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“Meaning I doubt she took the pill. And you know that this bottle”—she held it up—“wasn’t from a prescription, right? It’s almost certainly black market.”

“Yes.”

“I have a question for you,” said Gamache.

“Oui,” said Dr. Harris.

“Is Mifegymiso free?”

“If prescribed by a doctor, yes.”

“So if it’s both legal and free, why would anyone pay for it on the black market?”

“Well, I guess if she was twenty weeks along, no doctor would prescribe it,” said the coroner.

“Possible,” said Gamache.

“But you don’t think so,” said Beauvoir.

“I’m wondering if Vivienne got those pills,” said Gamache. “Or if Tracey did.”

“Why would he do that?” asked Dr. Harris.

“He would,” said Beauvoir, “if he knew the baby wasn’t his and wanted her to abort. Probably without her knowing.”

“Which would mean he knew all that long before Saturday,” said Gamache. “But if he knew what the drug was for and he packed her duffel bag, why put them in?”

“Maybe to confuse us,” said Beauvoir.

“Well,” said Gamache, and raised his brows. It was working …

“Or maybe—”

Dr. Harris watched as the two investigators discussed possibilities and probabilities.

She’d worked with them for years. Seen their relationship blossom and wither. Seen it through all its spasms, incarnations, hoops, and dips. The ruptures and the mendings.

Things are strongest where they’re broken.

Gamache had said that, quietly, once. Years ago. In the cathedral in Québec City, at the funerals for four of his agents, killed in a raid. He’d whispered it to himself as he knelt, head bowed, during one of the silent prayers. Not realizing, perhaps, that anyone other than God was listening.

And God knew, as did Sharon Harris, that the relationship between Gamache and Beauvoir had been shattered, more than once. But it had survived to this day, stronger than ever.

She listened, and marveled, and envied this bond.

She also noticed that in each scenario they knew exactly who the murderer was. Which was a good start.

“Or,” said Gamache, “Vivienne did pack the bag, intending to leave her husband. She put the pills in because she was still undecided about the baby.”

“At more than three months out? Why would she decide to end the pregnancy now? I think protecting the baby was the reason she left him. Vivienne wanted to start a new life, with the child.”

“The problem is, we can’t always get clean away,” said Dr. Harris. “Not when we’re running from our demons.”

She knew. She was surrounded by their work every day.

Gamache nodded and caught Beauvoir’s eye.

They’d spent decades tracking the creatures. Into dark alleys. Into homes. Deep into lives. Often in the guise of friends, lovers, caring colleagues. Sometimes complete strangers. Sometimes they were of people’s own making.