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“I thought dispatch was joking when they said you were a senior cop from Canada.” She smiled as she handed it back to him. “But you check out.”

“I am relieved.”

“You’re a long way from home. How did you come to find the body?”

Armand had spent some time working out how much to say. It had to be the truth, but perhaps not the whole truth. That would take too long and lead to more questions.

When he finished, she said, “If this was a murder, a criminal case, I would ask you to join me at the station. But it looks like an accident to me. Your thoughts?”

“I agree. As you know, I’m from homicide, so my starting position is almost always one of suspicion. But it seems clear this was a terrible accident.”

“Do you have any idea why the young woman was here?”

“I wish I did. She must have been looking for something, but I can’t think what.”

The cop nodded and finally said, “I don’t think we need to hold you.”

He smiled. “Again, relieved.”

“I will need your contact information and any information you have on the woman. Especially next of kin.”

“Do you have a positive ID?”

“Yes. The dead woman is, as you suspected, Jeanette Bouchard. We have her passport. It was in her backpack.”

Behind them there was a moan.

“And who is that?” She pointed to Gaston Comeau, who was sitting on a low wall, pale.

“A colleague. First time seeing a body in that condition.”

“Between us, sir, I’m not sure that man is cut out for homicide.”

“I suspect you’re right.” He looked over her shoulder. “There’s a folly on the property. Someone tore up the floorboards. Might’ve just been vandals, but it does seem recent.”

“We’ll check it out and let you know.”

“Merci.” He hesitated. “Do you plan to call Jeanette Bouchard’s mother?”

“I do. Eventually. Unless you’d like to.”

“I would.”

The detective stared at Gamache. She’d been joking when she made the offer, knowing no one would ever say yes. But while her question had been in jest, she could see his answer was not. Gamache was completely sincere.

“I promised I’d give her any news.”

The detective studied Gamache, a man at least twenty years her senior. With greying hair and a not unattractive face. What made it attractive, she realized, were his eyes. Deep brown, intelligent, thoughtful. And kind.

In contrast to the kindly gaze, there was the deep scar at his temple that could have only been made by a bullet. How close this head of homicide from Canada had come to also being a dead body …

Armand handed her his card. “I’d appreciate any information you can give me. Especially what’s on her person.”

“I’ll send you a copy of my report, Chief Inspector.”

“Merci.”

“Un plaisir.”