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Any invasion might not be the cakewalk the computer models suggested. He’d have to run another scenario. After he reported to the President, that was.
In Three Pines, under the forgiving gaze of the stained-glass boys, Reine-Marie placed her hand on top of Armand’s.
No one should die alone when he is twenty-one.
And livin’ shouldn’t make you feel ashamed.
CHAPTER 23
“What do you want?”
“To apologize.” Nichol was whispering into the phone. It was the next morning and the others had left, and left her alone. Of course. Still, she needed to be careful. “And—”
“Apologize?” demanded Evelyn Tardiff. She didn’t need to whisper. She was in her office at Sûreté headquarters with the door closed. And no assistant out front. Of course. “For which part? Spying on me? Leaving me? Betraying me?”
“But you knew that’s why Gamache put me in your office. You wanted me to report back to him.”
“That doesn’t make what you did any better. And now you’re with him. You said you were sick, but instead, you deserted me.”
“But we’re all on the same side, non? How can I desert to my own side?”
“You know what I mean.”
Nichol did, and she didn’t. She understood that she’d lied to her Chief. But then Chief Inspector Tardiff had lied to her.
Earlier that morning, before the sun was even up, the four of them had sat at the long pine table in the Gamaches’ kitchen.
A fire was lit in the woodstove at the far end of the room, taking the damp and chill off. The old percolator was bubbling away on the counter, sending coffee vapor into the air.
“No, patron, there’s no way to find out who’s feeding those sites,” Nichol had said, in answer to his question. “That’s the whole point of them. .onion is deep enough, encrypted and protected. But .family is something else.”
“Keep trying.”
“Waste of time, but okay.”
“There are other lines of inquiry,” said the Chief Inspector.
“Thank God for that,” muttered Nichol.
“Any luck tracking the plane that flew Castonguay and his killers to the lake?” Gamache asked.
“Not yet,” said Beauvoir. “We’re scouring the airports and flying clubs. Especially the fish and game clubs. It would help to have some idea of the date.”
Lacoste was shaking her head. “He’d been in the ground too long. You saw the report. Dr. Harris just said weeks.” She turned to Gamache. “I’m trying to track down the corporations that paid to take over Canadian primary industries. We know it was billions and the money was laundered through Action Québec Bleu. Anything from Agent Fontaine?”
“Not yet.”
“From Shona Dorion?”
“Only the isobar information. We’ll stop on our way up to Ottawa and take her with us.”
“Willingly?” asked Jean-Guy.
“If not…” Lacoste showed him what was on her phone.
“Don’t you just hate people who make life difficult?” asked Nichol.
Beauvoir no longer knew when she was kidding. And no longer cared.
