Had this woman killed James Hill? Murder would at least have been something to do. But while he liked the idea of arresting her, Gamache resisted.

He spent the rest of the afternoon interviewing the waiters at the bistro, the clerk at the general store, the young helper at the pastry shop. Then he climbed the slope to the Inn and Spa.

James Hill had chosen to spend his last days on earth here. Had his killer, too?

Chapter Ten

There were no young men among the guests at the Inn and Spa. The average age seemed to be ninety-seven. Except Tom Scott. The man who’d found the body. The man who’d lied about having a wife.

Chief Inspector Gamache sat across from him. Tom picked at a thread coming loose from his sweater.

“Why did you lie about having a wife?”

“Oh, that. I was joking.”

Gamache leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You were not joking.” Each word was said slowly, clearly.

“There is no wife,” admitted Tom Scott. The words hurried from him, like hostages trapped for years. “I made her up. Sometimes I give her a name. Kathy. We go to parties and movies and take long walks together. And we visit friends in the country.”

There was a long, long silence then. Armand Gamache sat still, waiting. The fire in the grate mumbled and popped. Tom Scott had closed his eyes. Gamache knew what he was doing. What all liars did.

He was looking for a way out. A back door. Another lie. A way to make this better.

The silence stretched on. Armand Gamache waited.

“I’m so lonely,” Scott finally whispered. “No one knows. It used to be an ache, a physical pain. Now even that’s gone. And there’s nothing. Nothing. I even tried to pick up that receptionist woman. I didn’t want to do anything. Just talk. I offered her a lift home, but she refused. I was trying to help, and she looked at me like I was crap.”

He sighed and opened his eyes.

“I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’m thirty-eight years old. Not even halfway through my life. I couldn’t see living like this for another month, never mind forty years.”

“What was your plan?” Gamache asked, though he suspected the answer. It was the April plan.

“I wasn’t sure. I wanted to come to a fancy place. Have the best room, eat the best food. See if I’d be happy then. But it didn’t work. I went for a walk in the woods, trying to think of what to do. I don’t want to live, but I’m too afraid to die.”

“Is that when you found the dead man?”

“Yes.” He looked into Gamache’s eyes. This time with wonder. “Do you think it was a sign from God?”

“Saying what?”