Vittoria nodded. “Literally, yes.”
The docent smiled faintly. “Now there’s a term I have not heard in a while. If I’m not mistaken, a buco diаvolo refers to an undercroft.”
“An undercroft?” Langdon asked. “As in a crypt?”
“Yes, but a specific kind of crypt. I believe a demon’s hole is an ancient term for a massive burial cavity located in a chapel . . . underneath another tomb.”
“An ossuary annex?” Langdon demanded, immediately recognizing what the man was describing.
The docent looked impressed. “Yes! That is the term I was looking for!”
Langdon considered it. Ossuary annexes were a cheap ecclesiastic fix to an awkward dilemma. When churches honored their most distinguished members with ornate tombs inside the sanctuary, surviving family members often demanded the family be buried together . . . thus ensuring they too would have a coveted burial spot inside the church. However, if the church did not have space or funds to create tombs for an entire family, they sometimes dug an ossuary annex-a hole in the floor near the tomb where they buried the less worthy family members. The hole was then covered with the Renaissance equivalent of a manhole cover. Although convenient, the ossuary annex went out of style quickly because of the stench that often wafted up into the cathedral. Demon’s hole, Langdon thought. He had never heard the term. It seemed eerily fitting.
Langdon’s heart was now pounding fiercely. From Santi’s earthly tomb with demon’s hole. There seemed to be only one question left to ask. “Did Raphael design any tombs that had one of these demon’s holes?”
The docent scratched his head. “Actually. I’m sorry . . . I can only think of one.”
Only one? Langdon could not have dreamed of a better response.
“Where!” Vittoria almost shouted.
The docent eyed them strangely. “It’s called the Chigi Chapel. Tomb of Agostino Chigi and his brother, wealthy patrons of the arts and sciences.”
“Sciences?” Langdon said, exchanging looks with Vittoria.
“Where?” Vittoria asked again.
The docent ignored the question, seeming enthusiastic again to be of service. “As for whether or not the tomb is earthly, I don’t know, but certainly it is . . . shall we say differйnte.”
“Different?” Langdon said. “How?”
“Incoherent with the architecture. Raphael was only the architect. Some other sculptor did the interior adornments. I can’t remember who.”
Langdon was now all ears. The anonymous Illuminati master, perhaps?
“Whoever did the interior monuments lacked taste,” the docent said. “Dio mio! Atrocitаs! Who would want to be buried beneath pirбmides?”
Langdon could scarcely believe his ears. “Pyramids? The chapel contains pyramids?”
“I know,” the docent scoffed. “Terrible, isn’t it?”
Vittoria grabbed the docent’s arm. “Signore, where is this Chigi Chapel?”
“About a mile north. In the church of Santa Maria del Popolo.”
Vittoria exhaled. “Thank you. Let’s-”
“Hey,” the docent said, “I just thought of something. What a fool I am.”
Vittoria stopped short. “Please don’t tell me you made a mistake.”
He shook his head. “No, but it should have dawned on me earlier. The Chigi Chapel was not always known as the Chigi. It used to be called Capella della Terra.”
“Chapel of the Land?” Langdon asked.
“No,” Vittoria said, heading for the door. “Chapel of the Earth.”
Vittoria Vetra whipped out her cell phone as she dashed into Piazza della Rotunda. “Commander Olivetti,” she said. “This is the wrong place!”
Olivetti sounded bewildered. “Wrong?