A Great Reckoning (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #12)(78)

“A house divided cannot stand,” said Charpentier. “You don’t need to be a brilliant tactician to figure that one out.”

“No, just a master of clichés,” mumbled Jacques.

“And you wonder why I’m a recluse,” said Charpentier to Gamache.

“Oh, there are days I don’t wonder at all,” said Gamache.

“The house fell anyway, didn’t it?” said Jacques. “They all died, those soldiers. Together, maybe. But they all died. That’s not mud on the goddamned map. It’s blood.”

A copy was sitting on the table, and he shoved it at the Commander with such force a glass fell over. Water flooded the table, making its way toward the Commander.

But while the others moved away from it, Gamache stayed where he was, staring at the boy.

Jacques was so upset he was almost in tears. He stared at the Commander’s face. Taking in the deep scar by his temple. And meeting his eyes. Holding them.

“They died,” he whispered.

“Yes, many did,” said Gamache, studying the cadet. And then he reached out and slowly pushed the map back across the table. Away from the water. To safety, and the young man.

Gabri arrived at that moment with their breakfasts and wiped up the water, giving Gamache a quizzical look before he left.

Gamache turned to Charpentier. “Tell them what you told me.”

“I believe that,” the professor pointed to the paper, “is an early orienteering map.”

“A what?” asked Amelia.

“Orienteering,” said Nathaniel. “It’s a sport.”

“Like curling’s a sport?” asked Amelia.

“Curling’s a great sport,” said Huifen. “Have you ever tried it?”

“I don’t have to—”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Gamache. “Just listen to the professor.”

“Orienteering’s a training tool, disguised as a sport,” said Charpentier.

“Training for what?” asked Huifen.

“War. It was used in the Boer War and the First World War to teach officers how to find their way around a battlefield. That’s why it shows things other maps never would. A rock, a fence, an odd-shaped tree, an abandoned house. But it also has contours, like a topographical map.”

He tapped the map on the table.

“Whoever made this knew how to make maps and was also an orienteer, when it was in its infancy.”

“And they must’ve lived around here,” said Nathaniel.

“Do you think the soldier made it himself?” asked Amelia.

“It’s possible,” said Charpentier.

“But?” asked Huifen, picking up on the hesitation.

“But this was done by an experienced mapmaker. The soldier was just a boy. He wouldn’t have had time to learn. Not to this degree.”

“It was done by his father,” said Jacques, who’d been staring at the map while they talked. “To take with him.”

“To remind him of home,” said Nathaniel.

“To bring him home,” said Jacques.

Charpentier looked at Gamache, who nodded. “We think so.”

“Where should we start?” asked Huifen.

“We can figure it out,” said Jacques. “We don’t need their help.”

“But—”

“You’ll ask for help, cadet,” said Gamache. “And you’ll take it.”

“Why?” asked Jacques. “I’ve seen what happens when people follow your orders.”

Armand Gamache put down his knife and fork slowly, with studied care, and stared at the cadet with such intensity, Jacques started to tremble. Even the others at the table, including Charpentier, leaned away.

“The town hall in Saint-Rémy will have records of sales and purchases,” said Gamache quietly, coldly. “Going back a hundred years or more. They’ll know who owned the bistro, when it was a private home. That’s the place to start.”

Nathaniel wrote that down, but Jacques continued to stare into the crosshairs.

Commander Gamache got up, as did they, rising quickly to their feet. Jacques got up too, but slowly.

“I’ll be back by seven tonight. I want your reports then.”

“Yes, sir,” said three cadets.

Gamache turned to Jacques, who said, “Yes, sir.”

“Bon,” said the Commander, and walked over to Myrna. “May I have a word?”

Myrna, feeling called to the principal’s office, followed him into the living room.

“Yes, he found the video,” she admitted before Armand could say anything. But still he was quiet, and she nodded. “I might have suggested he google you.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because he so clearly believed what that Leduc man was saying about you. He needed to know the truth if he was ever going to learn. There’s a murderer. The boy has to start paying attention.”

“No one needs to see that video.”

“Look, Armand, I know you hate that it’s out there, but the fact is, it is. It might as well have a purpose. If it teaches that young man the reality of the situation, then maybe some little good will come of it.”

“Does he look like he’s changed his mind?” asked Armand, and Myrna glanced in the direction of the dining room. And shook her head.