A Great Reckoning (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #12)(98)

“Or if not proof, then enough to raise suspicions, gossip. And we know how potent that is.”

“No one would believe her when she denied it,” said Lacoste. “Her history of prostitution would come out. A history Monsieur Gamache was aware of.”

“A student originally turned down, that Gamache accepted,” said Beauvoir. “A young woman no one thought should be in the academy. It would look suspicious.”

“It already does,” said Lacoste. “But anyone who knows Monsieur Gamache would never believe it.”

“True, but who knows him at the academy? The cadets? Their parents? The other professors? He was already distrusted because of all the changes he’d made. Rumors are hard to prove, but they’re even harder to disprove. We both know that character assassination is easy. All it takes is a suggestion. A well-placed word in someone’s ear.”

“Like a bullet to the brain,” said Lacoste quietly, imagining the whispering campaign. Murdering a man’s reputation.

“And once it got out to the media and the public…” said Jean-Guy.

“But Monsieur Gamache wouldn’t care,” said Lacoste. “He’s had worse leveled at him. He and his friends and family would know the truth.”

“That’s not the issue. All Leduc needed was to undermine his credibility,” said Beauvoir. “Accusing Leduc of criminal activity would then seem like the desperate act of a cornered man.”

“There is one other way Leduc could stop Monsieur Gamache’s investigation,” said Lacoste slowly. “Something more sure to work than blackmail or character assassination. After all, if Monsieur Gamache had proof of Leduc’s crimes, charges would still be laid. It wouldn’t matter what people thought of Gamache. The evidence against Leduc would speak for itself. No, Leduc would have to stop his investigation completely. And what could possibly get Monsieur Gamache to stop?”

Beauvoir was quiet. He too had thought of it, but had chosen not to say anything. He should have known Isabelle Lacoste would see it too. Though maybe she didn’t have the same thing in mind.

“Earlier this month, Monsieur Gamache said he thought a car followed him home to Three Pines,” said Lacoste, and Beauvoir wilted a little.

“Suppose it was Leduc?” she said. “Suppose he followed Gamache, and the map?”

“And it led him to the village,” said Beauvoir.

“It led him to the solution to his problem.”

They sat in strained silence, both following dark thoughts.

“You don’t think…” began Lacoste.

“That Gélinas is right?” asked Beauvoir. “That Monsieur Gamache killed Serge Leduc? Non.” Jean-Guy gave one firm shake of his head. “He would never kill an unarmed man, and he sure as hell would never do it in the school. Non. It’s ridiculous.”

“But suppose Leduc found out where Gamache lived, and had the map to retrace his route,” insisted Lacoste. “So he could find his way back to Three Pines.”

Beauvoir stared straight ahead, blinkered.

But Isabelle Lacoste pushed forward, into territory Beauvoir was refusing to enter. Deeper into the darkness.

“Suppose he knew that Gamache was about to expose him. Suppose the two men met later in Leduc’s rooms, and Leduc threatened Madame Gamache. Or…”

“Annie.”

The very suggestion of anyone even thinking of harming his pregnant wife made Jean-Guy white with rage.

And he knew then that the scenario Lacoste was putting forward was possible. Not probable. But possible. Just.

Because he could see himself doing the same thing.

“I don’t think Monsieur Gamache killed Leduc,” said Beauvoir. “But if he did, in a moment of madness, to protect his family, he’d admit it.”

Isabelle Lacoste nodded. She tended to agree. But then, who knew what people would really do in that situation? Gélinas was right about one thing. If anyone could stage a murder scene to misdirect, it would be Armand Gamache.

“Something else is strange, Jean-Guy.”

When she used his first name, he knew it was serious. And off the record.

“Oui?”

“Deputy Commissioner Gélinas said in the meeting this morning that Monsieur Gamache had asked for him specifically.”

Beauvoir had forgotten about that, in the press of other issues raised in the meeting.

“But I thought you put in the request,” he said.

“Yes, I thought so too. But Monsieur Gamache admitted it. He even said he’d asked for Gélinas because he admired him.”

“So Monsieur Gamache went behind your back?” asked Beauvoir. “And arranged for the RCMP Deputy Commissioner to come down and be the independent observer?”

“Yes.”

“But why?”

So much of what his father-in-law was doing seemed out of character. Could murder possibly be one of those things?

“I have a bad feeling about this, Jean-Guy.”

Beauvoir remained mute. Unwilling to agree, but unable to disagree.

The world ahead of them disappeared. The distorted shadows, the snowbanks, even the road. There were just stars and the night sky. And for one giddy moment it felt as though they’d floated off the end of the world.

And then the nose of the car dipped down, and out of nothing there appeared the cheerful little village of Three Pines.