and through your own split head you rise up glowing;

Yvette Nichol.

Oh, dear.

I can't stand her.

It's like Armand Gamache has taken my four-year-old sibling on a murder investigation. Me, me, me. Where's my recognition. Why can't I do what I want. Oh-- wait! I made a mistake? Well, you can't blame me, I'm only a trainee.

Beauvior has a right to hate her. Someone this self centered should never have entered law enforcement, which is entirely about other people. Sometimes it's about helping other people, other times reading other people. But of course Nichol can't do either, she's still trying to grasp the idea that there are other people.

And they keep messing up her agenda to be the best and most renowned detective that was ever known. It's so unfair.

On the other hand, we have Gamache who practically is other people. He is watching their faces, sensing their intents, perceiving actions before the person them self is sure what they are doing. He is the ultimate detective because he is the ultimate watcher and listener.

All he wants to do is solve the crime-- with the help of his team of course. This is a man who recognizes the true important things in life. He touches other people, reaches out and stirs their emotions. He makes connections, forms relationships, and honestly, truly, surprisingly, cares.

When he needs them, these people will be there for him. They will be his friends. They will entrust him with secrets. They will unknowingly reveal important details to his intent listening. They will help him to solve a crime. After all, most premeditated crimes are committed by someone close to the victim.

Gamache has recruited a small army of people at his back, supplying him with information and support he needs. Nichol only has her own narrow viewpoint, and her lonely super-woman (scoff) self to rely on.