Chapters (43)
- A Fatal Grace
- ALSO BY LOUISE PENNY
- A Fatal Grace
- CONTENTS
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
‘You’re right. This one was propane once too,’ he said. ‘But it broke and was going to be thrown away when Billy Williams saved it. Knew he could wire it up and it would work well enough for the once-a-year curling extravaganza. That was a couple of years ago. So far it’s held up. But he needs a generator to juice it up.’
‘Agent Lemieux here suggested a generator to me yesterday.’ Gamache nodded to Lemieux who sat up a little taller in his chair. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t take the suggestion seriously. I’m sorry.’
Lemieux had never had a superior apologize to him. He didn’t know what to do, so he did nothing.
‘Was Mr Williams’s generator powerful enough to kill?’ Gamache asked.
‘That’s the question. The other stop I made yesterday was to the Cowansville hospital to speak to the coroner, Dr Harris. She gave me the autopsy report. She knows Williams and says his generator is powerful enough to do the job. In fact, it doesn’t really take much.’ Beauvoir returned to his seat and ate the last bite of his doughnut while stirring his coffee with a pen. ‘She wants to speak to you, chief. Says she’ll be by later this morning with a more detailed report and the clothing the victim was wearing. But she made it clear this was no accident, in case any of you were wondering.’
Beauvoir looked down at his notes. He didn’t really know where to start. He certainly didn’t want to repeat that this was a bizarre, even possibly insane way to commit a murder. Chief Inspector Gamache already knew that. They all did. But Dr Sharon Harris had said it to him yesterday afternoon several times.
‘I don’t think you completely appreciate the situation, Inspector. Look at this.’ Dr Harris had taken the white sheet off the victim. There on the cold, hard gurney lay a cold, hard woman. She had a snarl on her face and Beauvoir wondered whether her family would recognize the look. Sharon Harris had spent a few minutes circling the woman, pointing out areas of interest like a necropolitan tour guide.
Now, in the morning briefing, he passed out more pictures, these ones taken by Dr Harris at the autopsy. The room grew silent as everyone went through them.