Zachary eyed the pyramid suspiciously. "What's the treasure?"
Bellamy could tell that this coarse question was not what Peter had hoped for. Nonetheless, his demeanor remained steady.
"Zachary, it's hard to explain without a lot of background. But this treasure . . . in essence . . . is something we call the Ancient Mysteries."
Zachary laughed, apparently thinking his father was joking.
Bellamy could see the melancholy growing now in Peter's eyes.
"This is very difficult for me to describe, Zach. Traditionally, by the time a Solomon is eighteen years of age, he is about to embark on his years of higher education in--"
"I told you!" Zachary fired back. "I'm not interested in college!"
"I don't mean college," his father said, his voice still calm and quiet. "I'm talking about the brotherhood of Freemasonry. I'm talking about an education in the enduring mysteries of human science. If you had plans to join me within their ranks, you would be on the verge of receiving the education necessary to understand the importance of your decision tonight."
Zachary rolled his eyes. "Spare me the Masonic lecture again. I know I'm the first Solomon who doesn't want to join. But so what? Don't you get it? I have no interest in playing dress-up with a bunch of old men!"
His father was silent for a long time, and Bellamy noticed the fine age lines that had started to appear around Peter's still-youthful eyes.
"Yes, I get it," Peter finally said. "Times are different now. I understand that Masonry probably appears strange to you, or maybe even boring. But I want you to know, that doorway will always be open for you should you change your mind."
"Don't hold your breath," Zach grumbled. "That's enough!" Peter snapped, standing up. "I realize life has been a struggle for you, Zachary, but I am not your only guidepost. There are good men waiting for you, men who will welcome you within the Masonic fold and show you your true potential."
Zachary chuckled and glanced over at Bellamy. "Is that why you're here, Mr. Bellamy? So you Masons can gang up on me?"
Bellamy said nothing, instead directing a respectful gaze back at Peter Solomon--a reminder to Zachary of who held the power in this room.
Zachary turned back to his father.
"Zach," Peter said, "we're getting nowhere . . . so let me just tell you this. Whether or not you comprehend the responsibility being offered to you tonight, it is my family obligation to present it." He motioned to the pyramid. "It is a rare privilege to guard this pyramid. I urge you to consider this opportunity for a few days before making your decision."
"Opportunity?" Zachary said. "Babysitting a rock?"
"There are great mysteries in this world, Zach," Peter said with a sigh. "Secrets that transcend your wildest imagination. This pyramid protects those secrets. And even more important, there will come a time, probably within your lifetime, when this pyramid will at last be deciphered and its secrets unearthed. It will be a moment of great human transformation . . . and you have a chance to play a role in that moment. I want you to consider it very carefully. Wealth is commonplace, but wisdom is rare." He motioned to the portfolio and then to the pyramid. "I beg you to remember that wealth without wisdom can often end in disaster."
Zachary looked like he thought his father was insane. "Whatever you say, Dad, but there's no way I'm giving up my inheritance for this." He gestured to the pyramid.
Peter folded his hands before him. "If you choose to accept the responsibility, I will hold your money and the pyramid for you until you have successfully completed your education within the Masons. This will take years, but you will emerge with the maturity to receive both your money and this pyramid. Wealth and wisdom. A potent combination."
Zachary shot up. "Jesus, Dad! You don't give up, do you? Can't you see that I don't give a damn about the Masons or stone pyramids and ancient mysteries?" He reached down and scooped up the black portfolio, waving it in front of his father's face. "This is my birthright! The same birthright of the Solomons who came before me! I can't believe you'd try to trick me out of my inheritance with lame stories about ancient treasure maps!" He tucked the portfolio under his arm and marched past Bellamy to the study's patio door.
"Zachary, wait!" His father rushed after him as Zachary stalked out into the night. "Whatever you do, you can never speak of the pyramid you have seen!" Peter Solomon's voice cracked. "Not to anyone! Ever!" But Zachary ignored him, disappearing into the night.
Peter Solomon's gray eyes were filled with pain as he returned to his desk and sat heavily in his leather chair. After a long silence, he looked up at Bellamy and forced a sad smile. "That went well."
Bellamy sighed, sharing in Solomon's pain. "Peter, I don't mean to sound insensitive . . . but . . . do you trust him?"
Solomon stared blankly into space.
"I mean . . ." Bellamy pressed, "not to say anything about the pyramid?"
Solomon's face was blank. "I really don't know what to say, Warren. I'm not sure I even know him anymore."
Bellamy rose and walked slowly back and forth before the large desk. "Peter, you have followed your family duty, but now, considering what just happened, I think we need to take precautions. I should return the capstone to you so you can find a new home for it. Someone else should watch over it."
"Why?" Solomon asked.
"If Zachary tells anyone about the pyramid . . . and mentions my being present tonight . . ."
"He knows nothing of the capstone, and he's too immature to know the pyramid has any significance. We don't need a new home for it. I'll keep the pyramid in my vault. And you will keep the capstone wherever you keep it. As we always have."
It was six years later, on Christmas Day, with the family still healing from Zachary's death, that the enormous man claiming to have killed him in prison broke into the Solomon estate. The intruder had come for the pyramid, but he had taken with him only Isabel Solomon's life.
Days later, Peter summoned Bellamy to his office. He locked the door and took the pyramid out of his vault, setting it on the desk between them. "I should have listened to you."
Bellamy knew Peter was racked with guilt over this. "It wouldn't have mattered."
Solomon drew a tired breath. "Did you bring the capstone?"
Bellamy pulled a small cube-shaped package from his pocket. The faded brown paper was tied with twine and bore a wax seal of Solomon's ring. Bellamy laid the package on the desk, knowing the two halves of the Masonic Pyramid were closer together tonight than they should be. "Find someone else to watch this. Don't tell me who it is."
Solomon nodded. "And I know where you can hide the pyramid," Bellamy said. He told Solomon about the Capitol Building subbasement. "There's no place in Washington more secure."
Bellamy recalled Solomon liking the idea right away because it felt symbolically apt to hide the pyramid in the symbolic heart of our nation. Typical Solomon, Bellamy had thought. The idealist even in a crisis.
Now, ten years later, as Bellamy was being shoved blindly through the Library of Congress, he knew the crisis tonight was far from over. He also now knew whom Solomon had chosen to guard the capstone . . . and he prayed to God that Robert Langdon was up to the job.
CHAPTER 62
I'm under Second Street.
Langdon's eyes remained tightly shut as the conveyor rumbled through the darkness toward the Adams Building. He did his best not to picture the tons of earth overhead and the narrow tube through which he was now traveling. He could hear Katherine breathing several yards ahead of him, but so far, she had not uttered a word.