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And two, two had escaped. And not any two but the leaders. The worst of them.

“Go home,” he’d said to Comeau. “Report to me in the morning.”

“It’s not my fault,” Comeau said to Gamache’s back while Inspectors Beauvoir and Lacoste looked at him as though he was a piece of shit.

The message arrived in Gamache’s inbox hours later. He called the head of cybersecurity. When he arrived at the Chief Inspector’s office, he was surprised to see Gamache still in his bloodied tactical uniform. Though Gamache had taken off his Kevlar vest and thrown it and his helmet onto a chair. And he’d taken the time to scrub his hands and face.

“No telling where the message is from, patron. Not until we open it. But it might contain a virus. I’ve tried to put a firewall around it, but … do you want me to flush it?”

Armand rubbed his rough chin and considered. “No. Open it.”

There was no text, but there was a video that opened itself and began playing.

There on the screen was Agent Comeau, cowering on the floor. Begging. While the gang leaders laughed, mocking him as “little man.” Then one stood Comeau up and put his arm around his shoulders as though they were buddies, while the other took the video.

“Say hello. No, say, ‘Will that be fries with your burger, Chief Inspector?’”

And Comeau did, raising his voice above the gunshots in the background. Then the man turned to the camera and grinned. “I’m hungry.”

The video ended.

The officer reached out to press stop.

“No, wait.” Gamache continued to stare at the blank screen. Then another video began. For a moment, he thought it was the same one.

But this time a young woman appeared. A server from the first fast-food joint the gang hit. She was smiling, pleasantly.

Emily was her name, Armand knew. Though, in another life, a kinder one, he would not have known that. Seventeen, he also knew, and wished he did not. She was about to enter the Université de Montréal on a scholarship, her parents had told him.

Armand took a deep breath and held it, almost looking away.

He’d seen this before, but from a different angle. From further away. From the security camera mounted in the ceiling of the restaurant. This view was different. It was close up. Made with a phone.

So close they could see the slight smear of “special sauce” on her cheek, and the wisps of dark hair that had fallen out from the netting.

“Will that be fries with your burger?” she asked.

Armand knew, of course, what had happened next.

At the sound of the gun going off, the cybersecurity officer reeled back so quickly he almost knocked them both over.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod…” He turned and stared at the Chief. “Dear God.”

The screen was blank now. The video ended.

“Do we know where that came from?” demanded Gamache. “Focus, man. Quickly. Do you know? Can you tell?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” He was blithering, confused. Trying to focus. “I’ll need to study it, take it apart—”

“Do it.”

The cyber expert literally ran into Lacoste at the door. Isabelle was holding her own laptop while behind her there were shouts out in the bullpen. Angry outbursts.

“What’s happening out there?”

“A video just appeared,” said Lacoste. “It opened by itself. It—”

“I know what it is.” Gamache was on his feet. He now knew what that shouting outside his office must be about.