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Somehow this was all connected to the sinking of the Empress of Ireland, more than a hundred years ago. And the thread connecting them ran right through Clara’s home. Through Three Pines.

And into Lost Nation.

Armand felt he was getting closer to understanding. But he also knew he was in danger of getting all twisted and tangled in those threads. And losing the one that really mattered.

And then there was Gaston Comeau. How did he fit in?

Armand knew, with a sinking feeling, that the only way to get answers was to talk to Comeau himself.

“Do you have the key?” He pointed to the locked door.

“Non. I’ll call security.”

The head of security showed up a few minutes later, stopping partway down the corridor in surprise when he recognized the Chief Inspector.

As he approached, Gamache stepped forward and introduced himself, offering his hand. The man took it.

“A pleasure, sir.” Like most people, the man’s gaze darted from Gamache’s eyes to the scar.

Embarrassed at having done something that felt invasive, the head guard fumbled with his keys, cursing under his breath. Finally he got the door unlocked.

Gamache opened it and barely managed to stop himself from stepping in. Instead, he put his arms out, his palm on each side of the doorframe to bar the others from entering. Then he stood on the threshold and stared.

“What?” said Charles, leaning against Gamache’s arm, to get a better look. “Oh.”

The place was a shambles.

Gamache shut the door, asked the head of security to relock it, and give him the key. Then he called for a full homicide team.

“Who else has been in Madame Bouchard’s office?” he asked the now distressed assistant.

“I don’t know. As you can see, I don’t have a direct view from my desk, and anyone could go in after hours.”

“The door was locked, which means someone else has the key—”

“Or she locked it herself,” suggested Charles.

“And searched her own office, leaving it in that state? Who else would have a key? Security, yes, but anyone else?”

“The cleaning staff would,” said the head of security.

“I need to speak to the head of your cleaning staff. And there’s another office I need to see. Gaston Comeau’s.”

“Who?”

“One of your investigators.”

“Comeau, did you say, Chief Inspector?” said the head of security.

“Oui. Do you know him? Did you perform his security check before he was hired? If so, we need to talk. There’s something you missed.”

“Well, sir, I do know Comeau, and no, we didn’t perform a security check on him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he wouldn’t be given access to clients’ private information.”

“Why not?”