Forty Words for Sorrow

She followed him down to the basement, the same clubby room where it had all begun. The cover had been removed from what she had taken to be a billiard table. On it tiny soldiers in uniforms of red and blue did battle along the steep bank of a papier-mвchй river. Delorme had interrupted the chief in the pursuit of his passion, building recreations of famous battles in fanatical detail, and he was not about to abandon it for the sake of an unmannerly visit.

"Plains of Abraham?" Delorme asked, trying to ease her way in.

"Just get to it, Detective. General Montcalme is beyond your help."

"Sir, I've been combing the files for anything about Cardinal. Going over old cases of his, notes and everything."

"I assume you've discovered something sensational in those files or you wouldn't be breaking every rule of protocol, not to mention common courtesy, by showing up at my home unannounced."

"No, sir. The thing is, the files aren't going to lead anywhere. I'm just running in circles, and it's getting in the way of Pine-Curry."

"Look at this." The chief held out a smooth hand, palm up. A tiny cannon nestled in his palm. "Exactly to scale. There are twelve of them I have to fix into fittings that are barely visible to the naked eye."

"Incredible." Delorme responded with all the energy she could muster, but she could hear it wasn't enough.

"The files are important. A jury will expect a pattern of behavior."

"Sir, that will take forever, and it will all be old stuff impossible to prove."

"You have the Florida condo. You have the boat receipt."

"Dyson told you about those already?"

"He did. I asked to be kept closely informed."

"The receipt doesn't have Cardinal's name on it, sir." She had been about to tell him about Sergeant Langois, but no, better to wait and see what he might turn up down in Florida. "I've already contacted his American bank, but they're not exactly rushing to cooperate. What we need is something totally convincing. Something from right now. Something plain and simple."

"Naturally. If you want to ask your partner for a signed confession, go ahead. I don't expect you'll see a lot of success." He turned to her, a miniature tube of glue in his hand. "Or were you intending to interview Kyle Corbett on the subject? Excuse me, Mr. Corbett, is one of our detectives supplying you with confidential information? Gee, no, Officer, I have far too much respect for the law."

The chief was not by nature a sarcastic man. Delorme braced herself for one of his famous explosions, then plunged on. "Sir, I have an idea."

"Please. Enlighten me."

"What we do is we plant some information with Cardinal that he's sure to pass along- if he's really working for Corbett, that is. Something he'll have to let him know. Musgrave's crew will tap his phone and keep him under surveillance."

Kendall regarded her coolly, then turned back to his model, a tiny soldier pinched between thumb and forefinger. "I'll say one thing, Detective. You've got nerve."

"Sir, I think this could clear the air relatively-"

The chief cut her off with a wave of the hand. "I'm rather surprised that you're seriously- you are serious, aren't you? Yes, I can see you are- proposing to wiretap your own partner."

"With respect, sir. You're the one who assigned me to investigate him. Well, you and Dyson. If you want me to stop, I'd be happy to stop anytime."

"You see this?" Kendall pointed to a frigate parked in the midnight-blue St. Lawrence. "This assembly here, with the mainmast and stays? Just that part of this project took a week to put together."

"Incredible."

"Sometimes making a thing convincing takes a little time, Sergeant Delorme. A little patience. I hope you're not entirely lacking in that quality."

"My plan is better than thumbing through those endless files. If you look at it objectively, sir, I think you'll agree."

"I am. Hand me the little silver tube, would you? Thank you." Using the point of a pin, the chief dabbed a trace of glue onto a cannonball the size of a bug's eye, and set it onto a tiny stack. "You're still intent on leaving Special Investigations, I suppose. Hate to lose someone with a record like yours."

"Well, Chief, you're not losing me. I'm just moving over into CID."

"I know, I know. But Special Investigations- one could make the case that it's the most important part of the department. Take away Special Investigations, you've got a brain, certainly- all the motor functions are intact- but without Special Investigations, you've got a brain without a conscience. And that, my young friend, is a dangerous thing."

Delorme tucked away that young somewhere warm for later examination. "Sir, if we give him something no one else knows- even if we don't get him on the tap- we'll know he's the guy."