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Gamache sat back. “What do you think? Is Vincent Gilbert an accomplice?”
Isabelle shook her head decisively. “Non.”
“He was there,” said Jean-Guy. “Standing right beside the guy.”
“But Tardif hadn’t planned to stand there,” said Isabelle. “He wanted to be much farther forward. He only moved back when he saw us. I’ve talked to Tardif a few times, and I can tell you there’s no way Vincent Gilbert would choose him as his accomplice for anything, never mind murder.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Beauvoir.
“Because Gilbert would be sure to find someone who knew what they were doing. Édouard Tardif’s a nice, hardworking man, a decent man pushed to an extreme. He’s not exactly a criminal mastermind.”
“He was calculating enough to almost pull it off,” said Beauvoir.
“But not get away with it,” Lacoste pointed out. “Gilbert would never agree to a plan that saw his co-conspirator immediately arrested.”
“True,” said Beauvoir, nodding slowly.
“I don’t think Tardif would choose Gilbert either,” Isabelle went on. “They’re not compatible. An arrogant academic and a naïve woodsman?”
“You like him,” said Gamache. “Tardif.”
Lacoste considered. “I understand him.”
“And sympathize?” asked Gamache.
She nodded slowly. “My mother’s getting on too. I’d feel the same way.”
“Don’t,” said Gamache. “Édouard Tardif didn’t suddenly pick up a gun and shoot. He planned it. Over days. Setting up a diversion. Almost causing a riot. This isn’t a crime passionnel. This is cold-blooded attempted murder that put hundreds of lives in danger. Let’s not romanticize Monsieur Tardif and his motives or his actions.”
It worried him that his hardheaded lead investigators were doing exactly that.
This case was triggering all sorts of strong emotions, in them all. Including himself.
“Désolée, patron,” said Isabelle. “But there is a problem. While I don’t think Dr. Gilbert was the accomplice, I’m not convinced the brother, Alphonse, is either.”
“Why not?” said Beauvoir.
“Like I said before, he gave in far too quickly, and he was shocked by what he saw on the video. It didn’t seem he expected it. I want to speak to him again.”
“I don’t think we can rule out the Asshole Saint,” said Jean-Guy. “He might not be the accomplice, but he misled us about his relationship with the Chancellor. He didn’t tell us he was in the auditorium, and he was at the party last night. He’s the only one who was at both attacks.”
“Except Robinson herself,” said Gamache.
“And you.” Isabelle narrowed her eyes at Jean-Guy. If there was one thing she enjoyed, it was needling him.
“Don’t make me have to sit between you,” said Gamache. “I think it’s probable the two attacks aren’t related. The first was planned. The second was not. And we still don’t know if Debbie Schneider was the intended victim.”
“I spoke to her father,” said Beauvoir. There was no need to describe the man’s shattered mind. Or broken heart. “He tried to be helpful but couldn’t remember much. He did confirm that Debbie and Abigail had been friends since childhood.”
“Did he know about Abigail’s sister, Maria?” Gamache asked.
“I didn’t know about her when I was talking to him, so I didn’t ask.”
“Can you call him back and ask if Abigail had a sister?”
“Absolument.” Beauvoir made a note. “Monsieur Schneider said he couldn’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt his daughter, and since she’d never been to Québec, he couldn’t see why anyone here would.”
“Her ex-husband?” asked Lacoste.
