How the Light Gets In (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #9) - Louise Penny Page 0,129

Chief Inspector’s the only one who can put it all together, then ignore the intruder and go after him. Plenty of time later to deal with the others. You said he’s in some village in the Eastern Townships?”

“Three Pines, yes.”

“Get him.”

* * *

“How long before they find us?” Gamache asked as he walked toward the door. Gilles brought his chair down as the Chief approached, so that the front legs thumped onto the floor. He stood up and pulled the chair aside.

“An hour, maybe two,” said Jérôme. “Armand…”

“I know, Jérôme.” Gamache took his coat off the peg by the door. “None of us is blameless in this. I doubt it would have mattered. We have to focus now, and move forward.”

“Should we leave?” Thérèse asked, watching as Gamache put on his coat.

“There’s nowhere to go.”

He spoke gently, but firmly, so that they could harbor no false hope. If there was a stand to be taken, it would have to be here.

“We now know who’s involved,” said the Chief. “But we still don’t know what they have planned.”

“You think it’s more than covering up hundreds of millions of dollars in graft?” asked Thérèse.

“I do,” said Gamache. “That’s a happy by-product. Something to keep their partners quiet. But the real goal is something else. Something they’ve been working on for years. It started with Pierre Arnot and ends with the Premier.”

“We’ll see what we can find on Renard,” said Jérôme.

“No. Leave Renard,” said Gamache. “The key now is Audrey Villeneuve. She found something and was killed. Find out everything you can about her. Where she worked, what she was working on. What she might’ve found.”

“Can’t we just call Marc Brault?” asked Jérôme. “He investigated her death. He’d have it in his notes.”

“And someone edited his report,” said Thérèse, shaking her head. “We don’t know who to trust.”

Gamache pulled his car keys out of his coat pocket.

“Where’re you going?” Thérèse asked. “You’re not leaving us?”

Gamache saw the look in her eyes. Much the same look he’d seen in Beauvoir’s eyes that day in the factory. When Gamache had left him.

“I need to go.”

He reached under his jacket and brought out his gun, holding it out to them.

Thérèse Brunel shook her head. “I brought my own weapon—”

“You did?” asked Jérôme.

“Did you think I worked in the cafeteria at the Sûreté?” asked Thérèse. “I’ve never used it, and I hope not to, but I will if I have to.”

Gamache looked at the far end of the room, and Agent Nichol working on her terminal.

“Agent Nichol, walk with me to the car, please.”

Her back remained turned to them.

“Agent Nichol.”

Far from raising his voice, Chief Inspector Gamache had lowered it. It moved across the schoolroom, and lodged in that small back. They could see her tense.

And then she got up.

Gamache rubbed Henri’s ears, then opened the door.

“Wait, Armand,” said Thérèse. “Where’re you going?”

“To the SHU. To speak to Pierre Arnot.”

Thérèse opened her mouth to object, but realized it didn’t matter. They were out in the open now. All that mattered was speed.

Gamache waited for Nichol outside, standing on the stoop of the schoolhouse.

Gabri walked across to the bistro and waved, but didn’t approach. It was almost eleven in the morning, and the sun was gleaming on the snow. It looked as though the village was covered in jewels.

“What do you want?” asked Nichol, when she finally came out and the door was closed behind her.

She looked to Gamache not unlike the first Quint, shoved into the world against her will. He walked down the steps and along the path to his car and didn’t look at her as he spoke.

“I want to know what you were doing in the B and B the other day.”

“I told you.”

“You lied to me. We haven’t much time.” Now he did look at her. “I made a choice that day in the woods to trust you, even though I knew you’d lied. Do you know why?”

She glared at him, her tiny face turning red. “Because you had no choice?”

“Because despite your behavior I think you have a good heart. A strange head,” he smiled, “but a good heart. But I need to know now. Why were you there?”

She walked beside him, her head down, watching her boots on the snow.

They stopped beside his car.

“I followed you there to tell you something. But then you were so angry. You slammed the door in my face, and I couldn’t.”

“Tell me now,” he asked, his voice quiet.

“I leaked the video.”

The puffs of her words