Bit of a disadvantage here. I did read a novel once. I think it had a blue cover.
There was something about the unnatural way the whiting had been left on the beach that lit a touch paper in Langdon’s mind. Almost as if it had been arranged like that, its silver corpse pointing due east. It reminded him vaguely of a painting he had seen one time in Verona, or was it Florence?
He glanced up to the promenade and was startled to see the sallow-skinned old man still holding his cryptic sandwich board. It seemed to Langdon that the old man was staring at him, curiously waiting for a reaction…
The end of the world is nigh. What on earth could it mean? Was it a code? Or an anagram? Hold ends for the whiting? The fish again. Langdon knew the fish was the key. But would it turn in the lock without being squished into a mass of scales and bone?
Instinctively, he started running…
(Dan Brown)
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