Page 109 of The Grey Wolf
Gamache, thinking about Caron and the Deputy PM, didn’t respond.
“But, Armand, there’s more. The West, especially the States, has its own bioweapons program. It was officially stopped as part of the UN Biological Weapons Convention, but not before there was a warehouse full of the stuff.”
“But it was destroyed, right?”
“That’s what they say.”
Now Armand stood, so abruptly the docents at the Musée looked over at him. One began to approach but was stopped by someone who obviously recognized the senior police officer.
“What are you saying?”
“It’s not official, but it’s pretty common knowledge in the intelligence communities that the US has lost track of some of those weaponized toxins.”
“Who would know?”
“Our mutual friend. But best not to contact him by phone. Do it over the secure texts, and then meet him in person. Can you tell me more? Who do you suspect? There is someone, isn’t there.”
“I can’t say yet.”
“That means it’s someone I know. For a threat like this to get this far along without being detected, it would need someone familiar with anti-terror organizations. Someone who’d know how to hide it.”
She waited for him to agree, but instead, he asked, “What’s the antidote to botulinum?”
“It’s called BAT. It’s an antitoxin.”
“Is there much?”
“Not enough.”
He hung up and stared straight ahead. His face grey. Grim.
The docent who’d made to approach him now looked from Gamache to the statue across rue Sherbrooke, and saw an unsettling resemblance.
The sculpted man in tattered robes was staring straight ahead. His expression filled with despair. With horror.
Armand Gamache, in the bright lobby of the Musée, was staring straight ahead. His expression filled with horror.
There was little to distinguish the head of homicide for the Sûreté and Rodin’sBurghers of Calais.
Both were facing the unthinkable.
CHAPTER25
Gamache was met at his office door by his assistant. “The Super wants to see you. She’s pretty pissed off.”
Gamache dropped his satchel and locked the map in his desk before heading up to the top level for what he knew would be another scolding. This suited him. He also wanted this meeting. It was why he’d returned to headquarters.
It was ten to two. He’d have to hurry along his thrashing if he was going to make the meeting with the Archbishop.
“Where have you been?” demanded Superintendent Toussaint.
“Chasing my tail.” He dropped into a chair, as though weary. “Took a plane up to the Gilbertine monastery, but they wouldn’t let us in.”
“What? Why would you go there?” She seemed genuinely baffled.
“Accch, don’t ask.”
“Well, I am asking. You took a Sûreté plane and disappeared.”
