A Better Man (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #15) - Louise Penny Page 0,77
Jean-Guy Beauvoir.
Gamache had stared through the bars at the caged young man. Beauvoir had stared back.
And they’d recognized each other.
From lifetimes past. From battlegrounds past.
And on the spot, to the shock of everyone except himself, Chief Inspector Gamache had hired the unruly young agent. The human refuse no one else wanted. Eventually promoting him, several years later, to be his second-in-command.
And now this would be their final investigation together. As Jean-Guy broke free and Armand let him go.
It would be, if Gamache had anything to do with it, a successful end to a courageous career.
But they weren’t over the finish line yet.
“Why would you even consider letting Monsieur Godin go,” Beauvoir was saying, “before we’ve arrested Tracey? Knowing what he planned to do. Unless—”
Beauvoir stopped. Almost in time.
“Unless?” asked Gamache, and once again Jean-Guy could feel the natural authority of the man. It radiated off him. “You think I want him to kill Tracey?”
“Non, not at all. It’s just … honestly?” said Jean-Guy. “Between us? I can understand how Homer feels. And obviously you do, too. If we couldn’t convict Tracey, if he walked free, I’d be tempted to just step aside and let him do it.”
Gamache tilted his head and stared at his son-in-law.
“Don’t tell me that you wouldn’t be tempted, too,” said Beauvoir.
“Tempted, maybe. I honestly don’t know what I’d do, Jean-Guy. But I hope to God not that.”
“So why do you want to let him go now?”
“I’m worried that holding him any longer will just make things worse. My reason for detaining him was to give him a cooling-off period. When he couldn’t do anything. But if it lasts much longer, instead of cooling off, his anger will heat up. I agree that letting him go is a risk, but so’s keeping him in jail. Besides, it’s just not right.”
Beauvoir thought about it, glancing out the window at the Bella Bella and the sandbags lining the river. At the ones still standing and the ones fallen down.
So close to tragedy. It didn’t really take much to tip the balance.
“Okay. Let him out. I’ll have an agent watch his place and follow him if he leaves.”
“You won’t have to. I was thinking of inviting Monsieur Godin to stay with us. His things are already here. And that way I can keep an eye on him. Besides, he shouldn’t be alone.”
“Is that smart?”
“Probably not,” said Gamache with a small laugh. “Is it my first choice? Non. But sometimes you have to do something stupid.”
Beauvoir laughed. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. Sounds more like something I’d say.”
“Guess you’re rubbing off on me, patron.” Gamache smiled, then it faded. “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
“He’s not your brother,” said Jean-Guy.
“Non, that’s true. And Vivienne isn’t Annie. But still, I’d want someone to do this for me, to watch over me, if…”
If Annie … If Reine-Marie …
Beauvoir considered and realized that if anything happened to Annie.… To Honoré …
Someone would have to do the same for him.
“Agreed, patron,” he said. “By the way, who were you talking to in the store room?”
“The Montreal Alouettes.”
“What did they say about Cameron? Why’d they let him go?”
“Too many penalties. He was a good player but was costing them yards.”
“Roughing?” asked Beauvoir.
“I’d have thought so, but no. Holding. Apparently it was almost a reflex of his, to grab hold of something and not let go. They couldn’t break him of it.”
As Gamache walked to the car, listening to Agent Cloutier go on excitedly about continuing to string Pauline Vachon along in hopes of getting more evidence, he felt some anxiety stir.
It wasn’t the slight sour feeling he’d had in his gut earlier. The worry they wouldn’t be able to nail Tracey. That was still there, but less and less as the evidence mounted and now threatened to bury Carl Tracey.
This was something else. A prickling at the back of his neck.
Something was wrong. A mistake had been made, or was about to be made.
* * *
“Who’s that?” asked Myrna, nodding toward a car just arriving in Three Pines as Armand’s vehicle left.
“Probably more Sûreté,” said Clara. “They’ve set up in the old railway station again.”
“Huh,” said Myrna. “It’s stopped in front of your house.”
“Really?” said Clara, turning to take a closer look.
“Is that who you’ve been looking for?” Reine-Marie asked Ruth. The elderly poet had been glancing out the bistro window all morning.
Now Ruth was smiling as she, too, watched the car arrive.