Page 131

Lauzon actually snorted derision. “God, you really are stupid. What you found is a pittance compared to the billions paid out. And not into any account of mine.” He leaned forward. “I’m not the one who can make what they need happen.”

Beauvoir stood up. “Goodbye.”

“Wait.”

Beauvoir did not. He pounded on the door.

“Let’s play a game.”

The door opened. As he stepped out, Jean-Guy heard Lauzon shout, “The game’s called ‘Suppose I’m telling the truth.’”

The door closed behind him. Beauvoir was halfway down the hall when his steps slowed.

“Oh, fuck it,” he sighed. And turned around.

“Ohhhh,” sighed Reine-Marie and closed her eyes. Then she looked up at the others. Ruth, Myrna, Clara were staring at her. Even Rosa looked concerned, something she very rarely did.

“It’ll pass,” said Myrna. “People are focused on the White House. No one will pay any attention to this.”

“And no one who reads this will believe it,” said Gabri.

“It isn’t the first time people have tried to make Armand out to be incompetent,” said Clara.

“Ridiculously easy to do,” said Ruth, and Rosa nodded agreement.

“Except, this time—” Nichol began.

“I think you have work to do,” Reine-Marie interrupted her.

The last thing she needed was for Nichol to complete that sentence: This time the posts are true.

That Armand really did believe the US was being groomed to take over Canada, by force, if necessary.

It sounded crazy. Delusional. Except to those few who understood the global water crisis, and what the future held for drought-stricken nations. Including their neighbor to the south.

“Wait,” Beauvoir shouted.

Lauzon was being led away. The guard kept going, despite Beauvoir’s call.

Now he repeated, louder: “Wait!”

This time the guard paused, then turned. “What?”

“I need to speak to him.”

“You just did.”

The guard had his hand gripping Lauzon’s thin arm. It did not look right. And neither did the expression on Lauzon’s face. It looked to Beauvoir as though the man was about to cry.

“Bring him back to the interview room.” When the guard hesitated, Beauvoir approached. For a not-very-large man, he had the ability to look menacing. A bundle of tightly wired threat about to come unraveled.

The guard escorted Lauzon back.

Beauvoir made a note of his name, then followed the former politician into the room. When the door closed, Lauzon exhaled.

“Okay, I’ll play,” said Beauvoir. “Suppose you’re telling the truth about what?”

“That I am not the one behind, or even involved, in all this. I’ve been set up. Just for a moment, Inspector, entertain that possibility.”