The Nature of the Beast: A Chief Inspector Gamache Novel

Professor Rosenblatt studied him to see if there was any other agenda, anything else behind the exact words Gamache had just chosen. But there didn’t seem to be.

“True. But he was also a classicist. A man who loved music and art and history. Dr. Bull knew perfectly well what he was building. Stories circulated within the armaments community that he’d not only built the Supergun, but carved a seven-headed beast on it, as a reference to the Book of Revelation.”

He looked at them. Isabelle Lacoste was thinking, trying to remember her Bible classes as a child. Beauvoir shook his head impatiently. And Gamache just stared in a way the professor found disconcerting.

“The Whore of Babylon?” said Rosenblatt.

“Just tell us,” said Beauvoir, his patience at an end.

The professor took out his iPhone, punched at the screen, then put it on the table. Beside the golden madeleines glowed the image of a monster rearing up with seven heads on long serpentine necks springing from the body.

And riding the monster was a woman, not looking out to where the beast was taking her, but staring back at whoever was staring at her.

“Who’s the Whore of Babylon supposed to be?” Beauvoir demanded.

Professor Rosenblatt was about to answer, but then turned to Gamache. “I think you know.”

Gamache hadn’t taken his eyes off the image. “The Antichrist.”

Beauvoir sputtered in amusement. “Oh, come on,” he said, his handsome lean face breaking into deep lines of laughter. “Really?”

He looked at them, his eyes finally resting on the elderly scientist.

“Are you seriously saying that thing in the forest is the devil?”

“I’m not saying that, but you asked about the Whore of Babylon and that’s the answer. You can look it up yourselves or ask any biblical scholar. There’re all sorts of interpretations about what the beast and the seven heads represent, but most come to the same conclusion. She’s heading for Armageddon.”

“As was Gerald Bull,” said Lacoste. “In building the Supergun he was courting the end of the world.”

“Well now,” said Rosenblatt. He looked down at his feet, then up at her. “The community is divided on that. Many, probably most, think Dr. Bull was a mercenary. An arms dealer. A one-stop shop. He’d design, build and sell any weapon to the highest bidder.”

“And the others?” asked Gamache. “The minority?”

“They think Dr. Bull was a hero. That he was very clear about why he was building the Supergun, and who he was making it for. They believe he carved the beast on it as a sort of gesture. Like pilots in the Second World War often painted frightening images on their planes.”

“He called it Project Babylon,” said Gamache. “Why?”

“Who was the devil in the late 1980s?” Rosenblatt asked.

“The Soviet Union,” said Lacoste, remembering her history.

“The Cold War was waning,” said Gamache. “Yeltsin and President Gorbachev were bringing in glasnost.”

“Exactly,” said Rosenblatt. “But there was someone else. An ally who was fast becoming an enemy. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, to use another biblical image.”

“Babylon?” said Gamache. “Are you saying Gerald Bull built that thing for Saddam Hussein?”

He didn’t even try to keep the incredulity out of his voice, and he could only imagine the look on Jean-Guy’s face.

“You don’t believe it?” asked Professor Rosenblatt. The words fell into the silence in the room and drifted into the fireplace, to be burned.

“Would you?” asked Isabelle Lacoste, regarding the elderly man and wondering just how crazy he might be. The gun itself was hard enough to swallow, but she could at least see it, touch it. She knew it was real. But this was a step too far.

“I don’t suppose it really matters if you believe it or not,” said Rosenblatt, gathering up his papers. “You asked me here to tell you what I know. That’s what I know.”

He got up and Gamache rose with him.

“You didn’t believe the boy either,” said Rosenblatt quietly. “And look what happened.”

Gamache felt himself go numb, for a moment. As though the life had been snuffed out of him. And then he took a breath and sat back down.

“Please,” he said, indicating the seat beside him. Professor Rosenblatt hesitated, then took his seat again. “Tell us what you know about Project Babylon and Gerald Bull.”

Professor Rosenblatt looked at them, still seeing disbelief, but now also seeing a willingness to try. To be open to the possibility that what he was about to tell them was the truth.

“It was no secret that Saddam wanted to destroy Israel,” said Rosenblatt. “And start a full-scale war. He wanted to control the whole region.”

Gamache nodded, remembering the late 1980s, early nineties. To Beauvoir and Lacoste it was history. To him, and Rosenblatt, it was a memory.

“To be fair, there are all sorts of theories about Project Babylon,” said Rosenblatt. “Some more outlandish than others.”