Renowned curator Jacques Saunière staggered through the vaulted archway of the museum’s Grand Gallery. He lunged for the nearest painting he could see, a Carravagio. Grabbing the gilded frame, the seventy-six-year-old man heaved the masterpiece toward himself until it tore from the wall and Saunière collapsed backward in a heap beneath the canvas.
As he had anticipated, a thundering iron gate fell nearby, barricading the entrance to the suite. The parquet floor shook. Far off, an alarm began to ring.
The curator lay a moment, gasping for breath, taking stock. I am still alive. He crawled out from under the canvas and…
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He'd just better not have damaged that bloody Caravaggio...
As "jump into the middle of the action" openings go, it's not entirely bad, though I would lose the "renowned", and "heaved.. toward himself" read kind of wrong (heaving doesn't seem to be the sort of action you can do towards yourself; I'd have gone with "hauling").
I've read plenty worse, and if this had been posted for critique, then I'd have probably said "I'd read on".
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I did read on. In fact, I don't remember having a problem with the first three or five chapters at all. Brown does know how to write a decent beginning and set the story up, despite all his faults. I would have cut the "taking stock" bit, but that's a nit. As far as starting action goes, not too bad.
It's the rest of the story that he couldn't deliver.
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