A Great Reckoning (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #12)(40)

“No. He often unlocked it first thing in the morning, so we could get in.”

“And what did you do, once in his rooms?” asked Lacoste.

“Put down the tray and left.”

“And the times he was there?” asked Gamache, finally speaking.

“He’d thank me, and I’d leave.”

Chief Inspector Lacoste, after quickly checking a text, got up. “Merci, Cadet Smythe.” She turned to Gamache and Beauvoir. “Dr. Harris is here. Would you like to come?”

“I think now would be a good time to shower and change,” said Gamache. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

He turned to Nathaniel.

“Wait here, please. Pour yourself a coffee, if you’d like.”

Gamache pointed to a coffee maker with a full carafe on the sideboard. “I’ll be out soon.”

Lacoste and Beauvoir left Nathaniel pouring coffee, while Commander Gamache went into the bedroom, closing the door.

He emerged a short time later, shaved, showered, and in a fresh suit and tie. On seeing the Commander, Nathaniel got to his feet.

Gamache waved him to sit back down and, pouring himself a coffee, he joined the cadet.

The sun was up, illuminating a bleak March landscape. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, they could see patches of snow and patches of gray scrub. A month earlier it had been a wonderland of fresh, clean snow, cut across by trails left by cross-country skis and snowshoes. In another month, it would be alive with spring wildflowers and trees in fresh green bud.

But for now it was a sort of zombie landscape. A living dead.

“So, Cadet Smythe, what did you find out about the map?”

He’d asked the question in flawless English, with just a hint of a British accent, and gestured toward the framed painting on the wall.

Nathaniel hadn’t been expecting that question, or the language, and he blushed again.

“Pardon?” he asked, in French.

Gamache smiled. “It’s okay to be English, you know. If you’re not true to yourself, how can you ever recognize the truth in others? I was asking about the map. You and three other cadets were looking into it.”

“We stopped,” said Nathaniel, still in French. “We got sorta bogged down in coursework.”

They were in the odd position, as sometimes happened in Québec, where the Francophone was speaking English and the Anglo was speaking French.

“And what did you do with your copy of it?” he asked.

“The map? I don’t know. It’s around somewhere, I suppose.”

Commander Gamache leaned forward slightly. Enough to be just inside Cadet Smythe’s personal space.

“I’m not asking to make conversation, young man. Everything I ask has a purpose, and never more so than now. This is a murder investigation, not a get-together for coffee.”

“Yessir.”

Nathaniel had switched to English, and his eyes had widened.

“Good. Now, let’s try again. What did you do with your copy of the map?”

“I don’t know.”

On seeing the Commander’s face, he blushed again.

“Really, I don’t remember. I don’t think I threw it away. It’s probably in my desk in the dorm.”

“Go and find it, please,” said Gamache, getting up. “But I do have one more question.”

“Yes?”

“Were you ever in Professor Leduc’s bedroom?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, cadet. There’s no fault to you. No law broken, moral or legal. At least on your side. But I need to know.”

“No, sir. I was never in his bedroom.”

Gamache studied the young man, who now looked as though his head was on fire.

“What was your relationship with Professor Leduc?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’re afraid. And you have reason to keep your private life private, especially here. This has not been, in the past, the most tolerant of institutions. I think you’re very brave to come here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gamache smiled. And nodded. “Just remember, this is now a murder investigation. Your secrets will come out. I’m giving you a chance to tell me quietly.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

Gamache lowered his voice, even though they were alone in the room.

“I will understand,” he said. “Trust me. Please.”

Nathaniel Smythe looked into those eyes, and caught the slight scent of sandalwood and rosewater, though he could never have named the actual aromas. He knew he liked it. It was calming. As were the eyes.

But then he remembered Professor Leduc’s warnings. About Commander Gamache.

And then he remembered Professor Leduc’s body.

“Should I return to my dorm?” he asked, reverting to French. “I can look for the map, if you’d like.”

Gamache held his eyes for another moment, then nodded. “In a minute.”

He picked up the phone and placed a call.

Before long, there was a knock on the door, and a professor stood there.

“Please take Cadet Smythe back to his room, then on to the dining hall.”

“What should I tell the others?” Nathaniel asked at the door. “About Professor Leduc? Everyone will want to know.”