A Great Reckoning (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #12) - Louise Penny Page 0,56
looking at him.
Out the window Gamache could see a car arriving, one he recognized.
Lowering his voice, he spoke quickly, urgently.
“I need you to continue what you started,” he said. “To find out everything you can about this map. Who drew it. Why. Was there a purpose? Is there some message in it that made it valuable to Professor Leduc?”
Gamache saw the car draw up to his home.
He rose to his feet, but continued to talk. They also got up.
“Why, after someone put such time and effort into drawing it, was it then walled up?” he asked. “I have to leave, but I’ll be back in a few minutes. Stay here.”
He got up, put his copy of the map in his pocket, and left.
Amelia watched him go, walking just a little more quickly than a relaxed man might. Once outside, he took long strides around the village green to his home, where a man and a woman had stopped partway up the path to his front door and were waiting for him.
Amelia didn’t recognize the man. Middle-aged, he had graying hair and slightly soft features. But the most striking thing about him was that he was in uniform. Not a Sûreté uniform. This one was a deep blue with gold buttons and insignia. He wore a cap with a broad gold ribbon and he stood straight, almost at attention, as Gamache approached. He didn’t quite salute, but close.
And once again, Amelia wondered about the Commander. He must have been someone, once. To command such respect from such a senior officer. And she wondered what terrible thing Gamache had done to have been shuffled off, away from active duty. To the flat plains of Saint-Alphonse and the Sûreté Academy.
As the two men shook hands, Amelia looked more closely at the woman. She was in plain clothes. Blond. Petite without giving the impression of being small. Just the opposite. There was something formidable about her, even at a distance.
And then Amelia’s eyes opened wide.
“Holy shit.”
“What?” asked Huifen, following her glance out the window. “Who’re they?”
“How should I know?” said Amelia.
It was the homicide chief. The one she’d seen interviewed on the news, while the drunken slop of a landlady spread her legs on the La-Z-Boy in front of the TV.
Amelia got up and headed for the door.
“Stop.”
Everyone in the bistro stopped. Including Amelia.
“Come here.”
Amelia turned around. When they realized the target was the young woman, everyone else averted their eyes from the inevitable carnage.
Ruth was pointing a crooked finger at the empty armchair at her table. After a moment’s hesitation, Amelia went over and sat.
“Didn’t he tell you to stay put?” Ruth demanded.
“You’re Ruth Zardo, the poet,” she said.
“I hear there was a murder at the academy. Did you do it?”
The demented old poet glared at her with eyes so sharp Amelia felt she must be bleeding.
Beside Ruth, the demon duck was nodding and muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Amelia’s mind went blank. Except for one line from that book the Commander had offered her. She’d refused his gift, but had subsequently found a copy in the used bookstore next door and bought it. Marcus Aurelius.
The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.
Amelia knew she was deep in the ranks of the insane.
CHAPTER 16
As he walked across the village green, Gamache could see the insignia on the visitor’s uniform. The crown above three Bath Stars, from the ancient order of chivalry.
This man was a high-ranking Mountie. An assistant commissioner in the RCMP.
Isabelle Lacoste opened her mouth to introduce them, but the man was already stepping forward to meet Gamache, his hand out, a smile on his face.
It was a restrained smile, one of greeting rather than happiness. It was, after all, a tragedy that had brought them together.
“Commander Gamache,” he said. “I’m sorry for the circumstances, but can’t say I’m sorry to finally be meeting you.”
“This is Deputy Commissioner Gélinas,” said Isabelle Lacoste. “He’s here to help with the investigation.”
“Help” was, of course, a euphemism. For all his courtesy, Deputy Commissioner Gélinas was there as a watchdog. Watching them. Dogging them.
“Paul Gélinas,” said the Deputy Commissioner.
“Armand Gamache,” said Gamache. “A pleasure.”
The RCMP officer’s handshake was firm, but not crushing. There was no attempt, or need, to show force. It was assumed.
“The Deputy Commissioner was visiting the RCMP headquarters in Montréal from Ottawa when Chief Superintendent Brunel called with a request for oversight,” said Lacoste.