The Madness of Crowds
- Автор: Пенни Луиза
- Серия: Chief Inspector Gamache #17
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: St. Martin's Publishing Group
- ISBN: 9781250145284
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «The Madness of Crowds». Краткое содержание книги:
You're a coward.
Time and again, as the New Year approaches, that charge is leveled against Armand Gamache.
It starts innocently enough.
While the residents of the Québec village of Three Pines take advantage of the deep snow to ski and toboggan, to drink hot chocolate in the bistro and share meals together, the Chief Inspector finds his holiday with his family interrupted by a simple request.
He's asked to provide security for what promises to be a non-event. A visiting professor of statistics will be giving a lecture at the nearby university.
While he is perplexed as to why the head of homicide for the Sûreté du Québec would be assigned this task, it sounds easy enough. That is, until Gamache starts looking into Professor Abigail Robinson and discovers an agenda so repulsive he begs the university to cancel the lecture.
They refuse, citing academic freedom, and accuse Gamache of censorship and intellectual cowardice. Before long, Professor Robinson's views start seeping into conversations. Spreading and infecting. So that truth and fact, reality and delusion, are so confused it's near impossible to tell them apart.
Discussions become debates, debates become arguments, which turn into fights. As sides are declared, a madness takes hold.
Abigail Robinson promises that if they follow her, ça va bien aller. All will be well. But not, Gamache and his team know, for everyone.
When a murder is committed, it falls to Armand Gamache, his second-in-command Jean-Guy Beauvoir, and their team to investigate the crime as well as this extraordinary popular delusion.
And the madness of crowds.
He paused at the door as he put on his gloves and looked at her. She obviously knew more than she let on.
“Non. Idola is the solace, the balm. The pain is making decisions like this.”
“I won’t ask where the pain is.”
He laughed. “Will you be there?”
“Moi? Non. I’ll be hiding under the covers and not taking any calls. Listen, Armand, you and I both know this is moot. Professor Robinson will give her talk tomorrow, but it’ll be to an empty auditorium. And that’ll be the end of it.”
She leaned forward and kissed him on both cheeks.
“Joyeux Noël. Bonne année. Give my love to Reine-Marie.”
“And to you, Colette, and Jean-Paul.”
As he walked back down the path to the car, Armand turned and noticed the pages still plastered in the front window of the Chancellor’s home. On the paper were rainbows, probably drawn by the grandchildren during the pandemic, with the words in crayon, Ça va bien aller.
He turned away, his face grave. All will be well. It depended, he knew, on what “well” meant. And he had a sinking feeling he and the Chancellor had two different ideas on that.
Colette Roberge pulled her cardigan tighter and watched as the Chief Inspector drove away.
Just then she heard young voices raised in shouts and heated arguments as her grandchildren returned with their friends.
Doors banged, cold air blew in. Thuds were heard as winter boots were kicked off and skates tossed into corners.
“Hot chocolate?” she asked.
“Yes, please, Granny.”
Even those not related to her called her Granny. In fact, Colette knew that some of her colleagues and even the Premier Ministre du Québec called her Grand-mère.
It was, she’d decided, both a term of endearment and an advantage. They were far less likely to be guarded around their grandmother.
She stirred the pot of cocoa and watched her husband in the corner, where he’d been all morning, lost in his jigsaw. While life swirled, unnoticed, around him.
That night, as he sat in his study with Jean-Guy, Armand leaned forward and clicked play on his laptop. They watched as Abigail Robinson, the nice woman on the screen, began talking.
Twelve minutes later Jean-Guy reached over and hit pause.
“Is she saying what I think she is?”
Armand nodded.
“Fuck,” whispered Jean-Guy. His eyes shifted from the computer to his father-in-law. “And you’re going to protect her?”
“Someone has to.”
“Did you know what she was saying when you agreed?”
“Non.”
“Did you know what she was saying when you told me you didn’t need me there?”
“Non.”
They held each other’s eyes. Jean-Guy’s complexion had gone from a rosy glow to a flush. The seeds of anger sown.
“I’m going upstairs,” said Jean-Guy.
“I’ll come with you.”
Armand turned off the Christmas tree. In the darkness he could see the three great pine trees anchoring the village green. Their multicolored Christmas lights glowed red, blue, and green under the weight of snow on their boughs.
Henri and Fred slowly followed them up the stairs. Gracie was already asleep in Stephen’s room.
Armand kissed Florence and Zora good night, then went next door, where Jean-Guy was staring down at his daughter. A cold wind puffed out the curtains, dropping the temperature in the room. As though something nasty were approaching.
Armand lowered the window until it was open just a crack, then pulled the blankets up over Honoré. Somehow he’d managed to sneak his new toboggan into the bed. Kissing the child, Armand then joined his son-in-law.
Little Idola was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the forces gathering around her.
Jean-Guy raised his eyes. “I know you’ve brought Isabelle in to help with tomorrow’s event, and others from the department. I want to be there too.”
“It’s not a good idea, and you know it.”
“If I’m not there on your team, I’ll be there as a spectator. Either way, I’m going.”
Armand saw that the seeds had taken root. “I’ll let you know in the morning.”
Later that night, Jean-Guy went down to the living room and sat in the armchair by the fire, now just embers. He found the video Armand had shown him and this time watched it all the way through.
He now understood why Armand had gone to the Chancellor and asked her, probably pleaded with her, to stop the event.
And he knew why his father-in-law did not want him anywhere close to this woman.
CHAPTER 5
“Professor Robinson? I’m Chief Inspector Gamache of the Sûreté.” He couldn’t avoid speaking with her any longer. “Are you ready to go on?”
Abigail Robinson looked at the man who’d just approached her.
Though they hadn’t yet met, Debbie had pointed him out as the officer in charge. Though she needn’t have. His authority was obvious.
He wasn’t in uniform, instead he wore a jacket and tie. Good material, well cut.
While not classically handsome, there was something compelling about him. Perhaps it was his calm. But what was most noticeable, now that he was standing right in front of her, were his eyes.
They were deep brown and clear. Alert, as she’d expect. He was assigned to security, he should be alert.
There was intelligence there, but it went beyond that. His gaze was thoughtful.
Here was someone who would consider before he acted. It was rare, she knew, to have some space between thought and action. Most people didn’t. They thought they did, but most acted on impulse, even instinct, then justified it.
Professor Robinson knew that that gap, that pause, meant the person had control over their actions. Had choices. And with those choices came power.
This man had choices, and power. And right now, he was choosing to be civil. He tried to hide his dislike for her behind a naturally gracious manner, but she could see it in his thoughtful eyes. He thought very little of her.
“Professor?” he repeated. “It’s just after four. The auditorium is full. It’s best if you start as soon as possible.”
She could hear a rumble behind the thick curtains. It sounded like a large freight train bearing down. The place had begun to shudder slightly, from excitement, impatience, and anticipation. It was the sound of hundreds of people. Waiting. For her.
He held his arm out, trying to shepherd her forward. But her assistant stepped between them.
“Do you have everything you need, Abby?” She looked around. “Is there water on the podium? You have your notes?”
“I have everything, Debbie, thank you.”
Gamache could see that, beyond being employer and employee, they were also friends.
Professor Robinson turned back to him. Had he not known better, had he not seen the videos of previous events, he’d think by the look in her eyes that she was a nice person.
But he did know better. And what he knew was that her eyes did not reflect what was going on in her mind or what was about to come out of her mouth.
Though there was another possibility.
That Abigail Robinson believed that what she was advocating was reasonable, even noble. Not an act of obscene cruelty, but kindness.
“Is something wrong?” Isabelle Lacoste asked into his earpiece, her voice slightly higher than usual. “Is she going to start?”
He could hear the noise beyond the curtain getting louder.
“Oui,” he said, then turned to Robinson. “If you don’t mind, it would be best if you went on. Does someone introduce you?”