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“Nathalie, it’s Armand. Can you send me that list?” When he hung up, he walked quickly over to Jean-Guy, talking as he strode. “Fleming’s fourth victim, Connor McNee. He was a bridge builder.”

“Yes.” Beauvoir’s eyes opened. “Is that why there was the picture of the Québec Bridge in the painting?”

“I think so. Those engineer’s rings are made from the remains of the bridge. I think Connor McNee was an engineer. I think that was his ring.”

“But he’s dead. He couldn’t have left it there.”

“No, but Fleming could have. The bodies were never found. Just the heads.”

“Oh, fuck me,” muttered Beauvoir. They’d gone way past palaver.

Gamache checked his messages in hopes Nathalie had already sent the list of people who’d worn that ring. She had not. But there was one from Jérôme Brunel.

“What is it?” Beauvoir asked, seeing Gamache’s expression.

“Dr. Brunel has decoded the message on the clockface of the real Paston Treasure.”

Armand turned his phone around for Jean-Guy to see.

Time’s up.

“Oh, dear,” whispered Beauvoir.

CHAPTER 34

Myrna was getting more and more worried. She’d texted Harriet and called. Emailed and sent a WhatsApp.

But no reply.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” said Clara. She was on the stool in front of her easel. Myrna was on the sofa, her bum on the floor and her knees up around her ears. “She’s just ignoring you. She’ll calm down eventually. Give her space.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’m going over to the B&B.” She groaned in an unsuccessful effort to get up.

Clara sighed. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“I did,” said Myrna, finally rolling off the sofa. “I don’t agree.”

“Look, why don’t you call Gabri. Ask if Harriet’s returned. She’s staying there now, right?”

“Yes.” It was a good idea. As the phone rang, she looked at the painting Clara was working on.

It was a swirl of giddy colors. It looked like a hot mess.

After speaking to Gabri, she hung up and sighed. “She’s back. Harriet and Sam returned to the B&B a few minutes ago. They ordered an early dinner from the bistro.”

“Good,” said Clara, turning back to the canvas. “See? Safe and sound.”

Though Myrna was far from certain that was true.

Harriet stirred. And threw up. Her head felt like it had been split in two, and she tasted blood, mixed with the vomit.

She tried to move, but couldn’t. It took her fuzzy brain a moment to realize she was tied up.

That can’t be true, she thought.

Her vision was blurry, but she could see enough to know she was in the forest. Darkness was closing in again.

This can’t be happening, she thought.