Ruth had told Myrna, and Myrna, after some thought, remembered telling Lea. Though while he’d gently probed, neither seemed to know about the hidden door.
“She didn’t confess to the murder of Katie Evans,” said Gamache. “Her confession was about the cobrador. But the bat continued to worry us. I knew the bat’s only purpose, after it had killed Madame Evans, was to point to the murderer. But not, of course, the real one.”
“She wanted Anton Boucher charged with the crime,” said Zalmanowitz.
“Oui. That was Jacqueline’s plan all along. Again, very simple. Kill Katie, and blame Anton. The two people she considered responsible for her brother’s death. The Conscience had more than one debt to collect. Edouard jumped while out of his mind on drugs sold to him by Anton. But what sent him over the edge was his breakup with Katie. It broke his heart, and the drugs warped his mind. He was, by all reports, a gentle, sensitive young man, who loved her too much. And Katie Evans was a gentle, kind woman whose crime was that she didn’t love him back.”
“Edouard told his sister all about it,” said Beauvoir. “He was enraged. He painted Katie as cruel. Heartless. He didn’t mean it, of course. He was insane with jealousy and the drugs had warped his thinking. I know what they can do. How we turn on the very people who care for us the most.”
“And then, having placed all his bile in his sister’s head, he killed himself,” said Gamache. “Leaving Jacqueline to despise Katie. Neither Katie, nor the drug dealer, had paid any price for her brother’s death. But she would see to that.”
Barry Zalmanowitz was nodding. While others might not understand that obsession, he did. If his daughter had died, he’d have spent his lifetime getting justice. In whatever form it took.
* * *
The Premier Ministre du Québec listened to the explanation, without comment, without question.
Then he turned to Judge Corriveau.
“How much of this did you know?”
It was time. To link arms with Gamache and cross the bridge at Selma.
To stand in front of a home, and refuse entry to those who would deport, who would hang, who would beat and bully.
The knock was at the door. The Jews in the attic.
It was her time, her turn. To stand up.
“I knew none of it,” she heard herself say.
Beside her in the Premier’s office, Gamache was silent.
“This was all you, Armand?” the Premier asked.
“Oui.”
“But your people went along with it. The Chief Crown went along with it.”
“Yes.”
It was no use saying they were just following his orders, Gamache knew. That was no defense, nor should it be.
“You know what I have to do,” said the Premier. “Breaking the law, perjuring yourself, crossing the border and killing a citizen of another country, no matter how deserving that person was, cannot go unanswered.”
“I understand.”
“You will, of course, be—”
“I knew,” said Maureen Corriveau. She turned to Gamache. “Forgive me, I should’ve admitted it earlier.”
“I understand,” he said. And then, under his breath he said to her, “You’re not alone.”
“Explain,” said the Premier Ministre.
“I didn’t know the specifics, but I did know that something was happening in the trial. Something unusual. I suspected perjury and called Messieurs Gamache and Zalmanowitz into my chambers. They all but admitted it. Enough to have had them arrested, certainly detained. But I let them go.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew there must have been a very good reason. And if they were willing to risk so much, it seemed the least I could do.”
The Premier nodded. “Thank you for that. You do know that if you had detained Monsieur Gamache, all this would have fallen apart. His plan would’ve collapsed, and the cartel would have really and truly won.”
“I do.”
He turned to Gamache.
“You will be relieved of duty. You’ll be on suspension, pending an investigation. As will your second-in-command, Inspector Jean-Guy Beauvoir. I believe you were the leaders?”
“Yes.”
“Superintendent Madeleine Toussaint will be promoted to acting head of the Sûreté. She’s certainly been implicated and will be investigated, but someone has to take over, and thanks to you, Armand, all the senior officers are now compromised. That means I either appoint Toussaint, or the janitor.”
“And Chief Inspector Lacoste?” asked Gamache.
“She will stay as head of homicide.”
Armand nodded his thanks. It was a battle he was prepared to fight, but relieved he didn’t have to.
“And me?” asked Judge Corriveau.
“You’re the judge,” he said. “What do you think I should do?”
Maureen Corriveau appeared to think for a moment, then said, “Nothing.”