A Great Reckoning (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #12)(109)

“How could all the documents be missing?” asked Olivier. “There must’ve been something, wouldn’t you think?”

“There might be some boxes still in the basement of the historical society, but I thought we cleaned it out pretty thoroughly. I’ll take a closer look tomorrow.”

“You could ask Ruth. I’m pretty sure she was a drunk old poet in the Great War.”

“But on whose side?” asked Reine-Marie.

She got up, just as Armand and the others rose.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry,” she said. “You’re welcome to come home. We have plenty of leftovers. Might even throw on a movie. I feel the need for distraction.”

As they left, Armand paused to look back at the stained-glass window and the boy. Pointing. He followed where he was indicating, but there was nothing there. Just a bird in the stained sky.

“Armand?” Reine-Marie called from the porch of the chapel.

“Coming,” he said, and turned off the lights.





CHAPTER 34

There was no denying, it was awkward.

Jean-Guy and Isabelle had headed back to the academy, but Paul Gélinas asked to spend the night with the Gamaches. Reine-Marie was on the verge of telling him where he could go, but Armand jumped in and said they’d be delighted.

“Did you actually say ‘delighted’?” asked Reine-Marie, when they were alone in the kitchen.

“Oui. It’ll be de-wonderful, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re demented.”

He smiled, then bent down and whispered, “He didn’t expect us to agree. Did you notice his discomfort?”

“I was too busy noticing my own,” she whispered back.

In an effort to put if not distance then people between herself and Gélinas, Reine-Marie had gone to the bistro and invited their friends over for dinner.

“What’re we going to feed them?” Armand asked.

Reine-Marie glanced toward the bin of kibble.

“Oh, don’t tell me—” he began.

Reine-Marie laughed. “No. Ruth wouldn’t notice, but the others might.”

“And that’s the only reason you wouldn’t feed our guests dog food?”

“I wouldn’t criticize if I were you, monsieur, given why we have guests in the first place. Delightful.” She shook her head. “But I was actually looking at Gracie and thinking she needs to go out.”

“Let me,” volunteered Armand. At the door, he gave her a stern look of warning.

“I promise, no kibble,” she said, then mumbled, “probably,” loud enough for him to hear.

Smiling, Armand took Gracie out of her crate, put her on a leash, and tried not to step on her as she got underfoot. Henri went with them.

The shepherd and Armand flanked the little creature as they walked around the back garden, Henri digging through the patches of snow to find grass and Gracie copying him.

“I hope you weren’t upset by what I said in the bistro,” came Paul Gélinas’s voice.

Armand looked around and saw the man standing on the back terrace.

“Surprised, definitely.” Armand paused before going on. “Why did you bring up my mother and father?”

It was pitch-dark except for the light from the house. Gélinas was a black cutout against the light from the living room. Through the French doors, Armand could see Clara and Myrna talking, Clara gesturing to make some point. Gabri was listening or, more likely, waiting to talk. Ruth was invisible, having slumped down in the sofa. Rosa and Olivier were staring out the window.

“I think you know why.” Gélinas stepped off the terrace and joined his host.

Gamache’s face was clearly visible in the light from his home. The RCMP officer could see every contour.

There was a small tug on the leash as Gracie strained to join Henri.

Gélinas fell into step beside Gamache. “Are you leading me up the garden path, monsieur?”

Gamache grunted in mild amusement. “Leading you astray? You don’t need me for that. You’re doing quite a good job on your own.”

“I’ve gone off the path? Probably true, but isn’t that where you normally find criminals?”

Gamache stopped and turned to his guest. “And you think I’m a criminal?”

“I doubt you see it that way. To be a criminal, you have to have committed a crime. I suspect you think the murder of Serge Leduc was not a crime.”

“Then what was it?”

“A consequence. A happy opportunity.”

“Happy?”

“Well, perhaps not happy. But a fortunate opportunity. You saw a chance and you took it.”

“And why would I do that?” said Gamache.

“We all reach a sort of crossroads, don’t we?” said Gélinas, his voice grave now. “Some sooner than others. Driven there by some dreadful event. In your case, the death of your parents. In my case, the death of my wife. When faced with an event of that magnitude, some go in one direction and become embittered. They want others to suffer, as they have. Some, though, choose the more difficult route. They become compassionate and kind and patient with the imperfections of others. They want to save others the pain they themselves have felt.”