Kingdom of the Blind (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #14) - Louise Penny Page 0,61

herself as she trudged along—

—the one-eyed man is king, Gamache read.

* * *

“Chief Inspector?”

Beauvoir turned and saw Francis Cournoyer walking down the corridor after him.

“A word, please.”

Jean-Guy had been interrogated for an hour and finally been allowed to leave. But he hadn’t made it very far down the hallway before Cournoyer caught up with him.

The Ministère de la Justice man looked around, then pulled Beauvoir into the washroom and locked the door.

“You forgot this.” He held out a manila file folder.

Beauvoir looked at it. It contained the statement.

“I didn’t forget it. I’m not signing. Ever.”

“It doesn’t say anything we don’t already know,” said Cournoyer.

“But signing it would say a lot about me, wouldn’t it?” said Beauvoir. “Drop it. Drop this whole thing. Do what’s right.”

Cournoyer smiled. “Is it so clear to you, always? What’s right? It isn’t to me. And it isn’t to Gamache.”

“That’s a lie. He did what was right.”

“Then why do so many decent people think it was wrong? Not just them”—he jerked his head toward the interview room—“but others. Good people, yourself included, disagreed with his decision.”

He looked closely at Beauvoir.

“You’re surprised I know that? By the Chief Superintendent’s own testimony, you pleaded with him to stop the shipment of opioids. Every one of the agents in the inner circle begged him to stop it. He admits that. But it didn’t stop him. He let it onto the streets, to potentially kill thousands.”

“It hasn’t hit the streets yet, and he’s gotten most of it back.”

“But not all. And it will hit the streets, any day now. Any minute now. Every young death will be laid at his feet.”

“You think he doesn’t know that? Isn’t that bad enough for him? You have to make it a public lynching? It’s disgusting. You’re disgusting. I won’t have anything to do with it.”

“You’ll change your mind. Before this’s over, you’ll sign.”

“I won’t. What’s your endgame in all of this? It can’t be just protecting politicians.”

Cournoyer unlocked the bathroom door, and then, looking back at Beauvoir, he seemed to make up his mind.

“Ask Gamache.”

“What?”

“Ask him. He knows far more than he’s telling you.”

Cournoyer tossed the file, with the statement, onto the floor and left.

Jean-Guy stared at it. Then picked it up.

CHAPTER 21

“Your Benedict … Pouliot does not live in 3G, as it turns out,” said Isabelle Lacoste, picking up the burger with both hands and taking an almighty bite.

“But he does live in the building?” asked Gamache. “With his girlfriend?”

He had to wait while Isabelle chewed and chewed.

Beauvoir, who’d just joined them in the diner on rue Ste.-Catherine, waved at the server. “I’ll have one of those too, please, and a hot chocolate.”

It was difficult for a grown man to order a hot chocolate with authority, but he tried.

Armand smiled. But his amusement faded on catching the look Beauvoir gave him.

And Armand felt a slight chill, as though a locked door had opened, just a little.

“Oui,” said Lacoste, finally swallowing. It had been a while since she’d been this hungry. “Well, sort of. They used to live in … 3G, but she moved out a month or so ago, and he moved into a smaller apartment. Same building. Did you know he’s the … caretaker?”

She went to take another bite, but Gamache put his hand on her arm to stop her.

“I didn’t know that. So he has no girlfriend?”

“Not anymore. Not that the neighbors know. I spoke to half a dozen of them. They all said pretty much the same thing. They’d lived together for a couple of years. The parting seemed … amicable.”

She took another bite. The place might look like a dive, but the burger was freshly made, perfectly charbroiled, and delicious.

She did not mention that she’d hauled herself all the way up three flights of stairs, pausing at every second step to catch her breath. Only to discover that someone else now lived in 3G and the apartment she was looking for was actually just off the lobby.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she’d mumbled with each careful step down.

“What do they think of Benedict?” Beauvoir asked.

“They said he’s polite. Nice. Trustworthy. There’re a lot of older people in the building, and they seem to have adopted Benedict.”

“He has that effect on people,” said Gamache. “He’s a good handyman?”

“Yes,” said Lacoste. “According to the other tenants, he seems to know … what he’s doing. But he hasn’t been around for a couple of days.”

This description of Benedict was far from conclusive. A handyman could fix a leaking faucet. He could not, necessarily,