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Annie looked at the scone, now crushed in her hands. And smiled.

“Okay,” said Roslyn, uncertainly. “We’re just getting our coats. Sky’s clearing, so we thought we’d walk over to the Arc de Triomphe.”

Daniel got up, hugged them, and explained that it was probably best if they stayed in the suite. Roslyn was about to protest when she studied his face and nodded.

“Come on, girls. Grab your books. We’ll go upstairs, lie on the bed, and read.”

It took some convincing, and the promise of time on the iPad, but they finally agreed.

Daniel took them up, then returned to the table. “You’d better be right,” he said to his father. “If you’re wrong and anyone gets hurt …”

He couldn’t finish.

“Yes.” Armand turned back to Madame Arbour. “Tell us what you know about GHS.”

She looked frightened and unsure. And she was.

Séverine Arbour was used to flow charts and schematics. To things that made sense. Or, if they didn’t, there was a method, a way to find the flaw and correct it.

Engineers were problem solvers.

But this was a problem she couldn’t seem to solve. Couldn’t even see. Not clearly.

And it was getting muddier by the minute. She could feel the hysteria roiling up inside her.

Composing herself, she took a deep breath and plunged on.

“This all started—”

Gamache’s phone buzzed with an incoming text, and he dropped his eyes for a moment, then held up his hand.

“Désolé. Just a moment.”

He turned his phone around for all to see the message that had just arrived.

Can we meet? Fontaine des Mers, Place de la Concorde. 9 p.m.

It was from Claude Dussault.

He typed, Oui.

“Are you insane?” demanded Daniel.

“Maybe,” said his father, but without a smile.

“He’s listening,” said Annie, looking around, as though the Prefect might appear from behind the sofa. “He knows we’re getting close. That’s why he wants to talk.”

Instead of answering, Armand put a finger to his lips and, getting up, he motioned them to follow.

CHAPTER 33

Armand took Annie and Jean-Guy aside. Lowering his voice, he said to his daughter, “You need to stay here.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, but Honoré will be awake soon. And there’s—” He pointed to the unborn baby. “Please.”

“Where’re you going?”