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The Deputy Premier, ignoring her, leaned over the map. “I see in your scenario, Gamache, one of the villages spared would be your own. Don’t you live in some tiny backwater in the townships? I can smell it on you. Smells like shit.”
“Actually, it’s donkey.” He stared at the politician. “What’s your point, Pierre?”
“Oh, Armand, I think you know my point. Once again you would misuse power for your own gain. And…” The Deputy Premier paused and inhaled. “I think what I smell isn’t a donkey. It’s an ass.”
The room bristled.
“You’re right,” said Gamache. “One of the places in the path of the flooding is mine. A small village, insignificant by your standards, called Three Pines. No one’s ever heard of it, and if it disappeared in the deluge, I suspect it wouldn’t be missed. But it would still be a tragedy. As it would for all the other towns and villages you’re ignoring.”
“Thank you for coming, Chief Inspector.” Toussaint put out her hand. “We’ll take it from here. I’ll let you get back to your own work now.”
They stared at each other. The former occupant and the current occupant of the highest office in the Sûreté.
He was dismissed.
He found himself unceremoniously on the other side of the door as it closed.
Armand Gamache had been put in his place.
When he walked into Beauvoir’s office to get his coat and boots and dog, Jean-Guy stood up at the desk. Isabelle Lacoste was also there.
“Interviews over?” Gamache asked.
“Interviews canceled,” she said. “Because of the emergency.”
“Meeting over?” asked Beauvoir.
“Not yet. I gave my opinion, and we’ll see. There’re smart people in there.”
“So why’re you out here?” asked Beauvoir.
“I guess I’m not so smart,” said Gamache with a smile.
“I’m sorry,” said Lacoste. “They shouldn’t—”
“It’s all right,” Gamache assured her. Then noticed that Jean-Guy’s suit, his papers, his chair, and the ceiling had little brown dots all over them.
“Your dog shook,” explained Beauvoir.
“Oh, dear.”
“Yes. That’s pretty much what I said as I washed myself off and scraped down my desk. Gosh, I said. Bit of a mess.” His eyes widened in a crazed look, and Lacoste laughed.
“By the way, do you mind my asking why you have a dog?”
“He belongs to the missing woman.”
“I see.” Beauvoir looked down at the smelly old thing, lying contentedly on the now-filthy rug. “I’m sorry we have to put that search on hold.”
“Actually, we don’t. Or at least I don’t. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to speak to her father in Ste.-Agathe, before the roads are closed. Do you mind if I take Agent Cloutier with me?”
“No, of course not. You don’t need to ask, patron,” said Beauvoir.
“But I do.” Gamache smiled.
“Mind if I come, too?” asked Lacoste. “Seems I’m free for the afternoon.”
“That would be great,” said Gamache. Not only did he value her judgment and company, but he knew that she was a mentor to Agent Cloutier.
