Nichol had told him.
He’d taken six officers, all he could muster, plus Beauvoir and himself.
He thought it was enough. He was wrong.
“You can’t do this,” Chief Superintendent Francoeur had said, his voice low with warning. The Chief Superintendent had burst into his office as he’d prepared to leave. In his ear Paul Morin was singing the alphabet song. He sounded drunk, exhausted, at the end.
“Once more please,” Gamache said to Morin then whipped off his headset and Chief Superintendent Francoeur immediately stopped talking.
“You have all the information you need,” the Chief Inspector glared at Francoeur.
“Gleaned from an old Cree woman and a few sniff-heads? You think I’m going to act on that?”
“Information gathered by Agent Lacoste, who’s on her way back. She’s coming with me, as are six others. For your information, here are their names. I’ve alerted the tactical squad. They’re at your disposal.”
“To do what? There’s no way the La Grande dam is going to be destroyed. We’ve heard nothing about it on the channels. No one has. Not the feds, not the Americans, not even the British and they monitor everything. No one’s heard anything. Except you and that demented Cree elder.”
Francoeur stared at Gamache. The Chief Superintendent was so angry he was vibrating.
“That dam is going to be blown up in one hour and forty-three minutes. You have enough time to get there. You know where to be and what to do.”
Gamache’s voice, instead of rising, had lowered.
“You don’t give me orders,” Francoeur snarled. “You know nothing I don’t and I know no reason to go there.”
Gamache went to his desk and took out his gun. For an instant Francoeur looked frightened, then Gamache put the pistol on his belt and walked quickly up to the Chief Superintendent.
They glared at each other. Then Gamache spoke, softly, intensely.
“Please, Sylvain, if I have to beg I will. We’re both too old and tired for this. We need to stop this now. You’re right, it’s not my place to give you orders, I apologize. Please, please do as I ask.”
“No way. You have to give me more.”
“That’s all I have.”
“But it doesn’t make sense. No one would try to blow up the dam this way.”
“Why not?”
They’d been over this a hundred times. And there was no time left.
“Because it’s too rough. Like throwing a rock at an army.”
“And how did David slay Goliath?”
“Come on, this isn’t biblical and these aren’t biblical times.”
“But the same principle applies. Do the unexpected. This would work precisely because we won’t be expecting it. And while you might not see it as David and Goliath, the bombers certainly do.”
“What are you? Suddenly an expert in national security? You and your arrogance, you make me sick. You go stop that bomb if you really believe hundreds of thousands of lives are at stake.”
“No. I’m going to get Paul Morin.”
“Morin? You’re saying you know where he is? We’ve been looking all night,” Francoeur waved to the army of officers in the outer office, trying to trace Morin. “And you’re telling me you know where he is?”
Francoeur was trembling with rage, his voice almost a scream.
Gamache waited. In his peripheral vision he could see the clock, ticking down.
“Magog. In an abandoned factory. Agent Nichol and Inspector Beauvoir found him by listening to the ambient sound.”
By listening to the spaces between words they’d found him.
“Please, Sylvain, go to La Grande. I’m begging you. If I’m wrong I’ll resign.”
“If we go there and you’re wrong I’ll bring you up on charges.”
Francoeur walked out of the office, out of the incident room. And disappeared.
Gamache glanced at the clock as he made for the door. One hour and forty-one minutes left. And Armand Gamache prayed, not for the first time that day, or the last.
“It could’ve been worse,” said Emile. “I mean, who knows who made this video? They could’ve made the entire operation look like a catastrophe. But it doesn’t. Tragic, yes. Terrible. But in many ways heroic. If the families have to watch, well . . .”
Gamache knew Emile was trying to be kind, trying to say the editing could have made him out to be a coward or a bumbling idiot. Could have looked like those who died had squandered their lives. Instead everyone had looked courageous. What was the word Emile used?
Heroic.
Gamache slowly climbed the steep stairs, Henri at his heels.