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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

‘You stink, love Ruth,’ Gamache repeated. ‘It’s an unusual inscription, even for you. Please think, Madame Zardo.’

‘I’ve no idea, and I’m late.’

She stepped off her porch and walked across the village green toward the lights of the village shops. But she stopped halfway, and sat down.

In the dark. In the cold. On a frozen bench in the middle of the green.

Lemieux was both impressed and amazed by the woman’s gall. She’d kicked them out claiming an appointment then brazenly sat on a bench to do absolutely nothing. It was clearly an insult. Lemieux turned to ask Gamache about it but the chief seemed lost in thought himself. Ruth Zardo was staring at the magnificent lighted trees and the one shining star, and Armand Gamache was staring at her.

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Lemieux had decided to jog ahead to their car, parked outside the Morrow home, and turn it on. They weren’t heading back yet, but night had fallen and the car would take a few minutes to warm up. If he started it now, by the time they got back in it would be toasty warm and the frosted windows would be clear, both advantages on a chilling December night.

‘I don’t get it, sir,’ he said as he returned to Gamache.

‘There’s a lot not to get,’ said Gamache with a smile. ‘What in particular is troubling you?’

‘This is my first murder case, as you know.’

‘I do.’

‘But it seems to me if you wanted to kill someone there are a whole lot of better ways.’

‘Like?’

‘Well, franchement, just about anything other than electrocuting a woman in the middle of a crowd on a frozen lake. It’s nuts.’

And that’s what worried Gamache. It was nuts.

‘I mean, why not shoot her, or strangle her? It’s Quebec in the middle of winter, why not take her for a drive and shove her out the car? We’d be using her as an ice sculpture in the Cowansville Fête des Neiges. It makes no sense.’

‘And that’s lesson number one.’ They were walking toward Olivier’s Bistro. Lemieux struggled to stay beside the large man as he strode with measured but long strides toward the brightly lit restaurant. ‘It makes sense.’

Gamache suddenly stopped and Lemieux had to twist out of the way to avoid ramming into him. The chief looked at the young agent seriously.