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“Thank you for coming.” Armand walked Dr. Lagacé to the garden gate. “I really am most grateful for your help.”

She took his hand and marveled, not for the first time, that this man who hunted killers looked and acted more like an academic. He could be a colleague at the Université de Montréal.

After she left, he turned his attention to the B&B.

It was time.

CHAPTER 40

“I’ll come with you,” said Jean-Guy.

He stood beside Armand at the side of the road.

“Non. You have enough to do. And I think he’ll talk more readily if he doesn’t feel threatened.”

“Me? Threatening?” Jean-Guy had the grace to smile as he said it.

“I can interview him, patron,” said Isabelle. “He has less reason to be wary of me. And there’s less chance he’ll—”

She stopped, but too late. Her words were teetering over the fissure.

“Will what, Isabelle? Go on. I think you’ve wanted to say it for a while.” Armand’s eyes were thoughtful. His tone not angry, but perhaps a little hurt. “It’s okay. What do you want to say? Now’s the time.”

Isabelle paused and looked into the crevasse that had unexpectedly opened between herself and the person she admired and trusted so completely.

“I’m sorry, patron, but he’s manipulated you in the past.” She looked at Jean-Guy for support, but he just stood there looking at his feet. Wishing this conversation weren’t happening.

“Comeau played on your desire to give people a second chance.” She held up her hand against a protest that was not, in fact, coming. Gamache was simply listening. “I know, I know. Both Jean-Guy and I’ve benefited from that. But not everyone deserves one. There are limits.”

“And what are they?”

Isabelle stared at him, as though surprised he’d ask.

“Danger. When a second chance puts all our lives at risk.”

“We’re always in danger. It’s the nature of the job.”

“And some of us can face it, some cannot. We need to trust the person beside us, that they’ll be there for us. Comeau was not. Twice. The man was, is, a coward. If he sold fish at the market, or made shoes for a living, then yes, give him a second, even a third chance. But lives depended on him. Our lives. Your life. You trusted him again, and…”

She stopped. Stepped back. The fissure suddenly felt too deep. Too dark. Far too dangerous.

“Go on,” said Armand, quietly.

She mustered her courage and went on. “He was your protégé. You wanted him to succeed.”

This was true.

Gaston Comeau had been handpicked by Gamache himself. Plucked fresh from the Sûreté academy. Cadet Comeau had been top of his class. In everything. The finest cadet the academy had seen in years.

His marks, his marksmanship, were off the charts. Cadet Comeau was also a natural leader. The others followed him.

Chief Inspector Gamache, once the head of the academy himself, was now one of the visiting lecturers. The current head had pointed Cadet Comeau out to him early on, as one to watch. And watch he had.

On graduation day, Gamache had planned to approach Comeau, but before he could, Cadet Comeau came up to him. He asked if he could one day be considered for a post in homicide.

“Why don’t you take a couple of weeks off,” said the Chief Inspector. “Then report for duty.”

The young agent had been so excited, he’d actually shown up the next morning. A Sunday. His nickname in the department became “Sunday.”