Page 58

“Because of the violence?”

There was silence.

“It seems you pick and choose which truth you’re going to tell,” said the Chief Inspector.

“Don’t we all?” asked Professor Robinson. “I can’t imagine you’re telling us everything you know. For instance, how did that man get into the gym with a gun? I saw your people at the door. They were checking everyone as they went in.”

Gamache looked at the Chancellor, to see if she’d told them about the suspected accomplice, but it seemed Abigail Robinson had figured this out on her own.

“We’re looking into it. There is a chance he wasn’t alone.”

The only sound was the crackling of the fire.

“So someone’s still out there?” said Debbie, her wide eyes going to the French doors and the garden beyond.

“We have Sûreté agents watching this house,” said Gamache. “And we’re doing all we can to find the accomplice. If there is one.”

“You don’t even know that? How can you find someone you’re not even sure exists?” demanded Debbie, her voice rising.

“It’s all right,” said Colette. “They’re very good at their jobs.”

“Like they were yesterday, when a gunman got in?” demanded Debbie.

Abigail placed a hand over her friend’s. Debbie took a deep, calming breath and squeezed Abigail’s hand.

One thing was becoming clear to Gamache. Abigail Robinson and Debbie Schneider were a couple, as surely as any lovers. Perhaps even more than most. Having sex did not define an intimate relationship, any more than not having sex prevented one.

“Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt you?” Lacoste asked. “Colleagues? Former partners, anyone who might hold some grudge?”

“Well, there’s half of Canada, it seems,” said Abigail.

“I mean personally.”

“I can’t think I hurt anyone so badly they’d want to kill me. Can you?” she asked Debbie, who also shook her head.

“You work at the University of Western Canada, is that right?” Lacoste asked.

“UWC, that’s right. I actually took over my father’s old job.”

Isabelle considered all the dynamics that suggested. It felt Shakespearean. Greek even. But was it a tragedy, or kindly Fate bestowing a gift on a gifted child?

“He must’ve been relatively young when he died,” said Lacoste.

“He was. Stroke.”

“And you were in Oxford when it happened?”

“She was,” said the Chancellor. “I got the call and had to tell her.”

“The hospital called you?” said Gamache.

“Oui. Paul put me down as the person to be notified. If anything happened, he didn’t want Abigail to hear any news like that on her own.”

“He sounds like a careful man,” said Gamache.

“He was a loving father,” said Colette. “Preparing for the unpredictable.”

“Practicing probability theory?” asked Gamache.