Kohler was waiting for him in a small alcove at the end of the hallway.
Olivetti turned left into an alcove and strode to one of the largest doors Langdon had ever seen.
Carlo had, for some unknown reason, only moments before the blast, left his mother’s side and ventured into a protected alcove to ponder a tapestry depicting the story of St. Francis.
It seemed the Chigi Chapel was located in the third of four recessed alcoves to their right.
Recessed in the alcoves, as far as the lights let them see, the hulking shadows of sarcophagi loomed.
As the wall curved left, the tunnel opened into a semicircular alcove.
As they passed the first shrouded alcove, Langdon felt taut, like a contestant on some surreal game show.
The Chigi was an out of the way alcove, a literal hole-in-thewall, a tribute to a great patron of science, decorated with earthly symbology.
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.
Although eight was not a particularly overwhelming number, all eight openings were covered with huge sheets of clear polyurethane due to the construction, the translucent curtains apparently intended to keep dust off the tombs inside the alcoves.