A hush fell over the cheerful room, with its beamed ceiling and fieldstone fireplaces lit and welcoming, so at odds with the angry faces.

“Is there a problem?” Armand asked, his steady gaze going from familiar face to familiar face.

“Yes,” said a man standing at the back. “We want to know what you found in the woods.”

Gabri, Olivier and their servers took advantage of the distraction to clear away drinks from the tables and put out boards of bread and cheese.

“We have a right to know,” said another patron. “This’s our home. We have kids. We need to know.”

“You’re right,” said Gamache. “You do have a right to know. You need to know. You have children and grandchildren who need protecting. One child has already been killed, we need to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Anger dissipated as they realized he agreed with them.

“The problem is, you see,” said Armand, stepping further into the room, his voice calm and reasonable, “it’s possible one of you killed Laurent.”

Beside him, Reine-Marie whispered, “Armand?”

But she saw his face in profile, determined. His eyes unwavering, as he looked out at the faces of his neighbors. He radiated certainty and calm.

Her gaze shifted to the patrons of the bistro. They were sober now. Quiet. His words had slammed into them, knocking the booze, knocking the anger, knocking the stuffing out of them.

A few sat down. Then more. Until they were all sitting.

Gamache took a long, deep breath. “I’m not saying anything you haven’t already figured out for yourselves. That you haven’t already said to each other. You’ve almost certainly looked around and wondered who did it. Which of you killed a nine-year-old boy.”

And now they looked around again, lowering their eyes as they met a friend, a neighbor staring back at them.

“I know what’s in those woods,” he said. “And I could tell you, but I won’t. Not because I want to hide it from you. I don’t. But because it would compromise the hunt for the killer. Laurent’s murderer is counting on your help. He’s sitting, perhaps among us now, hoping you’ll storm into the woods. He’s praying you trample evidence and disrupt the investigation. A killer hides in chaos. You need to not give him that.”

“Then what should we do?” a woman asked.

“You should stay out of the woods. You should keep your children out of the woods. You should be absolutely open and honest when the investigators ask you questions. The more light thrown onto an investigation, the fewer places he can hide. Laurent was not killed by some serial killer, or some errant madman. There was purpose to this. You need to make sure you and your children don’t get in his way, or in the investigators’ way.”