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Chapters (43)
  1. A Fatal Grace
  2. ALSO BY LOUISE PENNY
  3. A Fatal Grace
  4. CONTENTS
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. THIRTY-SEVEN
  42. THIRTY-EIGHT
  43. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

‘And I miss you, dear heart. And yes, Armand, you did the right thing. But I understand your doubts. They’re what make you a great man, not your certainties.’

‘Fucking Thomas. Did you see that?’ Beauvoir was standing in front of the television, his hands on either side of his head, looking round. ‘Trade him!’ he shouted at the screen.

‘Now, who’d you rather be tonight?’ Reine-Marie asked. ‘Armand Gamache or Carl Thomas?’

Gamache laughed. It wasn’t often he let his doubts wash over him, but they had that night.

‘The Arnot case isn’t over, is it?’ said Reine-Marie.

Agent Nichol came down the staircase and caught his eye, smiling. She nodded then joined the group, who were too preoccupied to notice.

‘Non, ce n’est pas fini.’

imageTHIRTY-SIX image

One by one the lights went out in the homes of Three Pines and eventually the huge Christmas tree went out as well, and then the village was in darkness. Gamache got out of his chair. He’d turned the lights out in the living room after everyone had gone to bed, and had sat there quietly, enjoying the peace, enjoying watching the village put its head to the pillow. He quietly put on his coat and boots and went outside, his feet munching the snow. Émilie Longpré had said Environment Canada had issued a storm warning for the next day, but it was hard to believe. He walked to the middle of the road.

All was silent. All was bright. He tilted his head to stare at the stars. The entire sky was brilliant with them. He thought perhaps this was his favorite part of the day. Standing under a winter’s sky, the stars looking as though God had stopped a storm and the millions of flakes were suspended in the air. Bright and cheerful.

He didn’t feel like walking, had no need to pace. He had his answers. He’d just come out to be with himself in the middle of Three Pines, in the middle of the night. So at peace.

They woke up next morning to a storm. From his bed Gamache could see it. Or, more precisely, he could see nothing. Snow had plastered itself against his window and even created a small drift on the wood floor where flakes had rushed through the open window and landed in the room. The room was freezing and dark. And silent. Totally silent. He noticed his alarm clock was off. He tried a light.

Nothing.