Gamache laughed. “Perhaps a bit of both. My point is that parents always see their children as children. In our heads, we know their real age, but in our hearts, they’re still kids. I think that’s what happened with Hill.”

“He sees his daughter as a child?” asked Beauvoir, a little lost.

“Probably. But I meant the kids in the pickup. The last time he saw them, they were in their teens. Their images must have been burned into his mind. He would forever see them as teens.”

“He talked about a young man,” said Beauvoir, “but he was actually looking for someone much older.”

“In his mid- to late thirties,” said Gamache. “Who are the two survivors from that truck?”

“Cindy Pane and Tim Short.”

“Tim Short,” said Gamache. “Tom Scott?”

He stopped walking and looked into the distance. “And yet, perhaps he was lying,” the chief murmured. “Covering up.”

“What did you say?” asked Beauvoir.

Gamache turned to look at him. “James Hill came here to kill someone. Execute, he would say. But it comes to the same thing. He would hang his victim from a tree. But was it a him he was looking for? Or a her?”

“He said ‘him.’ He said ‘young man.’”

“True,” said Gamache, walking again. “But he also said his name was Arthur Ellis. He lied once, maybe he lied twice.”

They walked quickly up the slope, headed to the Inn and Spa.

“You think he wasn’t looking for a man,” said Beauvoir. “He was looking for a woman.”

Chapter Twelve

Chief Inspector Gamache looked around the group at the Inn and Spa. They were all in the living room. A fire crackled in the grate, tended by Mike, the handyman. His wife, Angela, the receptionist, was there. Dominique, the owner, stood by the grand piano. She looked nervous. She’d put out tea and a plate of cookies. But she suspected that this was not a social event.

Sue Gravel, from the Bed and Breakfast, sat in the best chair. The large one by the fire. She looked sour and hugged herself, but Gamache knew the chill she felt came from within.

“Nice place,” said young Paul Goulet. He had returned from his bicycle ride just in time to change and join them.

They all looked at Chief Inspector Gamache, who stood by the fireplace. Waiting.

Finally the last member of the group arrived.

Tom Scott looked surprised to see so many people. He paused, then sat in a chair by the door. Outside of the circle made by the other people.

“Why are we here?” Dominique asked.

She was polite but puzzled.

“We’re here to catch a killer,” said Gamache. He looked at each of them. Some were afraid. Some were annoyed. Some were amused.

And one was a murderer.