Armand Gamache had been sitting there wondering the same thing. Someone had planned this, probably for a very long time. And then placed it. Carefully. Intentionally. Here.

“Three Pines isn’t on any map,” he said. “That would be an advantage when trying to hide something, but at the same time the village would provide services and workers when needed.”

“Except according to all our interviews, no local worked on the site,” she said.

“No one willing to admit it.”

“Oui,” said Lacoste.

Armand Gamache returned his gaze to the forest. He wasn’t sitting there with Henri simply marveling at the wildlife it contained. He was also scanning it. For new growth among the old. For holes in the canopy.

For evidence of one reference in the redacted notes the censors had failed to find. And black out.

“Professor Rosenblatt read the notes Reine-Marie printed out,” said Gamache.

“Did he find them interesting?” asked Lacoste.

“He didn’t seem to. And he either missed, or chose not to mention, the plural.”

The one letter among hundreds, thousands. Like a single tree in a forest. But one that changed everything.

“The s,” said Lacoste. “Superguns.”

Then she too looked across at mile after mile of forest.

“We told the Lepages about the gun,” she said. “Today, when we searched their place again.”

“Did you find anything?”

“No, though they admitted the Pete Seeger cassette was theirs but didn’t know how it got near the gun. But that’s another interesting thing. When we told them about the Supergun, they seemed surprised but neither of them asked any questions about it. Not one.”

“They might be absorbed in grief,” he said. “People don’t behave normally when there’s been a death, especially a violent one. Especially a child.”

“True.” After a few moments she spoke, under her breath. “Why here?”

“The gun?” he asked.

“No, the man. I asked Al Lepage that question. Why did he come to Three Pines, when he was dodging the draft.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he’d walked across the border from Vermont and saw the lights of the village.”

Now she turned to look at her former boss. His brows were raised, but he said nothing.

“But he couldn’t have, could he?” she said. “The forest is too thick. No one would just walk across the border, unless they wanted to get lost in the woods. He’d have to have known where he was going.”

Gamache nodded.

“He’d have to have had a guide. Someone who brought him here.”

They looked again at the old village. And the tall pine trees planted for one purpose. To signal to those seeking sanctuary that they were safe.

They’d made it to Three Pines.

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21