“Because it wasn’t,” said Beauvoir. “I called them just now. Neither has heard from Antoinette since they quit. So either Antoinette lied to Brian or he lied to us.”

“But he must’ve known we’d find out,” said Lacoste. She thought for a moment. “It’s more likely Antoinette lied to him about who was coming over.”

“And why?” said Gamache. “Who could her visitors have been?”

“And did they kill her?” said Beauvoir. “It seems likely. But they were running a risk. Suppose Antoinette told Brian who was really coming over?”

“They must’ve known she wouldn’t tell him the truth,” said Lacoste. “Which means it was something she wanted to keep secret.”

“Something shameful?” suggested Beauvoir, tossing out ideas. “Something illegal or unethical? An affair?”

They stared at each other. Then Gamache’s eyes were drawn to the script. So much seemed to circle back to it. The goddamned play.

Beauvoir followed the glance. “Yes, we were wondering the same thing. Could her death have something to do with the Fleming play? Were they looking for it? Does that explain the mess in their home? Brian had taken it to Montréal, but they couldn’t have known that.”

Gamache got up. “I’ve almost finished reading it. There’s nothing hidden in the plot that I can see. Do you need me for anything? I was going to drive to Highwater, but it’s getting late, and with this news, I think I’ll stay here. Do you mind if I tell Reine-Marie?”

“No. In fact, we might as well tell everyone,” said Lacoste, joining him. “I’ll come with you and start the interviews.”

“There’s something else you need to know, Isabelle.”

He stopped, and she turned to him. “I asked Mary Fraser about Highwater. They know that we know they were there.”

“And her reaction?”

“She asked if I was threatening her.”

“Huh,” said Lacoste. “That’s strange. I wonder what she meant.”

“I wonder what’s in Highwater.”

“I’ll look it up when I get back to the Incident Room.”

“You have other things to do,” he said. “I can look it up. I still have my security codes.”

“Oh, the damage you could do, patron,” Lacoste said, with a smile.

“Funnily enough, Mary Fraser seems to think the same thing. She all but accused me of being involved in Laurent’s death and somehow involved in the hunt for Gerald Bull’s Supergun.”

“If she thinks that she’s crazy.”

“She’s complex,” he said. “I was talking with an old friend at CSIS just a week or so ago. I’ll call her up again and have Mary Fraser and Sean Delorme checked out, on the quiet of course. But there’s something else. They know you were the one who leaked the information about Project Babylon.”

Isabelle Lacoste’s eyes widened, just a bit, and she sighed. “Well, bound to happen. I’m not worried.”