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“Unless,” she continued, “because of his vast ignorance, he could be easily manipulated. Or, more likely, you were part of it. There to help them cover up. If you knew crime, presumably you’d also know how to hide it.”

“While we’re at it,” said Beauvoir, “why put a competent engineer—”

“Brilliant engineer.”

“—in a department where there’s no original engineering done? Unless the idea is that you’re there to cover up, to make sure I didn’t spot anything.”

“No fear of that,” said Madame Arbour. “You’re perfectly capable of missing it without my help.”

“Their office Christmas parties must be fun,” said Daniel to his mother.

“I eventually realized my mistake,” Jean-Guy admitted. “You weren’t covering up, you were digging for something, and I wanted to know what. That’s why I went to your home this afternoon. To find out what you knew about the Luxembourg project. But you surprised me.”

“How?” Gamache asked.

“Patagonia,” said Arbour. “I still think there’s something off with Luxembourg, but like we talked about at the Eiffel Tower, I think Patagonia’s the key.”

“The Eiffel Tower?” asked Annie. “Why go there?”

“I needed someplace where we wouldn’t be overheard,” said Jean-Guy.

“It’s perfect,” Armand agreed, though Reine-Marie noticed that just the mention of it had made him, and Daniel, pale. “Now, what about Patagonia?”

“Wait a minute,” said Madame Arbour, putting up her hands and looking around. “If we had to go all the way to the top of the Tour to avoid listening devices, what’s stopping someone from listening in now?”

“Nothing. I can almost guarantee they are,” said Gamache.

“What?” said Daniel. “With all we’ve talked about? Are you kidding me?”

“They might not be, but we have to assume they are. There’s no avoiding it.”

“Then shouldn’t we be discussing the weather or ice hockey or whatever it is you Canadians talk about,” said Madame Arbour.

Gamache got up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. “There may be bugs in the room, but more likely high-powered mics from one of the buildings nearby.”

He paused to gaze out, then turned to them.

“They’ve attacked Stephen, first with blackmail and then they tried to kill him. They succeeded with Monsieur Plessner. They’ve set you up, Daniel. They’ve done everything they can, over the course of years, it seems, to cover up, to hide. I want them to know”—he raised his voice slightly and turned back to the window—“that they’ve failed.” Then he dropped his voice and whispered, “We’re coming for you.”

He’d leaned so close to the window that his words fogged up the glass. And on it, he drew what looked like a snowflake before returning to his chair. “Let’s continue.”

“They’ll hear everything we say,” said Annie, lowering her voice. “They’ll know what we know. And don’t know.”

“Yes, but—” Jean-Guy began.

At that moment there was a bang and the door to the suite blew open. While the others froze, Armand and Jean-Guy sprang to their feet.

Roslyn and the girls came in. Laughing and talking. Then, seeing their faces, Roslyn stopped.

Armand immediately lowered the knife he’d grabbed from the tray. A spoon clattered out of Jean-Guy’s hand.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” said Jean-Guy.

“Nice, Rambo,” said Annie, glancing at the spoon.

“Yeah, well, look what you grabbed, Betty Crocker.”