At the end of “Glass Houses,” Louise Penny’s previous Armand Gamache mystery novel, the detective in the tiny Quebecois village of Three Pines has made a controversial decision to allow the shipment of a dangerous new drug to come into Canada from the United States. Gamache did it in order to trap and catch the higher-up suppliers. He accomplished this, but the shipment entered the country. The drug, Carfentanil, is not yet on the market, but it’s just a matter of time, and many young people will die as a result.

For his breach of protocol, Gamache is on suspension as chief superintendent of the Surete de Quebec. His son-in-law, Jean-Guy Beauvoir, next in line on the force is now the acting head of homicide, and for the time being, Gamache is on his own. Still, Gamache remains a local celebrity:

“Some in the press held him up as a hero. Others as a villain. A man both highly respected and reviled….Representing the worst aspects of policing. Or the best. The abuse of power. Or a daring leader, willing to sacrifice his own reputation…for the greater good.”

Worst of all, however, Gamache has become a political scapegoat, but this is just background for the present tale. Beauvoir is now being pressured from the highest echelons to sign papers condemning his wife’s father. The younger man knows that once the Carfentanil hits the streets, both his and Gamache’s careers will come to an end. Further compromising Gamache’s credibility is the finding of drugs in the possession of a cadet named Amelie Choquet — a former street person whom Gamache had rehabilitated and brought into the police academy against the advice of the established cadre.

At the start of “Kingdom of the Blind,” we’re in the midst of a severe northern Quebec snowstorm. Gamache is searching out a deserted farmhouse to which he has been invited by a mysterious letter that ignited his curiosity. He finds “a crooked house” with a little “crooked man” inside. The man turns out to be a notary, but the greater surprise is the appearance of two unexpected invitees.

One is Gamache’s friend and neighbor, Myrna Landers, retired psychologist and owner of the local bookstore. The other is a young man named Benedict Pouliot, oddly dressed and self-described as a builder, although for the moment he is working as custodian living in the basement of a rundown apartment house. The notary informs all three that a woman named Bertha Baumgartner has died, and has named each of them in her will as a liquidator — the Canadian equivalent of our executor.

None of the three knew Bertha Baumgartner, nor have they any idea why she chose them to carry out her posthumous wishes. The deceased woman was a humble housekeeper in Three Pines, who called herself “the Baroness.” Her crooked house is literally falling down, and she had virtually no money at all, but her will includes wildly improbable legacies to each of her three children, adding up to $15 million. It would seem that the “baroness” was delusional.

Or was she? Her maiden name was Kinderoth, a possible equivalent for Rothschild, so perhaps Baumgartner’s “delusions” may have had a foundation in reality.

When, shortly after the reading of Baumgartner’s will, her oldest (and most successful) son is found murdered in his home, Gamache — and the police department — realize that the old woman has to be taken seriously. Almost everyone who knew her becomes a suspect: her children, along with the victim’s business associates and even the enigmatic young custodian who ended up on Baumgartner’s liquidator list.

Ms. Penny has a knack for creating far-fetched situations and making them believable. She also makes use of recurring characters in her fictional village, who may seem outlandish but contribute to the solving of the mystery.

In addition to the bookstore owner Myrna Landers, sometimes discriminated against for being overweight and black, there is the eccentric and outspoken old poetess Ruth who goes everywhere with her obnoxious pet duck. There’s the artist Clara, whose outwardly repulsive paintings, once laughed at, contain profound hidden messages and now command top dollar prices. Not to forget the genial gay couple Gabri and Olivier, who own a bed-and-breakfast along with the bistro that serves as a meeting place for the Three Pines locals.

Gamache’s disgrace, the story of the reviled cadet, and the central mystery of the will and the ensuing murder, are separate strands in what has become a complex ongoing saga, with the fictional town of Three Pines as important as any of the individual protagonists. By the conclusion of “Kingdom of the Blind,” the murderer is uncovered, but the story is not over, by any means. Wait anxiously for the next installment.

Robert Croan is a Pittsburgh Post-Gazette senior editor.

First Published: November 27, 2018, 1:00 p.m.