A Great Reckoning (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #12)(133)

Then she entered alone, closing the door behind her.

“Give me the gun,” she said, holding out her hand.

*

“I think he might have a gun,” Huifen told Nathaniel and Amelia just as they reached the factory mock-up.

“What?”

“How?”

“The Duke gave him one for his birthday.”

The freshmen stared at Huifen.

“And you knew?” Amelia demanded.

“I guessed. It didn’t seem strange. At the time.”

Amelia understood. What seemed incredible now seemed normal then. Leduc had the ability to create an entire world, with its own rules and gravity. Nothing he did could be strange, because he decided what was normal.

“Why didn’t you tell Gamache?” Amelia asked. “After Leduc was killed.”

“I didn’t want to get Jacques into trouble. After the Duke died, I asked him if he had a gun and he denied it. I wanted to believe him.”

“We have to assume he does,” said Amelia.

They’d arrived at the tactical training area and looked at the closed door to the factory.

“Shouldn’t we get a professor?” asked Nathaniel, glancing up and down the empty hallway.

“While Jacques uses the gun?” asked Huifen. “You can go if you want to.”

“Will he use it on us, do you think? Will he shoot at us?” asked Nathaniel.

“Does it matter?” asked Huifen.

“A little,” said Nathaniel.

“No, I mean, will that stop you from going in?” She nodded to the door.

He considered, then shook his head.

Huifen looked at Amelia, who also shook her head and stared at the door.

Four months ago, she was giving blow jobs in exchange for dope.

Four months ago, Nathaniel was waiting tables in Old Montréal, for tips.

Four months ago, Huifen held a gun to her own head.

She reached out for the handle, while the other two stood side by side.

Then she opened the door, and they moved forward.

*

“Give me the gun.”

Brébeuf had gone to his liquor cabinet and poured them both large Scotches, but when he turned around, he held a glass in one hand and a pistol in the other. It was hanging lazily at his side, as though it was a napkin or stir stick.

On seeing it, Armand slowly stood up.

“Is it my turn now? Are you going to shoot me?”

“Like when we played soldier, running all over Mont Royal?”

“I thought we were on the same side,” said Gamache. “Back then. Give me the gun.”

“I’ll give you the drink. You might need it.”

*

Gélinas stood in the middle of the room, his gun aimed at Isabelle Lacoste.

“You were Serge Leduc’s partner, weren’t you?” she said, not asking but telling. Her voice was steady, calm, almost conversational. But the blush in her cheeks betrayed high emotion.

“He was a moron,” he said. No use denying anything now. “But perfectly placed.”

“To fix contracts. You must’ve made millions.”

He gave one jerk of his head, in agreement. “It’s sitting in an account in Luxembourg. I made a mistake when I was talking to Gamache, didn’t I? I mentioned Luxembourg. I knew as soon as I’d said it that I’d said something stupid. It was too specific. And too true. I wasn’t sure if he caught it.”

“He heard. But it just confirmed what he already suspected.”

“When Leduc contacted me to say that Gamache was here and investigating the contract fixing, he panicked. But so did I. I knew Leduc wasn’t clever enough to outwit him. So I came back.”

“To kill Leduc.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

The gun was by his side now, still clutched in his hand.

“But I didn’t have to kill him. Gamache got there first.”

“Non, not Monsieur Gamache,” said Lacoste.

“Then who?” asked Gélinas.

Once again, Lacoste put out her hand. As steady as her gaze.

“There’re two armed S?reté officers outside this room, as you know. It’s over. You’re guilty of theft, but not of murder. Give me your weapon, please.”

And he did.





CHAPTER 42

The cadets raced through the factory silently. Taking stairs two at a time. Glancing into empty rooms before moving deeper and deeper.

Huifen had the map of the factory memorized by now, after many failed attempts to end the mock hostage taking and capture the gunmen.

She’d never been the officer in charge. That had always been Jacques. And it had always ended in disaster for the S?reté. Hostage dead. Agents slain. Gunmen escaped. It was an impossible scenario, they knew. But Leduc had always told them, told Jacques, that he could do anything.

And every time Jacques failed and had to report that to the Duke, the revolver would come out. Not as punishment, Leduc explained. But as a consequence. A teaching tool. For their own good.

Now Huifen led her little team. The freshmen were baffled by her hand signals, so she kept it simple. And clear. And they moved carefully and swiftly forward.

Finally she stopped and they regrouped.

“I don’t think he’s here,” she said, looking around.