“No rush.”
* * *
“Something’s blocking the transmission,” said Professor Rosenblatt.
“What does that mean?” asked Gamache.
“It means your young agent might not even realize he’s not getting messages. All the bars would light up, everything would look normal, and is, but the messages wouldn’t be registering.”
“How do we get around it?” Lacoste asked.
“You can’t. It’s not a software issue,” said Rosenblatt. “It’s the hardware. He’d have to have one of their devices.”
“Call the SHU,” said Gamache. “Get him back.”
* * *
Cohen put the car in gear, but kept his foot on the brake.
His device was sitting in the cupholder.
“Let’s go,” said Fleming. “What’re you waiting for?”
Picking up his device, Cohen decided to call Chief Inspector Lacoste, to confirm. He punched her contact number and saw Dialing on the screen.
And then the message Unable to Connect.
Of course, he thought. She’s in Three Pines. There’s no cell phone service.
“Come on,” said Fleming. “You’re wasting time. Your boss won’t like that.”
Cohen put his phone down and the car rolled forward. And stopped.
“Now what?”
Cohen picked up his device and called the landline in the Incident Room.
Dialing. Dialing.
Unable to Connect.
That was strange.
“Time’s a-wasting,” said Fleming. “Every moment counts. You know that.”
But his soft, flawed voice held an edge of anxiety.
Agent Cohen looked in the rearview mirror at the glowing eyes and eager, hungry face. Then he looked down at his device. All five bars were lit up. The network was connected. And yet there were no messages. None at all. From anyone, in over forty-five minutes.
And then he remembered his friend’s new device.
With hands that trembled so badly he almost dropped the phone, he punched into the utilities mode, took out the penitentiary code, put in his own, and the device started lighting up.
It vibrated, the red light flashed. And it started ringing.
In the backseat, John Fleming saw this and started pulling, yanking, on the chains binding him to the vehicle.
* * *
The operator put Lacoste through to the guard room. The phone rang, and was picked up, just as her line indicated an incoming.
She hung up and clicked over and for a moment all she heard, loud enough so that Gamache, Beauvoir and even Professor Rosenblatt, sitting at the next desk, heard …
A shriek.
Gamache’s face went white and his eyes widened, as the ungodly noise filled the Incident Room.
“Chief?”
They heard the young voice, straining to be heard over the scream.
“Is that you?” Cohen yelled.
“Where are you?” Lacoste shouted.
“I can’t hear you. I have Fleming.”
“Take him back,” yelled Lacoste. “We have the plans. Take him back.”
All they heard now was the shriek. And then it descended into a growl.
Some rough beast.
“Adam?” Gamache leaned into the phone, shouting, “Can you hear me?”
And then …
“I hear you, Monsieur Gamache,” shouted Adam Cohen. “He’s going back.”
CHAPTER 42
“What’ll happen to the Supergun?” Reine-Marie asked. “Now that the plans are gone.”
They were gathered in the bistro, the Gamaches, Lacoste, Jean-Guy, Clara, Myrna, Brian, Ruth and Monsieur Béliveau. Professor Rosenblatt was sitting in a comfortable armchair, nursing a large cognac.
Olivier had locked the door, apologizing to his other patrons, “Désolé, but this is a private gathering.”
The sun had long ago set, the night had drawn in. They sat around the fireplace, their faces lit by the glow.
“It’ll be taken apart, and taken away,” said Chief Inspector Lacoste.
“To be reassembled somewhere else?” Monsieur Béliveau asked.
“Maybe,” said Gamache. “But with the plans gone, well, they’ll have quite a time of it. And unfortunately the firing mechanism seems to be missing again.”
Beauvoir and Lacoste looked at him, then looked away.
“The firing mechanism’s missing?” asked Brian. “Where’d it go?”
“I have no idea,” said Armand with a smile.
