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How could this be?

Of course. The body in the lake. Gamache had come up himself to investigate. No doubt having heard what an incompetent, shit-for-brains, dumb-as-fuck officer was in charge.

The man in the doorway was in his late forties, tall, not heavy but sturdy. His Sûreté-issue coat was open, and Beauvoir saw he was wearing a shirt and tie. A tweed jacket. Gray flannel slacks. No gun.

He looked, Beauvoir thought, more like a college professor than a man who chased killers.

The Chief Inspector cocked his head and smiled. Very slightly.

“Bonjour. My name,” he said, coming forward and holding out his hand, “is Armand Gamache. And you are?”

“Beauvoir. Jean-Guy. Agent.” He had no idea why he’d suddenly started talking backward.

“I’m here to investigate the death of the woman whose body was found by hikers. I presume you know the lake?”

“Moi?” said Beauvoir. Jean-Guy. Agent.

“Answer the man, you cretin,” said Dagenais. Gamache turned and must’ve given the captain a look because he backed up a step and remained quiet, though his expression spoke volumes as he glared at his junior officer.

Don’t embarrass me. Don’t fuck this up.

“Oui. I know it.”

“Bon. If your captain has no objections, perhaps you can drive me there and help with the investigation. It’s good to have a local officer.”

Dagenais’s brows shot up. “Are you sure, sir? We have other—”

“No, this agent will do. Merci.”

Agent Beauvoir smirked at his captain as he followed the Chief Inspector up the stairs, through the small station, and out the door. For Gamache to have chosen him meant only one thing, Beauvoir realized. His brilliance must be known even at headquarters.

At the car, Dagenais took Gamache aside.

The wind was picking up, causing a swishing sound in the thick pine forest. The captain hunched his shoulders as he spoke.

“Be careful of him. He’s trouble. I was just writing an evaluation, recommending he be fired.”

“Why?”

“Insolence. But it’s more than that. He’s angry. Discontented. And that sort of thing spreads.”

Gamache agreed. Infighting among men and women with guns was a disaster, especially if their anger and resentments spilled out onto a defenseless population.

He’d seen it happen. And yes, it often started with a single malcontent.

Gamache had heard rumors of irregularities at this detachment, which was why, when the report of a possible homicide came in, the Chief Inspector chose to investigate it himself.

He glanced at the young cop getting into the driver’s seat. Then at Captain Dagenais.

This Agent Beauvoir had been banished to the basement for a reason. It was where the malcontents were placed. And yet, and yet …

He looked into the car just in time to see Beauvoir give the finger to his fellow officers. Gamache sighed. And yet, and yet …

As they drove toward the scene of crime, the Chief Inspector gave the young agent instructions. What to do. What not to do.

“Do you understand?” he asked when his words were met with silence.

“I do. It’s all pretty obvious.”