒂亚这样一个海港地区就显得太脆弱了。即使是大理石遇水也要坍塌。我最后选中了一种有25种不同类别的灰色花岗岩，经久不坏，里面没有夹杂遇地下水即膨胀分解的长石。我搞到一块这样的花岗岩，把它做成方的基座的样子，看起来好像古代支持过一个雕像。我把它锯成两半，用（上般+下金）子把它凿空。然后我用没过油的丝绸把我的詹姆斯福音书纸草纸本和彼得罗纳斯羊皮书包起来，塞进一个陶罐，封好，放在空的花岗岩石块里。做完后，我把石头的两半合在一起，用沥青封上，使它显得年代更久，然后把它埋在一个未发掘过的地带，那里地下被认为埋有公元二世纪或一世纪的废墟。我等了几年，等着那块石头与土壤结合在一起并长满了滋生物，就跑到蒙蒂教授那里，给他一块残片，我假装说这块残片是在那个地带里埋着的另外一个陶罐里发现的。一旦我把蒙蒂争取到我这一边，我就再也不担心了。” 真残忍，这一切，兰德尔下结论道。为了实施这一切，这老头变成了疯狂或堕落的天才。他不仅仅只是想想，而是全部这样干了。“那么现在你准备好了把你的詹姆斯福音书和彼得罗纳斯羊皮书的阴谋公之于众吗？” “我做好了准备。” “我记得你刚才说你以前已经一、二次试图将它公布于众。” “不错。去年我与蒙蒂会了面，因为我需要钱。我威胁说如果他不另给我钱的话，我就把这个赝品的情况捅出去。当然，我承认，如果他给了我，我只能保密一小段时间——那就是说，暂时保持缄默。无论有没有钱，我试图报复的目的是绝不会改变的。后来，我与另一个有兴趣的人开始了谈判，但是当我发现这个人代表教会时我就中止了联系，因为他们只是想得到我的证据以保全他们的信仰和假《圣经》。” “如果我能将这整个故事报道出去，你就将它卖给我？” “是的，如果你出个适当的价钱的话。”莱布朗柔和地说。 “你说的适当的钱是多少？”兰德尔问道，但又马上说，“我是说，我不是银行，只是一个人，没多少钱，你认为行吗？” 莱布朗将杯中所剩之物一饮而尽。“我不会说不讲理的话，如果用美元支付的话……” “我是付美元。” “两万美元。” “太多了。” “你可以分两次付清，”莱布朗说，“别忘了，我所给予你的可以使你名利双收。” “我给你钱，你拿什么回报我？” “证据，”莱布朗说，“关于我的伪造物的证据，不容置疑且无可指责。” "What evidence?" “首先是一个纸草纸残片，恰好可以补上你在多尼说过的第三号纸草纸书上的缺句或小洞。这个残片上有蒙蒂给你背诵过的句子所缺漏的部分，在这片残纸上詹姆斯列举了耶稣的兄弟和他自己。这片纸形状不规则，大约有9.2厘米长，6.5厘米宽——3.3英寸长，2.5英寸宽——能够一点不差地补上那个所谓的原本上的漏洞。” “但是，如果专家们说文稿是可靠的，像在阿姆斯特丹的纸草书一样真实，一样可靠，怎么办？” 莱布朗轻蔑地一笑，“我早就想到过这种可能性，兰德尔先生。我保留的这个残片在最重要的部分上，我用看不见的墨水在看得见的字句上画了半条用矛刺着的鱼。另半条鱼在你们那本第三号纸草书上。第三号纸草纸上还有我最近的签名和我手写的一句说这是赝品的话。不，你不可能用任何小孩把戏将这些显现出来——不是用牛奶写的，那样的话你一加热就能看到了。完全不是那样。这种墨水的配方是由洛卡斯塔使用过的——” “谁？”兰德尔打断他的话问。 “你没听说过洛卡斯塔？她是尼禄王的宫方毒剂师。就在我所安排的耶稣被逐出罗马那个时候，洛卡斯塔教她的学徒毒药配方并拿奴隶试验。在尼禄母亲的命令下，洛卡斯塔在一份蘑菇汤中给克劳蒂斯王下了毒。据说她害死了上万人。自然，她经常不得不与尼禄秘密联系，所以她精通设计看不见的墨水。我恰巧搞到了她的一种复杂、鲜为人知的配方。” “你能告诉我配方是什么吗？” 莱布朗很短暂地犹豫了一下，就露出他那褪色的假牙说，“我会告诉你十分之九她的配方，当我们谈成生意后我再提供另外的十分之一。实际上，洛卡斯塔是从拜占庭一名叫费隆的希腊科学家的著作里学到的。在大约公元前146年时，他发明了一种用从树瘤中提出来的特殊酸制成的隐形墨水。要想使写出来的字出现，你就必须用一种我们现在叫硫酸铜的东西与另外一种成分混合。配方是秘传的，你会知道配方，并能够将我用隐形墨水写在纸草纸书上的名字、话语和图画显现出来，并以此来否定整个詹姆斯福音书的真实性。由于我说出了这个配方并描述了缺乏的残片，我要求得到两万美元付款的前一半。如果你满意的话，我会告诉你余下的情况，并给你最具概括性的说明我的东西是赝品的证据来换取你的另外一半付款。” “那会是什么呢？” 莱布朗继续微笑着，“更多的填补的残片，能填充詹姆斯福音书的每个缺漏，兰德尔先生，你玩过拼图游戏吗？你知道一个边缘曲折复杂的拼片如何恰巧能完成整个图画，是吗？阿姆斯特丹的出版商仍有24部分纸草纸书，一些部分中有一两个地方缺漏了，总共缺漏了9个地方。我拿着那缺漏的9个地方的碎片。每个不规则的纸片都是从那些纸草纸书中取下的，都能完美地与原本对在一起，就像拼图游戏中的拼板一样。当这些缺漏部分被天衣无缝地与纸草纸书中的缺洞对在一块儿时，赝品和阴谋的证据就明明白白、无可辩驳了。我现在有后8片，第一片我给蒙蒂看了，但后8片被我放在一个18英寸长的铁盒里安全地藏起来了。这些情况能说明所谓的《国际新约》是伪造的吗？” “是的，”兰德尔说，他能感觉到他的胳膊上起了许多鸡皮疙瘩。“是的，那些足够了。你什么时候给我这个证据？” “你想在什么时候？” “今晚，”兰德尔说，“就现在。” “不，不可能。” “明天，好吗？” 莱布朗看起来仍然还不能肯定。“明天也不行。我把这两件东西都秘藏起来了。去年我最后一次见了蒙蒂之后就把它们藏了起来。最近，我差点把它们从藏物之地拿出来给了一个有兴趣的买主——可是，我对这个买主起了疑心，就决定暂缓取出等到第二次与他见面后弄清他的目的再做主张。我的疑心得到了证实。所以你看，我的伪装证据还留在一年多前我隐藏的地方。因此嘛——我不能多作解释了——把它们取出来要花点时问。它们在罗马城外——不远，但我仍然不能在明天拿出来。” 想着到底哪里是藏物之地而使得证据如此不顺，兰德尔决定不能强求原因，就说：“很好，如果明天不行的话，后天也可以。说定了，后天，星期一。” “好吧，”莱布朗说，“后天我会把你想要的东西带来的。” “告诉我你住在哪里，我会去的。” “不，”莱布朗说着，慢慢地站起身子，“不，那样做不妥当。下午5点钟我们在多尼咖啡厅见面，那时我们再作交换。如果你想的话，我们还可以到你的房间来看那些你满意的东西。” 兰德尔站起来，“好，多尼咖啡厅，星期一下午5点。” 当他们走向门口时，莱布朗瞟了一眼兰德尔，说，“你不会失望的，我保证。再见，我的朋友。真是个愉快的日子。” 看着莱布朗瘸着腿走向电梯，兰德尔思索着为什么在这个愉快的日子里他自己一点也不愉快。 目送着那个伪造者进了电梯，他明白了。 信仰受到了伤害。 在兰德尔开始他的48小时焦灼守候之前，还有一件任务，一个令人不自在的，不得不做的任务等着他。 要打一个长途电话。 这次他打到了阿姆斯特丹的克拉斯纳波斯基大酒店，打给了乔治?L?惠勒。 惠勒依然在“第二次复活”的办公室里，他的秘书很快把电话接给了他。 “史蒂夫吗？”惠勒嚷道。 “你好，乔治。我想我最好……” “现在你在哪里，我的天？”惠勒打断他，“我的秘书说着什么来着？” “我在罗马，让我解释一下。” “罗马？”惠勒暴怒了。“真该死。在罗马？你为什么不呆在你的办公桌边呢？难道我没给你说明白每个人都必须每天安安稳稳地工作24小时，准备下星期五在皇宫开记者招待会吗？当洛丽告诉我你明天溜出镇子搞什么调查时，我头都要炸了。昨晚上我一直等你回来。” “我原打算昨天晚上回去，”兰德尔插话说，“可又出现了一件重要的事。” “只有一件事是重要的，那就是拨转你的驴头回到这儿工作，再也不要离开。我们必须准备好发布……” “乔治，听我说，”兰德尔请求道，“可能不会有宣布会了。我肯定你不想听这话，但你最终会感激我的。我认为你最好推迟发布会的日子。” 电话那一端出现了震惊的沉默，最后惠勒的声音降低下来，“天哪，你在说些什么？” 兰德尔整理了一下自己的思绪。可能会很粗略，但他必须讲清每个使人不快的细节，这别无选择。“乔治，”他说，“你不能出版那本《圣经》。我已弄清了它的真相。蒙蒂教授的发现——彼得罗纳斯羊皮纸和詹姆斯福音书——都是彻头彻尾的伪造品。” 又一次死一般的寂静。接着是惠勒单调的声音，低得难以听清。“你疯了。” “你在浪费你我的时问。”惠勒的语调变得生气了。“如果它能使你感觉好受点，你就继续吧！” 兰德尔想说它并没有使自己感到好受，他很不高兴这件事。但此时不是用自己的感情来烦扰自己的时候。这是个关键时刻，他必须让这位出版商面对现实。 “好吧，”兰德尔低沉地说，“这是我在罗马碰到的情况。” 他毫不留情地，不动声色地讲了一切，讲他到罗马迫使安杰拉带他见她的父亲；讲他见到蒙蒂教授的地方；讲他怎么找到的蒙蒂，这位考古学家的精神状况，后来他与文图里博士的谈话。接着，兰德尔说到弗鲁米，这位荷兰教士如何在精美大旅馆社等着他，以及在弗鲁米的房间里的会面。他一字一句地重复着他从那儿听到的话，当然没有讲细节，没有提伪造者的名字或伪造者对普卢默的坦白，没有提他们在巴黎的约见，在约见时普卢默与伪造者对伪造的证据进行了讨价还价。 乔治?L?惠勒打断了他的话。“这么说是弗鲁米——普卢默和弗鲁米——带来了一个伪造者，”惠勒暴怒了，“你陷进去了吗？我本该知道他们在最后一刻什么都干得出来。所以他们雇了一个伪造者来毁坏我们的声誉，是不是？” “不，乔治，”兰德尔反驳说，“一点不是，你可不可以听我讲完？” 兰德尔快速讲着，他解释普卢默如何想在罗马见那位伪造者，如何试图搞到证据；伪造者怎样被不期遇见的弗鲁米吓得掉头就走。 “就在那时，我决定弄清是不是有一个真正的伪造者，”兰德尔说，“如果真有，就留下他听他讲第一手资料。” 兰德尔讲述了他是怎样猛然想到去查阅蒙蒂的文件，看到了一年零两个月以前蒙蒂与伪造者会面的地点和日期。他讲了自己怎么到的多尼咖啡厅，又是怎样与伪造者面对面的交锋。 “乔治，那个伪造者半小时前刚刚走出我的房子，”兰德尔说，“他是个法国移民，他在巴黎叫罗伯特?莱布朗，在罗马却取名叫恩里科?托蒂。他是个老人，80多岁，耗尽了将近一生来伪造詹姆斯福音书和彼得罗纳斯羊皮书。你想知道他是怎样做的吗？” 兰德尔不容出版商有回答的时间，就讲开了莱布朗的故事，但不是全部，现在没时问。兰德尔本能地决定不讲莱布朗是如何长大，如何度过青年时代以及在巴黎的罪行、被捕，被押送到法属圭亚那，对教会希望的破灭，甚至不讲莱布朗如何下决心报复宗教对世人的罪过。这些材料只会让惠勒拒绝接受下面的最重要的事实，兰德尔想。 兰德尔手中有最重要的事实。 在揭露了莱布朗——出于一种对教会的敌意——如何使自己成为一名新约专家后，兰德尔说到莱布朗怎样花费数十年来准备他的伪造品，以及莱布朗如何使蒙蒂教授发现它们。 “我很抱歉不得不将这些告诉你，乔治，”兰德尔同情地说，他知道这位出版商肯定到了一种想要自杀时的精神状态。“但我知道，你，戴克哈德博士及其他人都会想知道真相的。” 他等着惠勒的反应，可他听不到声音。这条从阿姆斯特丹到罗马的电话线哑了。 “乔治。”兰德尔说，“你打算怎么办？” 惠勒的嗓音沙哑地从电话中传来，他的话语密集而猛烈，“我知道我该怎么办，我应该炒你的鱿鱼，就现在，因为你是个蠢材。但我不会，时间太短了，我们需要你。至于余下的关于那头蠢牛的事，只要你认识到弗鲁米是如何引你上钩的，你就会很快恍然大悟。” 一个与沉没的船只一块儿下沉的船长，兰德尔想，这是他心存希望的最后一件事。“乔治，你听着吗？你现在正处于一个危险的境地，你应明白整个事情纯属捏造——是由一个畸形的天才干的。我明白放弃整个计划对你是个损失，但是想想吧，当这些东西出版以后，你会失去信誉和金钱的！” “根本没有什么可暴露的，你这只蠢猪！弗鲁米导演这个事件来拉你下水，用你来吓唬我们，在我们中间制造争端。” “你去问弗鲁米他会证实的。” “我不会去相信那个家伙的欺骗行为的，你已被一个把戏拉下水了，把你的脑筋拨正，趁我们关系依然和睦时回来工作吧！” 兰德尔控制住自己的语气。“你真的不相信？” “我一点也不信，一个精神错乱的骗子，收了弗鲁米的钱，你想让我相信他吗？” “好吧，你可以不信，”兰德尔强忍着使自己的语调自然理智，“你可以不信，但我会让你看到证据的。” "What evidence?" “莱布朗后天要把他的关于伪造的证据给我，星期一下午在多尼咖啡厅。” 惠勒好像没有听见这句话。突然，他说话了，他压住了火气，改变了