Page 155 of The Grey Wolf
Sébastien took Sister Irene aside. “Do you trust them?”
“I didn’t at first, but I do now. I really do believe they are who they say they are.” She stared at him. “Since when are you a lay brother?”
“It was the only way I could get in. I wanted to be close to Robert, in case…”
“Has he told you anything?”
Sébastien shook his head.
“Do you think Dom Philippe knows? He said Robert didn’t tell him anything, but maybe…”
“No, Robert told me he didn’t trust the Abbot.”
“What? Since when? He worshipped Dom Philippe.”
“It was just a feeling he got when they met.”
“Since when do we trust Robert’s ‘feelings’? He’s afraid of the color beige, for God’s sake.”
“Is beige actually a color?”
“Now he’s afraid of Dom Philippe?”
“What’s wrong?” Lacoste, along with Dussault, had edged closer. “What’re you talking about? I heard you mention Dom Philippe. Has something happened?”
CHAPTER34
Commander Michaud raced around the side of the house in Blanc-Sablon, glancing quickly into windows. She saw nothing. Not even a light.
She also didn’t see one of the windows at the front, on the upper level, slide open.
But Gamache did. He also saw the tip of a rifle poke through the lace curtain.
His concern, since he’d heard that the Rousseaus hadn’t been seen in days, was that they were either being held hostage, or were dead inside. Along with Dom Philippe.
If so, there was a chance the killer was still in there.
What was pointing at him was a .22. It was a hunting rifle for smaller game.
This was no professional hitman. This was a frightened villager.
“S’il vous plaît, Monsieur Rousseau. I’m here to help.” Gamache considered edging back toward the protection of the pickup, but worried that any movement might prompt the person to shoot. So he stayed put.
“I met your brother, Yves, Dom Philippe, at Saint-Gilbert a few years ago.” He paused. The tip of the rifle had not moved.
Armand also realized, as soon as he’d seen the small-caliber hunting rifle, that Dom Philippe could not be in the house. He’d have told his brother that the visitor wasn’t a threat.
He put his disappointment aside. The brother would still have a lot to tell them. He must know something if he was so frightened he needed to point a gun at a Sûreté officer.
“I know Yves must’ve warned you about strangers and told you not to trust anyone. But you know Valerie Michaud. You know you can trust her, even if you don’t know me.” He paused. “Look, I’m not even armed.”
Armand took his jacket off and dropped it on the ground.
“Turn around,” the man called.
Armand sighed. No experienced cop would voluntarily turn their back on a gunman. Still, he did it. Pausing to stare at the empty vehicle, then turning back around.
“You see? No gun. Now, please. It’s getting cold.”
