A Great Reckoning (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #12) - Louise Penny Page 0,29
like nothing has happened. And then I remember what happened.”
She sighed. And looked toward the closed door.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” she asked, dragging his handkerchief under her eyes to wipe away the mascara.
“Michel Brébeuf is no threat,” he said, holding her hands and holding her eyes. “Not anymore. He’s a paper tiger.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I’m sure, ma belle. Are you all right? Do you want me to ask him to leave?”
“Non. I’m fine. I have some reading to do. You go back and entertain that shithead.”
Armand looked at her with surprise.
She laughed. “I seem to be channeling Ruth. It’s quite liberating.”
“That’s one word for it. After I get rid of Michel, I’ll call an exorcist.”
He kissed her and left.
At one in the morning, Reine-Marie turned out the light. Armand was still in the living room with Michel. She could hear their laughter.
* * *
“Oh my God, I’d forgotten that,” said Michel.
The bottle of Scotch had been moved from the drinks table to the coffee table, and the level had moved down considerably.
“How could you forget Professor Meunier?” said Armand, reaching for the bottle and pouring them each another shot. Then sitting back, he put his slippered feet on the footstool. “He was like something out of a cartoon. Barking orders and throwing chalk at us. I still have the scar.”
He pointed to the back of his head.
“You should’ve ducked.”
“You shouldn’t have provoked him. He was aiming at you, as I remember.”
Michel Brébeuf laughed. “Okay, I remember.” His laughter slowed to a chuckle and then silence. “Those were the longest three years of my life. The academy. I think they also might have been the happiest. We were so young. Is it possible?”
“Nineteen years old when we entered,” said Armand. “I looked at the kids here tonight and wondered if we were ever so young. And I wondered how we got so old. It seems no time has passed. Came as a surprise that we’re now the professors.”
“Not just professors,” said Michel, raising his glass in salute. “But the Commander.”
He drank, then looking into the glass, he spoke softly.
“Why…”
“Oui?” said Armand, when the silence had stretched on.
“Leduc.”
“Why did I keep him on?”
Brébeuf nodded.
“You two seemed to hit it off tonight. You tell me.”
“He invited me back to his rooms after the party,” said Brébeuf. “He’s a cretin.”
“He’s worse than that,” said Gamache.
“Yes,” said Brébeuf, studying his companion. “What’re you going to do about him?”
“Ahhh, Michel,” said Armand, crossing his legs and raising his glass to his eyes, so that he saw Brébeuf through the amber liquid. “You worry about your side of the street. There’s enough mess there to keep you busy. I’ll worry about mine.”
Brébeuf nodded, eating a stale sandwich as he thought. Finally he asked, “Have you told the cadets about Matthew 10:36 yet?”
“Non. I’ll leave that up to you.”
Michel tried to get up but couldn’t. But Armand did. He stood up and stood over Brébeuf, large, solid, almost threatening. No longer under the influence, it seemed.
Putting out his hand, and with more strength than Brébeuf expected at that late hour in the day and in their lives, Armand hauled him to his feet.
“Time you left. You have a job to do.”
“But what job? Why am I here?” Michel asked, his eyes bleary, looking into Armand’s familiar gaze. “I need to know.”
“You do know.”
As he left, one bony hand like a claw brushing the wall of the corridor to keep him on course, Michel Brébeuf knew there were probably many reasons Armand had gone all the way to the Gaspé and brought him back. From Percé Rock. From the dead.
Armand had always been the more clever of the two. And there was cleverness at work here.
From that first visit, Brébeuf had known he wasn’t going to be simply a professor. He would be the object lesson, the walking warning to the cadets. What happened when you gave in to temptation. When you listened to the fallen angels of your nature.
But after tonight he suspected there was even more to it than that. More expected. Armand had other things in mind.
If Armand wasn’t going to tell him why he’d invited him to the academy, Michel wasn’t going to tell him why he’d accepted.
And there was another question, just as tantalizing.
Why was Armand really there?
* * *
Gamache closed the door and, leaning against it, he brought a hand to his head. It was all he could do not to slump to the floor. It had been a long