“And I’m just wondering why you’re so interested,” she said. “In the gun.”
“Then we’re even, madame.” He sat back, crossing his legs. Settling in. “You know more about the Supergun than you’ve told us so far. I’d like to hear it.”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
“Because you’re afraid, and you need all the allies you can get.”
“I’m not afraid.” She also sat back, wriggling a bit into the soft corner of the large chair. As a small creature might in a warm den.
“You should be afraid. Someone’s found Bull’s gun and is almost certainly looking for the plans,” said Armand. “You’re afraid they’ve already been found.”
“They haven’t been.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s been three days since the gun was found. If the plans had been there, the killer would have started sending out feelers, looking for buyers. Setting up an auction.”
“How do you know he hasn’t?”
It was just the two of them and the real Mary Fraser was beginning to appear, seeping out from the ladder in the stocking, the undyed roots of her hair, the clotted mascara. The file clerk was receding. But then, the real Armand Gamache was also appearing. The kindly retired cop was receding.
She gave him a patient smile. “We know.”
“You don’t know everything. You didn’t know about the gun.” But even as he said it he wondered if that was true.
“We knew Dr. Bull was working on it, of course, but not that he’d actually built it. That came as a surprise.”
“An unpleasant one, I’m guessing.”
“Well, not necessarily. After all, we now have the world’s only Supergun. It might come in handy.”
“Until another one’s built,” said Gamache. “Where are the plans?”
“Nowhere. They were destroyed by Gerald Bull.”
“Then why are you so worried?”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you still here?” he asked.
She had nothing to say to that.
“And why are you reading a file on Dr. Bull?”
Her hand splayed further, to better conceal the cover.
“You’re not a fool, Madame Fraser, so why are you pretending to be?”
“Am I?”
“Word is spreading about the Supergun. The villagers now know, and while they’ve been asked to keep it quiet, it’s just a matter of time before it breaks out of this valley. And then journalists, gawkers, other scientists will arrive. And who knows who else might come out of the shadows. Come looking. Time is not on your side.”
“It wasn’t ‘someone’ who leaked the news, Monsieur Gamache. It was Isabelle Lacoste.”
Gamache sat absolutely still. Trying not to give anything away. Not a word, an expression, a twitch.
“That was foolish of her,” said Mary Fraser. “She has no idea the world she’s entered, and neither do you. You think you do, but you don’t. There are no rules, monsieur. No laws. No gravity. Nothing binding us, holding us down or back.”
“I thought you were a file clerk.”
She looked at the manila folder on her lap. “I am. And what are files? They’re information. Knowledge. And what is knowledge?”
He didn’t need to answer that, and neither did she.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “Why you?”
“Be careful” was all she would say.
“Did you know Gerald Bull?” Gamache asked. “Did CSIS kill him?”
There was silence. He leaned forward and looked into the bland, unremarkable face.
“Did you?” he asked.
“You have not been careful, Monsieur Gamache.”
He got up and bowed slightly. She remained where she was. But as he leaned toward her she whispered, “Don’t think it’s escaped our notice how strange it is that a senior officer would take early retirement in the middle of nowhere, and shortly afterward Project Babylon is found.”
Gamache straightened up, genuinely surprised. But the real surprise came next. Standing up and facing him, Mary Fraser’s soft face became rigid.
“And don’t think it’s escaped our notice that a grown man claims to have been friends with a nine-year-old boy. You are either a pervert or you wanted something from that poor child. And I will find out which. I have my eye on you.”
Gamache knew his mouth had just opened slightly, but he couldn’t help it.