A Rule Against Murder (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #4)

A Rule Against Murder (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #4) Page 120

“Actually, it was a bee,” said Gamache. “A honey bee.”

“But that’s ridiculous. Why would a honey bee be there? Their hive’s all the way across the property. Besides, all the flowers around there were sick. A bee wouldn’t be attracted to them.”

“One last question. Agent Lacoste says you kept saying it wasn’t your fault.” He quickly held up a steady hand to reassure her. “We know it wasn’t. But I need to know why you said it.”

“Elliot and Mrs. Martin were talking on the other side of the statue. Laughing and kinda flirting. I was so angry. It was horrible to have to see them every day. I was working there and they obviously hadn’t seen me, or didn’t notice. Anyway, I stood up and put my hand on the statue. It moved.”

She lowered her eyes and waited for the inevitable laughter. He’d never believe her. Who would? What she’d said was laughable, which was why she hadn’t said anything about it before. How could a statue move? Yet it had. She could feel it grinding forward even now. She waited for him to laugh, to dismiss what she’d just said as ridiculous. She raised her eyes and saw him nodding.

“Thank you,” he said softly, though she wasn’t convinced he was talking to her. “It’s too late to join the others on the search. Perhaps you could help me.”

She smiled, relieved.

While Gamache took a couple of calls Madame Dubois put through he asked Colleen to call the Correctional Centre in Nanaimo, B.C. “Tell them Chief Inspector Gamache needs to speak to David Martin, urgently.”

Gamache spoke to the Musée Rodin in Paris, the Royal Academy in London and the Côte des Neiges cemetery in Montreal. He’d just hung up when Colleen handed him her phone.

“Mr. Martin’s on the line.”

“David Martin?” Gamache asked.

“It is. Is this Chief Inspector Gamache?”

“Oui, c’est moi-même.” He continued in rapid French, and received answers in equally rapid French. Very quickly Gamache found out about Martin’s early life and career, his early bankruptcies, his investors.

“I need the names of all your early investors.”

“That’s easy. There weren’t that many.”

Gamache scribbled the names as Martin dictated them.

“And they lost everything they’d invested with you?”

“We all did, Chief Inspector. No need to shed huge cow tears for them. Make no mistake, they were out for the main chance as well. It wasn’t charity. If the companies had hit big they’d have made a fortune. It’s business. I went bankrupt, and some of them did too. But I picked myself up.”

“You were young and without responsibilities. Some of them were older with families. They didn’t have the time or energy to start again.”

“Then they shouldn’t have invested.”

Gamache rang off and looked up. Irene Finney and Madame Dubois were standing in the room, side by side, with the same expression on their faces now. Behind them Colleen, like a “before” version of these elderly women, stood fresh and plump but with the same look on her face.

Fear.

“What is it?” He stood.

“Bean,” said Mrs. Finney. “We can’t find Bean.”

Gamache paled.

“When was the last time you saw Bean?”

“Lunch,” said Mrs. Finney, and they all checked their watches. Three hours. “Where’s my grandchild?”

She looked at Gamache as though he was responsible. And he knew he was. He’d been slow, allowed himself to be misdirected by his own prejudices. He’d accused Beauvoir of being blinded by emotion, but he had been too.

“You sit here, safe and warm with the old women and children,” hissed Mrs. Finney. “Hiding here while others do the difficult work.”

She was shaking with rage, as though the fault line had finally spread too wide and she’d tumbled in herself.

“Why?” Gamache whispered to himself. “Why Bean?”

“Do something, man,” Mrs. Finney shouted.

“I need to think,” he said.

He placed his hands behind his back and started to walk with a measured pace, around the library. In disbelief they watched. Then finally he stopped and turned, reaching into his pocket.

“Here, take my Volvo and park it across the drive. Are there other ways in and out of the property?” He tossed his keys to Colleen and walked rapidly to the door, Mesdames Dubois and Finney following and Colleen dashing into the rain.