How the Light Gets In
“Did you make your connection?” Thérèse Brunel asked as she joined him. She nodded toward the young agent.
Her husband and Nichol were squeezed under the desk, trying not to elbow each other. At least, Dr. Brunel was trying not to—it looked as though Agent Nichol was doing her best to shove her bony elbows into him whenever she could.
“I’m afraid not,” Gamache whispered.
“But you both made it back, Chief Inspector. That’s something.”
Gamache grinned, though without amusement. “Some victory. I didn’t gun down one of my own agents in cold blood.”
“Well, we take our victories where we can get them,” she smiled. “I’m not sure Jérôme would’ve passed up the chance.”
By now the two under the desk were openly elbowing each other.
The hole in the schoolhouse wall was completed and Gilles shoved the cable through. Jérôme grabbed it and pulled.
“I’ll take it.”
Before Jérôme knew it, Nichol had grabbed the cable from him and was attaching it to the first of the metal boxes.
“Wait.” He yanked it back. “You can’t connect it.” He gripped the cable in both hands and tried to bring his sudden panic under control.
“Of course I can.” She almost swiped it from him and might have, had Superintendent Brunel not cut in.
“Agent Nichol,” she commanded. “Get out from there.”
“But—”
“Do as you’re told,” she said, as though speaking to a willful child.
Both Jérôme and Nichol crawled out from under the desk, Jérôme still gripping the black cable. Behind them they could hear the hiss as Gilles, still outside, sprayed the hole he’d made with foam insulation.
“What’s the problem?” Gamache asked.
“We can’t connect it,” said Jérôme.
“Yes we ca—”
But the Chief raised his hand and cut Nichol off.
“Why not?” he asked Jérôme. They’d come so far. Why not the last few inches?
“Because we don’t know what’ll happen once we do.”
“Isn’t tha—”
But again, Nichol was cut off. She shut her mouth, but fumed.
“Why not?” Gamache asked again, his voice neutral, assessing the situation.
“I know it sounds overcautious, but once this is plugged in, we have the ability to connect to the world. But it also means the world can connect to us. This”—he held up the cable—“is a highway that goes in both directions.”
Agent Nichol looked like she was about to wet her pants.
Chief Inspector Gamache turned to her and nodded.
“But the power isn’t on.” The dam broke and the words rushed from her. “That might as well be rope for all the connecting it’ll do. We have to attach it to the computers and we have to turn the power on. We have to make sure it works. Why wait?”
Gamache felt a chill on his neck and turned to see Gilles walking into the tense atmosphere. He shut the door, took off his tuque and mitts and coat, and sat by the door as though guarding it.
Gamache turned to Thérèse.
“What do you think?”
“We should wait.” On seeing Nichol open her mouth again, Thérèse headed off any comment. Looking directly at the young agent she spoke. “You’ve just arrived, but we’ve been living with this for weeks, months. We’ve risked our careers, our friendships, our homes, perhaps even more. If my husband says we pause, then we pause. Do you understand?”
Nichol gave in with bad grace.
As they left, Gamache turned the key in the Yale lock and put it in his breast pocket. Gilles joined him for the short walk through the dark, back to Emilie’s home.
“You know that young woman’s right?” Gilles said, his voice low and his eyes on the snowy ground.
“We need to test it?” said Gamache, also in a whisper. “Oui, I know.”
He watched Nichol, up ahead, and behind her Jérôme and Thérèse.
And he wondered what Jérôme was really afraid of.
* * *
After a dinner of beef stew, they took their coffees into the living room, where a fire had been laid.
Thérèse put a match to the newspaper and watched it flare and burn bright. Then she turned to the room. Gamache and Gilles sat together on one of the sofas and Jérôme sat across from them. Nichol was in the corner, working on a jigsaw puzzle.