Page 26 of The Grey Wolf
It wasn’t conclusive, but it helped. Gamache brought a hand up to his mouth, thinking. His mind working quickly.
“Do you know the dates?”
“Of the tours when the guy was there?” asked “Charles.” “Are you kidding? I barely know today’s date.”
“When do you volunteer?” probed Gamache. “Specific days?”
“Yes. Every second Sunday.”
That was something at least. A place to start.
The Mission had cameras up. He’d get those tapes and review them for tours when this “Charles” was also there. Have him identify the man who approached him. It should not be difficult.
“The coat,” Gamache began, working his way forward slowly. “You were told to take it.”
“Oui.”
“You put one note in the pocket, but not the other. So someone else put this one in.” Gamache placed his hand on the list of herbs and spices.
And now “Charles” colored. “I lied. I did. I put both in. I was told to.”
“That’s a lie. I saw your face when I handed you this second note. You were surprised. You need to tell me the truth. That’s why you wanted to see me,non? You’re afraid, and I think you’re right to be. You asked to see me. Why? What do you want to tell me?”
Gamache reached for his glass of water, but before he could get there, “Charles” also reached for it, knocking it over. Gamache reacted quickly, grabbing the paper off the table before the wave of water soaked it.
“Why did you just do that?”
“What? It was an accident.”
“It was not. You did it on purpose. You wanted to destroy the paper. Why?”
Now “Charles” smiled. “You think water will destroy that? Believe what you want, but actually, you’re partway there.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Charles’s” lips pressed together, as though he’d said too much already.
Then Gamache had it. He’d been wrong. Very wrong. This whole thing was a lie. And it started with the note.
Please, I need to speak to you. Meet me today. Four o’clock at Open Da Night. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your home.
“How did you know what the man was going to do with my coat?”
“I didn’t.”
“But you put the note in the pocket. You must’ve known the coat was going to be returned to me.”
And there it was. They were finally at the center of the labyrinth Armand had been wandering in since opening the package that morning.
Now he saw his companion for who he really was. Not some ruined creature chosen at random and being set up. This man was at the center of it all. He knew everything.
The man smiled and nodded. His demeanor, his posture, his face, his entire being transformed into someone else.
“You might not believe it, Monsieur Gamache, but I am trying to help.” Even his voice had changed. The joual gone.
“Then why these lies? Why not just tell me? What’s going on? What’s going to happen?”
“Not ‘going to,’” said “Charles.” “Is happening. And has been for a while.”
