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“Good.” Again dropping his voice, he whispered to both, “Do not fire, no matter what happens, unless they shoot first. And then, give ’em everything you’ve got.”
“And you?” Beauvoir asked.
“I think by then you’ll be on your own. With my profound apologies. However…” Gamache looked behind him. “… there is something that might help.”
He walked over to Dagenais and cuffed him to his chair. Then he wheeled the captain in front of Chernin and Beauvoir. In the direct line of fire.
“Oh, fuck,” muttered Dagenais.
“That’s better.” Gamache smiled, though his eyes held no amusement.
“Wait.” For the first time, there was desperation in Dagenais’s voice. “I know who killed Clotilde. Let me go and I’ll tell you, then I’ll disappear. Everyone wins. Everyone lives.”
Do it, thought Beauvoir. He could, at last, see some daylight between himself and catastrophe.
“I know who killed Clotilde,” said Gamache, staring at Dagenais.
“You think it was me? If it was, I’d have made sure she was never found.”
“You went to the house after she disappeared,” said Gamache. “That’s why you didn’t send anyone to look after the children. You needed time alone, to do what you had to do. You threatened them, if they told. And you gave the kids a huge new television. Textbook abuser. Threaten, then reward. They claimed no one visited, but that was clearly a lie. Someone did. There were no fingerprints on her keyboard, files were destroyed, and though the kids said the TV was old, we found the packaging in the backyard. It arrived after Clotilde disappeared.”
Beauvoir kept his eyes forward, trained on the agents. He knew Gamache had just lied. Yes, they’d found the packaging, but there was nothing on it to show when it had been delivered.
“You erased what you could of the hard drive, though not”—Gamache looked at the photo of the naked man—“quite well enough. And you found her record book. Did you destroy it?”
He stared at Dagenais, considering.
“No. You were selective in the videos you erased. Or copied? That’s what you did, didn’t you? You copied those incriminating videos Clotilde had made and kept her written records to blackmail the others.”
“You’re guessing.”
“True,” admitted Gamache. “But we’ll find the evidence.”
“You’d have to leave to do that, and there’s no way you’re getting out of here.”
“We’ll see,” said Gamache.
He stepped away from Dagenais, nodded to Inspector Chernin, then said quietly to Beauvoir, “You’re doing well.”
Jean-Guy Beauvoir felt himself steady. He nodded to the Chief, then watched in amazement. Surely he wasn’t …
But Gamache did.
He opened the door and stepped out. With a clatter, Dagenais’s agents turned to him. Weapons pointed. Poised to fire.
While his face was composed, Gamache’s heart pounded. This was, his desperate mind had told him, the only hope they had. But still, but still …
He opened his arms wide to show that he wasn’t concealing anything.
The next few seconds were the most dangerous. All it would take was for one agent to panic. Then there would be a bloodbath. And it wouldn’t be just him lying dead in a pool of blood, but Chernin and Beauvoir and Dagenais and at least some of these agents.
And those two hikers, waiting in an interview room, would have to be killed. These agents couldn’t just let that man and woman go. Not after this slaughter.
They’d chosen a bad day for a stroll in an ancient forest.
The seconds ticked by. Five. Six. The agents were jumpy, staring back at him and glancing at each other. Unsure what to do.
Eight.
