‘Would you show us?’ It was the first time Gamache had spoken since they’d sat down. Now he looked at Em warmly and she smiled back, inclining her head.

‘How is tomorrow morning?’

‘Perfect,’ said Gamache.

‘Can you describe what was happening up to and including when you realized something was wrong?’ Beauvoir turned back to Émilie. Might as well try the sane one.

‘We’d been curling for almost an hour. It was a funspiel, so it was shorter than regular games, and being outside we didn’t want everyone to get too cold.’

‘Didn’t work. It was freezing. Coldest I remember,’ said Kaye.

‘We were losing, as usual,’ Em continued. ‘At some point I realized the other team had put a whole lot of rocks in the house.’

Seeing Beauvoir’s expression she explained. ‘The house is the bull’s-eye, those red rings painted on the ice. That’s where you want your rocks to end up. The other team had done a good job and the house was full of their stones. So I asked Mother to do what’s called “clearing the house”.’

‘I wind up and toss my stone down the ice.’ Mother stood up and moved her right arm out in front of her, then swung it behind her, then in one fast movement brought it down and out in front again, pantomiming a pendulum swinging. ‘The stone shoots down the ice and hits as many of the rocks out of the house as possible.’

‘It sounds like doing the break in pool,’ said Beauvoir and realized by their faces that made about as much sense to them as ‘clearing the house’ had to him.

‘It’s a lot of fun,’ said Mother.

‘In fact,’ added Em, ‘it’s so much fun it’s become a tradition at the Boxing Day funspiel. I’m convinced most people go just to see Mother clear the house.’

‘It’s very dramatic, rocks banging everywhere,’ said Mother.

‘Noisy,’ said Kaye.

‘It normally signals the end of the match. After that we give up,’ said Em. ‘Then we all go back to the Legion for a hot buttered rum.’

‘Except yesterday,’ said Beauvoir. ‘What happened yesterday?’

‘I didn’t know there was any problem until everyone started running toward where Kaye and CC de Poitiers were,’ said Mother.

‘Neither did I,’ said Em. ‘I was watching Mother’s stone. Everyone was. Then there was a huge cheer, but that suddenly stopped. I thought—’

‘What did you think, madame?’ Gamache asked, seeing her stricken face.

‘She thought I’d keeled over,’ said Kaye. ‘Didn’t you?’

Em nodded.

‘No such luck. She’ll outlive us all,’ said Mother. ‘She’s a hundred and forty-five years old already.’

‘That’s my IQ,’ said Kaye. ‘I’m actually ninety-two. Mother’s seventy-eight. You don’t meet many people whose age is greater than their IQ.’