a curt nod. “Best we know. I expect it’ll all be made public soon enough.”
“The interesting thing about your brother,” said Beauvoir as Cloutier brought up the files, “is that almost without exception he was described as decent, brilliant. A great mentor and a man of integrity, who when he discovered wrongdoing, turned the person in, knowing he’d get some of the blame.”
“That was the Tony we knew,” said Hugo.
“But his actions told a different story. A man who was brilliant, yes, but deceitful. Embezzling not just tens of millions but hundreds of millions. Who betrayed a young co-conspirator and turned him in when it looked like they’d be caught. It’s a familiar story for those of us in homicide. People lead double lives. They appear to be one thing while actually being not just something else but something totally opposite to what people think.”
“How else do they get away with it?” said Hugo.
Beauvoir was nodding. “Except most don’t. Let me show you what we found on his laptop.”
* * *
The Premier stood at his desk, and Gamache rose also.
He’d been in the Premier’s Montréal office less than ten minutes.
These things didn’t take long.
“I’m sorry, Armand,” said the Premier, looking down at the unopened envelope on his desk. “If there was any other course possible, I’d have taken it.”
“I appreciate your telling me yourself, and in person. I knew what would probably happen when I made those decisions. It could’ve been worse. You could be arresting me.”
“You’ve made some enemies, Armand, but you have a lot more friends. I hope you know I’m one of them.”
“I do.”
“And you got the drugs back, that’s what matters. I’ve been reading the preliminary report on what happened. You do know that if you hadn’t already been suspended, you’d have been suspended for what you just did.” He looked at Gamache closely. “And no one else knew you’d had a cadet thrown out of the academy and that she was working with you?”
“No one.”
“Not even Beauvoir?”
“Not even him. Just Cadet Choquet and me.”
The Premier nodded slowly. But decided not to question it further. The less he knew … He walked forward, to show Gamache the door.
“How is she?”
“Recovering. She’ll be running the Sûreté one day.”
“Yeah, well, the job’s open. Apparently you have to be half crazed to accept it, so that bodes well for her. I just hope I’m long retired by the time there’s a Chief Superintendent Choquet.”
Gamache smiled, then paused at the threshold. “There is something you can help me with.”
“Name it.”
“There’s a little girl.…”
* * *
Gamache called Reine-Marie and told her what happened, then drove across town to the low-rise apartment building and pressed the button for the caretaker’s apartment.
Benedict let him in, and a few minutes later Gamache was sitting on a worn sofa in the tiny basement apartment. Katie and Benedict were across from him, sitting on boxes.
“Have you figured out who killed Monsieur Baumgartner?” Benedict asked. “You know, I thought for a minute yesterday, at your place, that you suspected us.”
“More than a minute,” said Katie.
“No, I haven’t come about that. Chief Inspector Beauvoir will be by later this morning to talk with you.”
They exchanged glances, then Katie asked, “Why have you come?”
“There’s a decision in the court case in Vienna. It came down this morning.”
Benedict took Katie’s hand, and they waited.
“They ruled in favor of the Baumgartners.”
The couple sat still for a moment, then Benedict put his arm around Katie and she nodded.
“It’s what we expected,” said Katie. “And without that letter the Baron and Baroness’s wishes won’t be followed. They’ll keep it for themselves.”
“It’s theirs to keep,” Benedict said. “You did your best. We’ll be fine.”
He hugged her closer.
“The sins I was told were mine from birth / And the Guilt of an old inheritance,” thought Gamache as he left them and headed over the Champlain Bridge toward Reine-Marie and home.
Maybe it stops now, with their child.
* * *
Hugo Baumgartner was staring at the laptop, his lower lip thrust out in concentration.
“Are you following?” asked Agent Cloutier.
“Yes, thank you,” he said with a patient smile. And returned to the screen. After a few minutes, he sighed. “So Tony and Shaeffer were working together after all. I was wrong. I’m sorry. I really didn’t think Tony had it in him.”
“I’m afraid that’s what it looks like,” said Beauvoir. He scrolled down as he spoke.
Hugo was studying the screen, nodding. “They’ve taken the usual routes to hide money.”
“You know a lot about it?” asked Beauvoir.
“More than some,” he