Page 212
“Take this to where they’re holding my son.” Before she could ask, he said, “Time’s run out, and I have to take them something.”
Allida Lenoir stared at him, then glanced at the thick file. “You know, stealing a document, especially one as valuable as the number of nails in Calais in 1523, is a criminal offense.”
“I will await the full force of French law,” he said with a smile. “I locked the door behind us. Is there a back way out?”
“Yes. Not used often. It’s down this way. Apparently this was originally built by the second duke as a way to sneak out to see the stable boys.”
Gamache followed her to what appeared to be a dead end. But on closer examination what looked like paneling was actually a stout door.
“This will let you out onto the second floor of the museum. What was once the duke’s bedroom. When you get down to the main level, head to the right. There’s a corridor that’ll take you to a side door. It’ll be locked, but there’s a panic bar.”
“Merci. Lock this behind me. Whatever happens, don’t let them out.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just safer.”
She looked at him, then nodded. “Do you still want me to keep up the Calais ruse?”
“Ruse?”
She looked at the dossier he clutched. “There must’ve been a helluva need for nails in 1523. That file’s unexpectedly thick.” She paused. “But I am not.”
“Non,” he said with a smile. “You’re not.”
He slipped through the door and turned on the flashlight on his phone.
As he took the stairs two at a time, he heard the key turn in the lock.
There was no going back now.
“Where’s Gamache?” asked Alain Pinot.
“He’s gone.”
“Gone? Where?”
“How?” asked Judith de la Granger.
“There’s a door at the other end. He found it and went through.”
“Then we should leave, too,” said Pinot, getting up.
“We can’t.”
“What do you mean we can’t?”
“He locked us in.”
“Why would he do that?” demanded Judith de la Granger.
“Oh, shit,” said Pinot. “That file he found. It’s got the documents, doesn’t it? He’s going to give it to them.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Madame de la Granger. “He’d never do that.”
“No? Then why’s he free and we’re trapped down here?”
“Not trapped,” said Madame Lenoir. “Safe.”