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A Better Man

Page 41

by Louise Penny


  “They applied. And yes, they do know about the recommendation.” He nodded to the envelope. “I used one of the things you taught me, when making my decision about your second-in-command.”

  “You mean the four statements that lead to wisdom?” asked Armand.

  Jean-Guy shook his head.

  “The three questions to ask yourself before speaking?”

  Again, Jean-Guy shook his head.

  “Then what?”

  “Sometimes you just have to do something stupid.”

  Armand raised his brows, and Annie turned to her mother.

  “Oh, dear God, don’t tell me that’s the lesson he’s taken from Dad?”

  “I thought your dad got it from him.”

  Armand put the envelope in his pocket. He knew the name it contained. Bob Cameron. A lowly agent. Not even an inspector.

  Gamache hadn’t considered him. Cameron had potential, but still, giving him such a promotion would be a hard sell to his superiors, and the rest of the unit. But if someone can drop far, maybe he can also rise fast.

  Armand put out his hand to Jean-Guy, who took it and held it. And looked into those familiar eyes. And saw that, after all these years, after all that had happened, after all the pain and hurt, one thing had not changed.

  In those eyes he still saw kindness.

  And Armand, looking deep into Jean-Guy’s, saw below all the pain, all the hurt, all the ghosts, a gleam. A beam. Of kindness.

  “I’ll find a way to be useful,” Jean-Guy whispered. “Patron.”

  “And so will I. Patron.”

  Then he embraced Annie. “I love you. Take care of yourself. If you need anything, anything at all…”

  “I know, Dad. I love you, too.”

  The young family disappeared through the door, Honoré holding up his hand to wave goodbye.

  It was the secret wave he and his grandfather had worked out after Great-aunt Ruth had shown the boy the one-finger wave. Papa had explained that really, three fingers were even better. For the three pines.

  Armand raised his hand and waved back.

  Then they were gone.

  To start their new life in the City of Light.

  * * *

  Once home, Reine-Marie poured them each a scotch while Armand walked Henri and Gracie. And Fred. Slowly around the village green.

  He looked up as a plane moved overhead. Among the stars.

  * * *

  The next morning the villagers gathered to dismantle the wall of sandbags. All danger was past.

  Then, led by Myrna, they walked down the path beside the Bella Bella, past young fiddleheads and lily of the valley and crocuses in the woods, to the bend in the river.

  Lighting candles and a stick of dried sage, they smudged the area, blessed the area, said a prayer for the dead and the living. Then all walked back to the bistro for breakfast.

  But Armand and Reine-Marie stopped at the bench on the village green. A peaceful place in the bright sunshine. They watched robins hop on the grass. They smelled woodsmoke and mud. And sweet pine.

  Armand put his hand into his coat pocket and felt the envelope there. He’d forgotten it but now brought it out.

  “What’s that?” Reine-Marie asked.

  “From Jean-Guy. His suggestion for my second-in-command.”

  After he’d opened it, he smiled and put it back in his pocket. Beside him, Reine-Marie closed her eyes and tilted her face up.

  Then they walked back to the bistro to join the others.

  Unheard by anyone else, Armand bent down and whispered to Ruth. “I forgive you, but don’t ever do it again.”

  “Do what?”

  “You know.” While he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, especially to the elderly woman, even this elderly woman, he brought out his phone and showed her. The Twitter handle @dumbass. And the link to the real Sûreté video of the raid on the factory. There were other posts by @dumbass, defending Gamache. But when the video went up, they’d stopped.

  There was no longer any need to defend him once that vile video went viral.

  “How did you find it?” he asked.

  “I didn’t. You think I’d defend you?”

  “I do.”

  “I would,” the old poet admitted. “I did. But that’s not me.”

  Armand stepped back and stared at Ruth. He knew her to be many things, but never a liar.

  So if she wasn’t @dumbass, who was?

  * * *

  Madeleine Toussaint sat at her desk and opened her computer.

  Putting in her Sûreté code, she went back over her posts, aimed at Gamache, and deleted them all. Pausing just a moment at the final one.

  Then Chief Superintendent Toussaint hit delete. And @dumbass disappeared. Never, she prayed, to be found. Because if anyone knew … If the Premier found out she’d defied him, and defended Gamache by posting the real video …

  It was an act of contrition. An amend. And now they were even, and she owed her former mentor nothing.

  Looking across the room, her eyes fell on the last remnant of the last occupant. Something she kept meaning to take down. But had kept up. The framed poster, nailed to the wall by the door. The first, and last, thing seen each day.

  Noli timere.

  * * *

  Armand sat on the sofa beside Reine-Marie and reached for the café au lait Olivier had brought them.

  He seemed distracted, but now he reached into his pocket and handed Reine-Marie the envelope. “You might want to read this.”

  “Jean-Guy’s recommendation?” She put on her reading glasses. “Will you take it?”

  “I think so.”

  Armand watched her face as Reine-Marie read. He saw the smile. And relief. As she stared at Jean-Guy’s familiar hand and the name he’d so carefully written.

  Armand’s new second-in-command.

  Isabelle Lacoste.

  Reine-Marie lowered the paper to her lap and looked into the fireplace. Everything might be all right, after all, she thought.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book was initially going to be dedicated to my wonderful agent of fifteen years, Teresa Chris, in thanks for her own dedication to the books. She was the first publishing professional to believe in Gamache and Three Pines.

  But, having said that, I decided to dedicate A Better Man not to my agent, but to a dog. (Sorry, Teresa…)

  Bishop, the golden retriever who shared Michael’s and my life for many years, died while I was writing this book. In fact, I almost changed the name of the dog in the book from Fred to Bishop, but for some reason, “Fred” just worked better. Besides, that was the name of my assistant Lise’s dog, who also died while I was writing A Better Man. He deserved to be remembered, too.

  Bishop is the last in a long line of golden retrievers who have shared, and improved, our lives. Who taught us how to be more generous, more kind, way more forgiving. More patient. More human.

  Our first golden was Bonnie.

  I’d wanted a dog for a long time. Michael did not. Just before we got married I somehow convinced him that a puppy would be the perfect wedding gift to each other. It was, for Michael, the same as giving each other razor-sharp teeth, pee, poop, and tumbleweeds of hair.

  He was not enthusiastic.

  After our honeymoon we picked up Bonnie, all eight weeks of her, and brought her home.

  She immediately peed. Then cried all night.

  In the morning I came down to find Michael cradling her, and Bonnie curled, asleep, in his arms.

  She was forever his. And he was hers.

  Each successive dog, over twenty years, tolerated me and bonded to Michael. Which, I must say, was fine with me. I loved seeing the joy in both their eyes when they spotted each other.

  Not long after Michael was diagnosed with dementia, our last golden, Trudy, passed away. Michael came with me to the vet, and watched, befuddled by what was happening. Upset that I was upset, but not quite grasping why.

  For weeks,

Michael looked for Trudy. And asked where she was. It broke my already fragile heart.

  A month or so later, knowing our distress, Kirk came by and said he’d heard about an old dog, a golden, whose family could no longer care for him. Would we like to meet him?

  Michael was doing his ever-present jigsaw puzzle when Bishop arrived, just for a visit. Bishop took one look at Michael, walked over, placed his teddy chew toy on Michael’s lap, sat down, and barely left Michael’s side, until the day Michael died.

  Bishop was our miracle dog. Our gift from a loving Higher Power.

  He was dedicated to Michael. And so, after Bishop’s passing this spring, at the grand age of fourteen, it seemed only right to return the favor, and dedicate A Better Man to a wonderful dog.

  Indeed, to all our dogs.

  To all the cats, horses, birds, gerbils, fish, and animals who make our lives so much better. Who give up their freedom, for us.

  I now live apparently alone, but in reality I live with Bonnie, Maggie, Seamus, Trudy, Bishop. And Michael. Ever-present and immortal.

  There are also some humans I want to acknowledge.

  Of course, Teresa Chris, my patient (dear God, let that be true) literary agent.

  My wonderful editors, Kelley Ragland, Hope Dellon, Ed Wood. My publishers, especially Andy Martin with Minotaur/St. Martin’s Press in the U.S., and Louise Loiselle with Flammarion Québec. Thank you to Paul Hochman and Sarah Melnyk.

  To Jamie Broadhurst and everyone at Raincoast Books.

  Two people in particular, both lawyers, helped with ideas for A Better Man. Thank you to Laura Marr and Mike Conway.

  Thank you to my family, Rob and Audi, Doug and Mary, to the nieces and nephews, for all your support and patience. For being happy for (though no doubt kinda surprised by) my success. For cheering me on, especially when things got tough. All this would be hollow, meaningless, without you to share it with.

  To Kirk Lawrence and Walter Marinelli, Rocky and Steve Gottlieb. To Jon and Cotton and Betsy and Tom and Oscar and Brendan. To Hillary and Bill and Chelsea and Marc. To Danny and Lucy. Normand and Peter. Robert Bathurst, Ann Cleeves, Rhys Bowen. To Rosemary and Will and David. Kim and Deanna and Sylvie and Nathalie and Erin, Guy, and Jackie, and my neighbors in Knowlton, and, and …

  Special thanks to Linda “In Scotland” Lyall, who manages the website and now answers, with Lise’s help, most of the mail, though I read it all and do answer some. I met Linda face to face for the first time in fifteen years this summer. She’s as beautiful as she is kind.

  And finally, to my assistant, and great friend, Lise. Without her, there would be no books. Lise does so much for me it’s impossible to list it all. But mostly, she’s my friend. My confidante.

  These books are about community. About love and belonging. About the great gift of friendship.

  How lucky I am to live in Three Pines. In every way. With you.

  We are never alone.

  Louise Penny

  ALSO BY LOUISE PENNY

  Kingdom of the Blind

  Glass Houses

  A Great Reckoning

  The Nature of the Beast

  The Long Way Home

  How the Light Gets In

  The Beautiful Mystery

  A Trick of the Light

  Bury Your Dead

  The Brutal Telling

  A Rule Against Murder

  The Cruelest Month

  A Fatal Grace

  Still Life

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  LOUISE PENNY is the author of the #1 New York Times, USA Today, and Globe and Mail bestselling series of Chief Inspector Armand Gamache novels. She has won numerous awards, including a CWA Dagger and the Agatha Award (seven times), and was a finalist for the Edgar Award for Best Novel. In 2017 she received the Order of Canada for her contributions to Canadian culture. Louise lives in a small village south of Montréal. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Louise Penny

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  First published in the United States by Minotaur Books, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group

  A BETTER MAN. Copyright © 2019 by Three Pines Creations, Inc. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.

  www.minotaurbooks.com

  Excerpts from “Waiting” and “Sekmet” from Morning in the Burned House: New Poems by Margaret Atwood. Copyright © 1995 by Margaret Atwood. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved. In Canada: Copyright ©1995 by O. W. Toad. Reprinted by permission of McClelland & Stewart, a division of Penguin Random House Canada Limited.

  Excerpts from Vapour Trails by Marylyn Plessner (2000). Used by permission of Stephen Jarislowsky.

  Art by MaryAnna Coleman / www.maryannacolemandesign.com

  Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

  Cover illustration by Hattie Buckwell

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Names: Penny, Louise, author.

  Title: A better man: a Chief Inspector Gamache novel / Louise Penny.

  Description: First Edition. | New York: Minotaur Books, 2019.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019012651 | ISBN 9781250066213 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250265074 (signed) | ISBN 9781250257833 (international, sold outside the U.S., subject to rights availability) | ISBN 9781466873711 (ebook)

  Classification: LCC PR9199.4.P464 B48 2019 | DDC 813/.6—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019012651

  eISBN 9781466873711

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First U.S. Edition: August 2019

  First I
nternational Edition: August 2019

 

 

 

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