Page 205 of The Grey Wolf
It had long perplexed Gamache how an officer so ill-suited to command could be given such a hefty portfolio. It had become clear in recent weeks that the man was more than just incompetent. He was criminal.
At least we now know that Paolo Parisi brought the botulinum across the border. With Goudreau’s help.
It would be helpful to know what else he allowed in, wrote Armand.Or who else.
Do you want me to do my own investigation? Quietly?
Gamache considered, then shook his head.Early days yet. Good officers are conducting the investigation. They’ll work it all out.
They haven’t arrested Moretti, Lacoste wrote, and saw Gamache’s brows draw together.
Several aspects of the investigation troubled him and that was one. The involvement of the mob. Joseph Moretti had denied any knowledge, and his consigliere had claimed the mob soldiers had been working on their own. Besides, Monsieur Moretti had no connection to the mafia. And no mafia existed, in Montréal or elsewhere. The “Sixth Family” was a fantasy.
That was predictable, but what really troubled Gamache was how it was possible that Chief Inspector Tardiff, the head of the Sûreté’s Organized Crime division, hadn’t known about the plot and the mob involvement. She’d continually denied that the Montréal mafia could be active again, despite what were obvious signs.
Was Tardiff involved? Or had she simply made, as people eventually do, a terrible mistake?
How easy it was to slide into conspiracies. To mistake misjudgment for deceit.
To see treacheries and plots and sedition where none existed.
Gamache was very aware of the warning not to attribute to malice that which can be explained by stupidity. There was much more stupidity around than malice. Though both were dangerous. And he never discounted the malicious.
Evelyn Tardiff wasn’t just a colleague, she was a friend. But then, so was David Lavigne.
Jeanne Caron, on the other hand, was his enemy. And had saved not just his life, but thousands of lives.
Fully recovered from her wound, she’d visited the Gamaches in Three Pines.
“I plan to see your son next,” Jeanne had said. “To apologize for what I did years ago.”
Reine-Marie listened to this, tight-lipped.
They were in the bistro. It was a rainy, cool early-autumn day, and Olivier had lit the fire in the huge grate. Reine-Marie, on hearing thatMadame Caron was coming to visit, had refused to allow the woman in her home.
She appreciated that Caron had saved Armand’s life on that terrible day and that she should be grateful, but as she looked at Caron, all she felt was rage.
Reine-Marie had chosen to sit as far from Jeanne Caron as possible and still be in the conversation. For her part, Jeanne Caron, sensing what was obvious and awkward, tried to ingratiate herself, but it only seemed to make things worse.
Reine-Marie sat composed of stone and wishful thinking that this woman would just leave and leave them alone.
“It’s not that I’m not grateful for what she did, Armand,” Reine-Marie had said when he’d told her Madame Caron was coming to lunch in Three Pines. “But can’t you just send a nice basket of fruit and be done with it?”
He’d smiled. He hadn’t caught everything his wife had said, but he had caught the gist.
When the encounter in the bistro was over, Armand had walked Caron to her car.
“I hope Madame Gamache forgives me one day.”
Armand had nodded but said nothing. Caron wasn’t sure if he’d taken it in. His eyes were slightly unfocused and his expression almost blank.
It would be a while, she knew, before he could return to active duty. If ever. She looked around and knew that there were worse places, worse things, than retiring here.
She hoped he did.
Finally, he stirred. “The key. You gave Charles a key to our home. How did you get it?”
“I wondered if you’d ask. It was your cleaner.” She realized she was talking to him in clear, simple statements, as though he were a child. “On the bus. I had someone lift the key and make an impression. She had no idea. But one thing still worries me. How did Parisi know Charles was meeting you in Open Da Night?”
