‘Oh, yeah,’ said Clara, ‘Mother’s tea. It’s some herbal brew. Disgusting. I don’t mind tea,’ Clara raised her mug to them, ‘even tisane, but I hate to think what goes into the one Mother offers each year. She’s kind of amazing. No one ever takes it and yet she keeps on trying.’

There’s a fine line between noble perseverance and insanity, reflected Gamache. ‘Were Madame de Poitiers and her family there?’

‘I don’t really know,’ said Clara after a moment’s thought. ‘We were cooking the whole time so we didn’t get a chance to look out.’

‘Did anything unusual happen at the breakfast?’ Gamache asked.

Peter and Clara thought about it then shook their heads.

‘Peter was curling on Em’s team this year, for the first time, so he left early.’

‘By the time I got outside Em and Mother were already at the lake. It’s just down the road then off to the right. It’s about a five-minute walk from the Legion.’

‘And your team didn’t wait for you?’

‘Well, Georges did. He was the other man on our team. This was his first year curling as well.’

‘Georges who?’

‘Simenon,’ said Peter and smiled at Gamache’s raised brow. ‘I know. His mother was cursed with the pleasure of reading.’

‘And cursed her son,’ said Gamache.

‘Georges and I walked over to Lac Brume and found Em and Mother there. Billy Williams had already cleared the ice surface so we could curl and he’d put up the bleachers a few days before Christmas.’

‘The ice was frozen enough?’

‘Oh, long ago. Besides, it’s close to shore and I think Billy uses his auger to check the ice thickness. He’s a very prudent man is our Billy.’

‘What else did you notice at the lake?’

Peter cast his mind back. He remembered standing at the side of the road looking over the small incline down to the snow-covered lake. Mother and Bea were over by their chairs.

‘Chairs,’ said Peter. ‘Mother, Em and Kaye always bring chairs to sit close to the heat lamp.’

‘How many chairs were there this morning?’ Gamache asked.

‘Three. Two were close to the heat lamp, the other was a little way ahead.’

‘So what happened?’ Gamache leaned forward, cradling the warm mug in his large hands, his eyes lively and alert.

‘Everyone seemed to arrive at once,’ said Peter. ‘Em and Mother had been sitting on their chairs when Georges and I joined them. We talked strategy for a while then the other team arrived and soon it seemed the bleachers were full.’

‘I got there just as the curling started,’ said Clara.

‘Where did you sit?’

‘In the stands, between Myrna and Olivier.’

‘And where was CC?’

‘In one of the chairs by the lamp.’ Clara smiled very slightly.

‘What is it?’ Gamache asked.