Page 115 of The Grey Wolf
“Are they still here? Can I speak with them?”
“I’m afraid they’ve moved on now.”
“Where to?”
“I can’t tell you that. The only reason their names are noted is because of what happened.”
Beauvoir didn’t dare speak. He held his breath, willing her to go on.
“The three of them shared a common passion. One that finally got them into trouble, and that’s what led to Brother Sébastien leaving.” On seeing Beauvoir’s face, Sister Joan hurried to say, “No, the passion isn’t what you’re thinking. In fact, it’s one Brother Sébastien, if I’m right, now uses with the full blessing of the church. Though at the time it crossed what the seminary considered a line, especially for a teacher, a role model.”
“And that line was?” He had to ask, though he knew she would not answer.
And he was right. So he forged ahead. “Brother Sébastien left. I’m assuming that’s a euphemism for fired.” When she didn’t deny it, he went on. “The other two were allowed to stay.”
“Yes.”
“But they eventually left. Did one go to Rome too?”
Sister Joan raised her brows and Jean-Guy smiled. She was surprised he knew about Rome. She was thinking, trying to formulate a reply that didn’t violate her ethics.
But he had his answer.
Armand arranged to meet Dom Philippe’s best friend at a local brasserie in the town of Saint-Alphonse-de-Granby, where the priest had retired.
Armand looked around, and his eyes landed on a man sitting alone. Despite the crowd, Armand knew exactly who he was. It wasn’t difficult to spot a retired cleric.
“Father David?”
“Monsieur Gamache.” The older man struggled to stand in the booth.
“S’il vous plaît.” Armand waved him down and shook the priest’s offered hand.
The man was physically frail but exuded well-being and a bonhomie that was contagious.
Armand slid into the booth. They talked about the weather and the Canadiens’ draft picks until their cold drinks and sandwiches arrived.
“You mentioned Dom Philippe. As I told you on the phone, it’s been years, decades, since we were in touch.”
“Yes, but I’d like to know everything you remember about him from your student days.”
“Is this somehow connected to the death of that young man? I saw what happened to him. To you.”
“I’m not sure. Investigating can be less about discovering what’s important than eliminating what’s not.”
While Armand took a sip of his iced tea, the priest smiled. “Not that different from what I used to do. Each day people would come to me to confess their sins and ask for absolution. Minor sins, mortal sins, cardinal sins, original sins. We have a truckload of them in the church. As a priest, I had to investigate, to ask questions. To decide on the category. Which are we talking about, Monsieur Gamache?”
“A mortal sin.”
Father David put down his tuna sandwich and sat back in the banquette. “Committed by Yves?”
“Yves was his birth name?”
“Oui.Yves Rousseau. Did he—”
“Non.I believe he’s trying to prevent deaths. But that’s put him in danger. I need to find him. And I need to find out what he knows. I think he tried to tell me but didn’t feel he could let it all out. I suspect he needed to do more investigating.”
“You’re worried about him.”
