How the Light Gets In (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #9)

How the Light Gets In (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #9) Page 142

“It really is very common,” said the Chief, his voice softening just a little. Not a patronizing tone, but a reassuring one, he hoped.

Come on, come on, thought Gamache, mentally counting the minutes. Not long before the alarm would be raised. He’d wanted to be followed to the SHU, but not caught there.

Monette examined him, then nodded. He turned back down the hall without a word.

Doors opened then clanged behind them as they moved deeper and deeper into the high-security pen. And as they walked, Chief Inspector Gamache wondered what had happened to Monette’s predecessor, and why they’d given the job of guarding some of the most dangerous criminals in Canada to someone so young and inexperienced.

Finally they entered an interview room, and Monette left Gamache alone.

He glanced around. Once again cameras were trained on him. Far from being disconcerting, his plan depended on those cameras.

He placed himself in front of the door and prepared to come face to face with Pierre Arnot for the first time in years.

Finally the door opened. Captain Monette entered first, then another guard came in escorting an older man in an orange prison uniform.

Chief Inspector Gamache looked at him. Then at the head guard.

“Who’s this?”

“Pierre Arnot.”

“But this isn’t Arnot.” Gamache walked up to the prisoner. “Who are you?”

“He’s Pierre Arnot,” said Monette firmly. “People change in prison. He’s been here for ten years. It’s him.”

“I tell you,” said Gamache, fighting, not totally successfully, to keep his temper in check. “This is not Pierre Arnot. I worked with him for years. I arrested the man and testified at his trial. Who are you?”

“Pierre Arnot,” said the prisoner. He kept his eyes forward. His chin was covered in gray bristles and his hair was unkempt. He’d be, Gamache guessed, about seventy-five. The right age, even, roughly, the right build.

But not the right man.

“How long have you been here?” Gamache asked the head guard.

“Six months.”

“And you?” He turned to the other guard, who looked surprised by the question.

“Four months, sir. I was one of your students at the Sûreté academy, but I flunked out. Got a job here.”

“Come with me,” Gamache said to the younger guard. “Walk me out.”

“You’re leaving?” asked the head guard.

Gamache looked back. “Go to your warden. Tell him I was here. Tell him I know.”

“Know what?”

“He’ll understand. And if you don’t understand what I’m saying, if you’re not in on it”—Gamache examined the head guard—“then my advice is to get up to the warden’s office fast and arrest him.”

The head guard stared at Gamache, uncomprehending.

“Go,” Gamache shouted, and the head guard turned and left.

“Not you.” Gamache grabbed the younger guard by the arm. “Lock him in here”—he gestured to the prisoner—“and come with me.”

The young guard did as he was told, and followed Gamache as he strode back down the corridor.

“What’s happening, sir?” the guard asked, working to keep up with the Chief Inspector.

“You’ve been here four months, the head guard for six. The other guards?”

“Most of us have come in the last six months.”

“So Captain Monette might not be in on it,” said Gamache quietly. Thinking as he walked rapidly toward the front gate.

At the final door, Gamache turned to the young guard, who now looked anxious.

“Strange things are about to happen, son. If Monette’s in on it, or if he can’t arrest the warden, you’ll be given orders that won’t seem right, and won’t be.”

“What should I do?”

“Guard that man they say is Arnot. Keep him alive.”

“Yessir.”

“Good. Speak with authority, carry yourself as though you know what you’re doing. And don’t do anything you know in your heart to be wrong.”

The young man straightened up.

“What’s your name?”

“Cohen, sir. Adam Cohen.”

“Well, Monsieur Cohen, this is an unexpected day for all of us. Why did you fail out of the Sûreté academy? What happened?”

“I flunked my science exams.” He paused. “Twice.”

Gamache smiled reassuringly. “Fortunately, you won’t be asked to do science today. Just use your judgment. No matter what orders are issued, you must only do what you know to be right. You understand?”