4.5★
“But he noticed as he followed Gamache, that the Chief Inspector was not carrying a weapon.
He wondered if he should say something. Remind him that drug dealers were dangerous. But then he remembered who this man was and what he’d seen. And what he’d done.
Chief Inspector Gamache did not need to be schooled. He was the principal.”
How the mighty fall. Once the head honcho of all of the force, Armand Gamache has been cut down to size after a daring operation that put drugs out onto the street (for a good reason, but incredibly risky), and while they have now cleaned up the crims in the service, they thought he went too far. Offered his old, much lower position, they were surprised when he accepted.
Now he answers to his son-in-law, Jean-Guy Beauvoir, who’s about to quit the Sûreté du Quebec and move with his young family to Paris. Meanwhile, both men carry the title of Chief Inspector and call each other ‘Patron’, or ‘boss’, from time to time.
“Homer had sat in the outer office, listening, while Gamache met with a fellow named Jean-Guy something.
The young fellow was obviously another cop. Senior, it seemed. Gamache’s equal? At times it seemed so. His superior? At times it seemed so. His subordinate? At times it seemed so.”
Homer is the father of a young woman who has been reported missing right in the middle of an enormous flood that is threatening Three Pines and Montreal. It’s April, and the winter ice is cracking and breaking up suddenly, sending enormous chunks of ice and debris down the Bella Bella River. The powers-that-be in Montreal are discussing the best ways to deal with it, and Gamache has to be careful how he offers suggestions. The decisions aren’t his to make anymore.
“A sudden catastrophic event, natural or otherwise, brought with it turmoil. Places so pastoral and pretty one minute became war zones the next.
A populace unused to these sudden emergencies needed to be rallied and directed. And kept calm.
It was vital to take control.
Gamache tried to stop his mind from going there. And his hand from reaching for his phone to call Emergency Management. Call his successor at the Sûreté. Call the Premier Ministre. And tell them what to do.
Instead he took a deep breath and forced himself to sit back in the passenger seat.”
He and his beloved wife, Reine-Marie, now live in Three Pines, the little village that isn’t on any map but that all readers of this series know and love. We enjoy going back there for the food, the bistro, and the residents. Some are charming and/or quirky. Some are prickly, but all are accepted as part of the community. We know we’ll be cold if we visit in winter.
“Somehow, having survived another bitterly cold Canadian winter, early spring always got them. It was the damp. And the temperature swings. And the illusion and delusion that it must be milder out, surely, by now.
The forest beyond stood like an army of winter wraiths, skeleton arms dangling, limbs clacking together in the breeze.”
Now the villagers are bracing for the worst.
“And with the water rising, decision had to be made.
They’d run out of sandbags two hours earlier. Then villagers had begun bringing pillowcases and feed bags, garbage bags. Anything that could hold sand.
And then they’d run out of sand.
And then they’d run out of light.
And then they’d run out of steam.
And still the rain kept coming. Changing to ice pellets, then freezing rain, then back to rain.”
Those are the circumstances, but during all of that, the officers are following up on the missing woman with the abusive husband and the distraught father who keeps threatening to take matters into his own hands.
There’s plenty of action and many flashbacks to past cases, especially the ones where agents were killed, and Gamache took the blame. One young woman he’d brought into the force, which surprised a lot of people, has become a valuable member of the team – and he’d nearly lost her.
“. . . And saw, yet again, Isabelle Lacoste crumple to the floor. Shot. Her last act had saved all their lives. She’d done it knowing full well it would cost her her own.
Fortunately, she didn’t remember it, so great was the trauma.
And Gamache could never forget, so great was the trauma.
But she’d recovered. Fought her way back, one excruciating step at a time.
Things are strongest where they’re broken. If ever there was a person who proved that, it was Isabelle Lacoste.”
I enjoyed seeing them all back together again.
“‘Does that remind you of anything?’ Olivier asked.
. . .
Reine-Marie cocked her head, staring. And then she gave a short puff of amusement and recognition.
Isabelle. Jean-Guy. Armand.
Three colleagues.
Three friends. A trinity. Sturdy. Eternal. Together.
‘Three Pines,’ she said.
‘Three Stooges,’ said Ruth as she walked by and entered the bistro.”
Ah, Ruth. And Rosa her duck. Ruth, the old poet, is as cranky and troublesome and insulting as ever. There’s a side story of Clara, suffering from criticism for her new art style, and Ruth revels in reading out all the negative tweets. She’s also a source of some of the trademark humour, too.
I think the writing style is choppier than before, with many short phrases used for emphasis. But there are the much loved lyrical passages that fans have come to expect so we can experience the weather and the season for ourselves. This opens in the freezing slush of April, with the icy floods, and ends with a bit of milder weather and early blooms.
I am relieved to know that I can still make at least two more trips to Three Pines, but I hope Louise Penny will keep writing more.