And his personal life, of which little was known.
“Both parents are dead. I spoke to his sister this morning,” said Gamache. “She lives in Chicoutimi. They weren’t close. She was shocked, of course, but I didn’t get the feeling Leduc’s death would leave a hole in her life.”
“No friends among the other professors?”
“Not that I could see. Serge Leduc was hierarchical. He would never think of socializing with lower ranks. Not unusual in closed communities,” said Gamache. “Where status is power and takes on an almost mystical quality.”
“Which would make you…?”
Gamache smiled thinly and chose not to step into that trap.
“Any special students?” Gélinas asked.
“By special, you mean did he have sex with any of the students? I hope not, but the truth is, I don’t know. I tried to take opportunities away by, among other things, stopping the practice of freshmen cadets bringing professors their meals in their rooms. That reinforces the power professors have over students. It can lead to abuse.”
“But you think he might have had affairs anyway?”
“He kept up the practice, despite my ban. And it wouldn’t have been an affair,” said Gamache. “That makes it sound consensual.”
“Well, at least they’d both be over sixteen.”
“Do you really think a freshman cadet is going to choose to have sex with Serge Leduc? If he was in any other position, they’d never give him another thought. Nor should they. No. If they had sex with him, or more accurately, he with them, they were forced. By their own fears and insecurities. Seduced by his promises and frightened by what would happen if they refused.”
“Motive for murder,” said Gélinas.
“It is a possibility.”
“So you do think a student could have done this?”
“They’re not children. And I’m sorry to say, even children kill. These are young men and women, more than capable of killing.”
“Killing, perhaps,” said Gélinas. “A police officer must be capable of it. But murder? We hope not.”
Gamache said nothing and Gélinas went back to reading, finally looking up and letting the dossier drift closed on his lap. He thought for a moment before speaking.
“Why didn’t you use this against him? There’re all sorts of allegations. Hidden bank accounts, contract fixing. Intimidation.”
“Allegations. But not enough proof,” said Gamache. “I needed hard evidence before taking a run at Serge Leduc.”
Gélinas looked down at the dossier. “I had no idea it was this bad. I was in Paris when the scandal in the Québec government and the S?reté broke. I followed it, of course. And heard the rumors even there about the academy. But didn’t know if they were true or the degree.” He shook his head. “A second scandal.”
“Non. Not a second. It’s all part of the same one. Where did the corrupt agents come from? Why did Chief Superintendent Francoeur transfer Leduc to the academy? Francoeur was the head of the S?reté, the architect of all that went wrong. He placed Leduc in the academy for a reason. What was happening in the school wasn’t a separate scandal but the necessary first step for all that happened later.”
“Did you know that when you took over?”
“I suspected. Ill-prepared, insolent young agents were showing up in the lowest ranks of the S?reté, and being promoted. One or two could be considered normal in a population, but there were too many. The academy had become a nursery, a factory, a training ground and a conduit for brutality. It created and fostered an environment where that sort of behavior was normal, valued and rewarded.”
“By Serge Leduc.”
Gamache nodded. “He was their first role model for what a S?reté agent should be. His nickname, you know, was the Duke.”
“Not exactly original. Leduc. The Duke.”
“But it was at least accurate,” said Gamache. “A pretender to the throne. A tyrant.”
“Then you show up, replace most of the professors with your own, make substantial changes. But you had to keep Leduc on, to get at the core of the problem. Did he know you were on to him?”
“Oui. I showed him the file.”
“You did what? Why?”
“To rattle him.”
Gélinas absorbed what he’d heard. “Did it work?”
Gamache opened his mouth, then closed it again. And finally he spoke. “How closely have you read that file?”
“Well, I’ve just skimmed it, but close enough to understand that Serge Leduc was on the take, at the very least.”
“Read it more closely, and then we’ll talk.”
“Can’t you just tell me?”
“No. I don’t want to impose my thoughts on you. I want to see if you come to the same conclusion. I could be wrong.”
While Gélinas reopened the file, Gamache drove, keeping his eyes on the road. Snow was drifting across the autoroute, leaving a thin layer beneath which there could be, he knew, ice.
Finally Gélinas looked up. There was silence for a moment as the RCMP officer thought.
“It doesn’t say this anywhere,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “But I don’t think Leduc could have done all this himself, with lower-level accomplices. There must’ve been someone else. Someone smarter. Someone higher up. Maybe someone on the outside. And that’s what you think too.”
Far from being pleased that Deputy Commissioner Gélinas had come to the same conclusion, Gamache looked grim.
“Someone removed,” Gélinas continued, “who could act without fear of being caught because no one would be looking in his direction.”
Gamache was nodding. It was his thinking exactly, though there was no proof.
“Judging by this”—Gélinas looked down at the file—“Leduc was nothing if not shrewd. He must’ve known once the mess at the S?reté was cleared up, the focus would turn to the academy. To him.” He looked at Gamache. “If you showed this to him, isn’t the wrong person dead?”
“You think it should have been me lying there?” asked Gamache.
“Don’t you? If what you’re describing is true, you were a threat. A man who’d already arrested or killed most of the others involved. From what I hear, those involved in the S?reté scandal weren’t just corrupt. They beat and murdered at will. You were a clear threat to Leduc and his accomplice. They were facing ruin. Prison.”
He looked at Gamache’s face in profile as he drove.
“If they’ve threatened and killed before, why stop at you?”
“They were weakened. Most of the agents they could count on for support and protection had been rooted out of the S?reté. No, I was never in danger. Murdering me would bring the full weight of scrutiny crashing down on them.”
“So you showed Leduc what you had,” said Gélinas, tapping the file. “To spook him. Did it work?”
“Perhaps better than I thought,” said Gamache.
“You think the accomplice killed Leduc? Because you were getting close?”
“It’s possible. Whoever the accomplice is, he must’ve worried that Leduc, when cornered, would try to cut a deal.”
“And so he shut him up. Then who is he? It would have to be someone in the academy now. One of the professors? Assuming for a moment it’s not you—”
“For a moment?”
“There is someone who fits. Michel Brébeuf.”
Gamache stared straight ahead. Then gave a curt nod.
Gélinas watched Gamache, the full implication dawning on him.
“You brought Brébeuf back. You put the two together, in the academy. Knowing that if Leduc was the Duke, Brébeuf was the king. You knew all this—”
“I suspected.”
“—and you did it anyway. What were you thinking, man? That’s lunacy.”
“It could prove to be.”
“What more proof do you need?” Gélinas all but shouted, then hauled himself back. “There’s been a murder in the S?reté Academy. Because you put two criminals together and gave them the run of the place—”
“That’s not true.”
“Near enough. You’re just lucky one of the students wasn’t hurt or killed.”
They’d turned in to the parking lot, but when Gamache switched off the car Gélinas didn’t move.
“Why did you leave the academy, Commander Gamache?”