Page 171 of The Grey Wolf
“You think Caron and Dom Philippe have gone there?” Beauvoir asked. “Why?”
“Honestly? Because I can’t think where else they might’ve gone. If the attack is soon, within hours, maybe a day, they’ll probably want to make sure everything’s in order. I’m hoping they’ve set up a meeting with whoever has the poison and is actually going to do it. Where better than a shelter for homeless men and women? A safe place.”
“A sanctuary,” said Caron’s assistant, sitting forward. “The old man used that word when he was convincing Madame Caron to go with him.”
“He said sanctuary?” said Gamache.
“Yes. Said they’d be safe. Do you really think Monsieur Lauzon is also involved?”
“Involved?” said Beauvoir. “He’s the black wolf.”
“The what?”
“The one behind this. When thousands die, tens of thousands get sick, someone will have to be blamed besides the terrorists. And it won’t be him.”
“The Prime Minister,” said the Mountie.
“Exactly. It’ll be seen as his failure. There’ll be a revolt against him in caucus. The Deputy PM, Lauzon, will take over. He’ll declare martial law, suspend civil liberties. Political enemies will be silenced.”
“A coup,” said Castonguay.
“A police state,” said Sargent Gauthier.
“I’ll text my friend,” said the assistant, “and tell her I can’t make dinner. Then she won’t be worried when I don’t show up.”
Gamache handed the phone to him, but caught the eye of the Mountie, who made sure that was what the young man really wrote.
“You again.” Claudine McGregor stared at the two men in front of her.
Caron’s assistant and the RCMP officer had stayed in the car. A Mountie in full dress uniform tended to draw not the most welcome attention at a homeless shelter.
Gamache and Beauvoir, however, were beginning to fit right in.Both were worn and drawn. Their clothes were rumpled and slightly soiled and not as fresh as they once were.
“Need a bed, gentlemen?” the Executive Director of The Mission asked. “And a bath?”
Gamache gave her a tight smile. “We need information. Is the man you call the Big Stink here?”
He felt ridiculous calling the Abbot that, and even more ridiculous when she corrected him.
“No ‘the,’ just ‘Big Stink.’”
Gamache stared at her, waiting for an answer.
“I’m not going to give the cops information on any of our clients. This is a safe place for them. They need to know that.”
“A sanctuary?” asked Gamache. “Did Big Stink call it that?”
“How should I know? I didn’t follow him around. Tried to keep upwind of him.” She held Gamache’s eyes. “Okay, look, he isn’t here.”
“We can get a warrant,” he said.
“Then get one. But you’ll be wasting your time. I get the feeling you don’t have much to waste. I’m telling you the truth, Chief Inspector. I really am.”
Gamache gave a curt nod and made for the door. “Come on. They’re not here.”
“You believe her?” asked Beauvoir, following him out onto the street.
“Do you?”
