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“What happened to them?”

“The documents? They took them to Lost Nation. That’s why I started telling you about this. You wanted to know about Lost Nation, right? Well, something’s buried there besides bodies. Aldous and Mr. Morrow decided to make a headstone and put the stuff from the ship there. I had to clean up the mess. Mr. Morrow said they should also bury the ledger until it all blew over.”

Once again, Armand and the others exchanged looks. Then dropped their eyes to the revolving tape.

“And did they?”

Pause.

“I don’t really know. Alls I know is that Mr. Morrow was suddenly really scared of Jack Montgomery. I was there when Monty—that was his nickname—came to the house and threatened Mr. Morrow. A week later, they were dead in a house fire at the cabin in Lost Nation. I never saw the documents or the ledger again. Maybe Monty took them. Maybe they were buried or burned.”

“Did Montgomery want the documents?”

“He never mentioned them. He said his boss was pissed about Mr. Morrow also selling to the Irish.”

“Selling what?”

Armand smiled. Young Solange would have made an excellent investigator, had she lived and chosen to follow her father into the Sûreté.

“Not flowers, I can tell you that much.”

“You say Jack Montgomery is still alive?”

“And around, yes. He came to me after the murders and said if I knew anything I’d better keep my mouth shut. Then he beat me. Broke my jaw. Said that would help.”

“Oh, Flossy. I’m so sorry.”

“Happens. My brother was killed three years later, at Passchendaele. Never found him. Blown to bits.” She made a dismissive sound. “Worse things happen.”

The rest of the tape was taken up with memories of the Great War, and the boys who went, and those who never returned.

The Sûreté officers listened to the end. Until the tape ran out and clicked off.

And still they stared at the now motionless tape.

Then Armand exhaled. They had their proof. The connection. And yet—

“Where are the documents?” he seemed to ask the tape.

“Could they have burned in the fire that killed Morrow and Clybourne?” asked Isabelle.

“But she said both were buried,” said Jean-Guy. “So, if Fillmore found the ledger, then he must’ve found the documents.”

“And Lagacé must have them. No?”

“But she only hid the ledger?” said Gamache. “No, something’s off.”

Gamache stood up and gestured to the cassette. “Keep that safe. We’ll need it for the case against Lagacé. And we need the interview transcribed. Isabelle, see what you can find out about Jack, probably John, Montgomery. Start an investigation. We need justice for Solange and Flossy. Even if no one can be charged, we need to know.”

When they left, Armand sat down heavily and stared at where the cassette had sat. Then he pressed play on the copy he’d made on his phone. And listened and listened again.

There was one phrase that caught his attention. It was simply a strange way of saying something.

Flossy seemed to have made a distinction between the documents and the ledger. Or had she? Was he reading too much into it?

Aldous and Mr. Morrow decided to make a headstone and put the stuff from the ship there. I had to clean up the mess. Mr. Morrow said they should also bury the ledger until it all blew over.

Was that odd? Maybe not. Maybe.