“The painkillers. Why’re you still taking them?” There was silence in the car as Québec whizzed by their windows. “How’d you know about that?” asked Beauvoir, finally. “I suspected. You carry them with you, in your jacket pocket.” “Did you look?” asked Beauvoir, an edge to his voice. “No. But I’ve watched you.” As he did now. His second in command had always been so lithe, so energetic. Cocky. He was full of life and full of himself. It could annoy Gamache. But mostly he’d watched Beauvoir’s vitality with pleasure and some amusement, as Jean-Guy threw himself headlong into life. But now the
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