TWENTY-SEVENClara and Peter Morrow turned their television and VCR on and Beauvoir shoved the tape into the slot.
He wasn’t looking forward to this. Two hours of some old English movie where all they probably did was talk, talk, talk. No explosions. No s*x. He thought he’d rather have the flu than sit through The Lion in Winter. Beside him on the sofa Agent Lemieux was all excited.
Kids.
Émilie Longpré dropped Gamache at the old Hadley house as he requested.
‘Would you like me to wait?’
‘No, madame, mais vous êtes très gentille. The walk back will do me good.’
‘It’s a cold night, Chief Inspector, and getting colder.’ She pointed to her dashboard. The time and temperature were displayed. Minus fifteen Celsius already and the sun had just set. It was four thirty.
‘I’ve never liked thi
