Gamache nodded, and continued to stare at the top of the hill, half expecting a bank of black vehicles to roll to a stop up there, like dung on the white snow.
But nothing happened. Not yet anyway.
“We have to assume the worst. That he now knows that Jérôme and I are not in Vancouver,” said Thérèse. “That we didn’t turn our backs on you.” She looked like she now wished she had. “That we’re all here in Three Pines, and still trying to gather information on him.”
She turned back to Gamache and considered him.
“How can we trust you, Armand? How do we know you won’t do something else without consulting us?”
“And I’m the only one holding back information?” he demanded, more angrily than even he expected. “Pierre Arnot.”
He spat the name at her.
“Which is the more damning? The more dangerous?” he asked. “An agent who may or may not be working with Francoeur, or a mass murderer? A psychopathic killer who knows the workings of the Sûreté better than anyone else? Is Arnot involved in all of this somehow?”
He glared at her and her cheeks colored. She gave one curt nod.
“Jérôme thinks so. He doesn’t know how yet, but if they can get that thing to work, he’ll find out.”
“And how long has he kept that name from you? From me? Do you not think it would have been helpful to know?”
His voice was rising, and he struggled to lower it, to bring himself under control.
“Oui,” said Thérèse. “It would have been helpful.”
Gamache gave a curt nod. “It’s done now. His mistake doesn’t excuse my own. I was wrong. I promise to consult you and Jérôme in the future.” He held out a gloved hand to her. “We can’t turn on each other.”
She stared at it. Then took it. But she didn’t return his thin smile.
“Why didn’t you arrest Francoeur at the same time as Arnot and the others?” she asked, dropping his hand.
“I hadn’t enough proof. I tried, but it was all insinuation. He was Arnot’s second in command. It was inconceivable that Francoeur wouldn’t have been involved in the Cree killings, or at the very least known about them. But I couldn’t find a direct link.”
“But you found a link to Chief Superintendent Arnot?” asked Thérèse.
She’d touched on something that had long troubled the Chief Inspector. How he could have found damning and direct evidence against the Chief Superintendent but not against his second in command.
It had worried him then. It worried him now. Even more.
It suggested that he’d not only missed all the rot, but he’d missed the source of it.
It suggested someone had protected Sylvain Francoeur. Covered for him. And hadn’t covered for Arnot. Someone had thrown Arnot to the wolves.
Was that possible?
“Oui,” he said. “It was hard to find, but evidence linking Arnot with the killings was there.”
“He always maintained his innocence, Armand. You don’t think…”
“That he really was innocent?” asked Gamache, shaking his head. “No. Not a chance.”
But, he thought to himself, perhaps Pierre Arnot was not quite as guilty as he’d thought. Or, perhaps, there was someone who carried even more guilt. Someone still free.
“Why did Chief Superintendent Arnot do it?” asked Thérèse. “That never came out in court, or in any of the confidential documents. He seemed to respect, even admire the Cree at the beginning of his career. Then thirty years later he’s involved in killing them. For no reason, apparently.”
“Well, he didn’t do the actual killing, as you know,” said Gamache. “He created a climate where the use of lethal force was encouraged. Rewarded even.”
“He did more than that, as your own investigation proved,” said Thérèse. “There were documents showing he encouraged the killings, even ordered some. That was irrefutable. What was never clear was why a senior and apparently excellent officer would do such a thing.”
“You’re right,” agreed Gamache. “From the evidence, the young men who were killed weren’t even criminals. Just the opposite. Most had no record at all.”
In a place with so much crime, why kill the ones who’d done nothing wrong?
“I need to visit Arnot,” he said.
“In the SHU? You can’t do that. They’ll know we’ve found his name in our searches.” She examined him closely. “That’s an order, Chief Inspector. You’re not to go. Understand?”
