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“Look, you’re the ones who opened that duffel bag,” he said, his voice rising, his frustration getting away from him with every word. “Who let an inexperienced agent loose to goose-step around in that Instagram account—”

Zalmanowitz stopped himself, with effort. Putting his hands out in front of him as though to protect them from his wrath.

He sat back in his chair. Which bounced with the force of his body.

Staring at Gamache, he saw that while the Chief Inspector’s tone had been civil so far, and his face calm, his jaw muscles were clamped tight.

This was not a relaxed man. This was a man who was simply better at containing his emotions.

“I’m sorry.” Zalmanowitz took a deep breath and looked at the three investigators. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is,” snapped Beauvoir. “I fucked up.”

“So did I,” said Gamache. “I’m the one who actually opened the duffel bag.”

“And I let Agent Cloutier pursue the Instagram account. Even encouraged her,” said Lacoste, shaking her head.

“None of us looks good in this,” Zalmanowitz admitted. “I’m the lawyer, the prosecutor. I should’ve seen that there might be a problem. But I didn’t.”

Now he rubbed his face with his hands. Trying to erase his expression of defeat.

“That is true. This’s mostly your fault,” said Beauvoir, and when the prosecutor looked at him, Beauvoir smiled. And Zalmanowitz gave one gruff laugh.

Truce.

“As I said, I’ll file an appeal,” said the prosecutor. “But that’ll take months to be heard. The poisonous tree is the most damaging ruling. It’s just unfortunate that so much stems from something so early on. It affects almost every bit of evidence.”

“‘Unfortunate’ isn’t the word,” said Lacoste.

Zalmanowitz nodded. “Her decision on the poisonous tree sits right on the boundary, which is why no other judge will overturn her ruling. And you’d better note it, because it’ll become case law from now on. And affect all other searches. But”—now he leaned forward, arms on his desk—“the more gnarly decision, by her own private admission, concerns the social-media issue.”

“The Instagram account,” said Lacoste, pulling her chair closer to the desk.

“Exactly. Judge Pelletier’s right, of course, that courts are struggling to figure out the laws around social media. The government’s working on legislation, but it’s controversial and sensitive, and you know how politicians love those two things.”

He waited for their laugh of appreciation. Instead all he got were three glum stares.

“If this judgment stands,” he went on, “it’ll redefine boundaries.”

“But it’s not right,” said Beauvoir. “It ties our hands when it comes to social-media accounts. It pretty much locks us out and lets people do anything they want.”

“As they can in the privacy of their own homes,” said Zalmanowitz. “That’s the analogy she’s using. As Pierre Elliott Trudeau said when he was Prime Minister, the government has no place in the bedrooms of the nation.”

“But there are limits,” said Gamache. “Assault, child pornography, murder. Just because people do it in the privacy of their homes doesn’t mean they’re beyond the reach of law. But I also know we aren’t solving anything by going over and over this. A decision was reached. You’ll appeal. In the meantime, Carl Tracey is free. Do we have other evidence, untainted, that can be used?”

“Vivienne called her father that day, to say she was finally leaving Tracey,” said Beauvoir. “That sure suggests she was afraid.”

“There’s the evidence of Agent Cameron, who responded to Vivienne’s 911 calls,” said Lacoste. “It was clear there was abuse.”

“But not clear enough for him to actually bring Tracey in. He didn’t feel it met the ‘reasonable suspicion’ test. Besides, abuse isn’t murder. What else do we have?”

“There’s that young man, what’s his name,” said Beauvoir. “The one she called over and over the day she was killed.”

“Gerald Bertrand,” said Lacoste. “He claims it was a wrong number.”

“And you believe him?” asked Zalmanowitz.

“Yes, I think I do. We checked him out, and there’s absolutely nothing connecting him to Vivienne or Tracey. I think she wrote the number down wrong.”