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“Right.” Sam turned away and stared at the blank television screen.

Gamache did too. “That’s a nice television. Is it new?”

“We’ve had it for a while,” said Fiona.

“When was the last time you saw your mother?” he asked, returning his attention to the girl.

“That morning, when we went to school. She was in bed.”

He had to ask. “Alone?”

“Yes, alone.”

He wasn’t convinced. But there was time to get at that truth. The autopsy and DNA samples would help.

“Did she take the car when she left?” he asked.

“Well, it’s not there, is it?” said Sam. “What do you think?”

Just then Inspector Chernin arrived with the warrant.

“We’re going to have to search your home,” Gamache told the children. “We’ll be as quick as we can and return everything to the way it was.”

Agent Moel said to Fiona, “Is that all right?”

Beauvoir wondered what would happen if Fiona said no. But she didn’t. She just nodded.

Agent Moel looked at Gamache. “We’ll be fine. I’ll make more tea.”

Again with the tea, thought Beauvoir. Was there something about that drink he’d missed? Unless it was brewed from marijuana, he doubted it would do what Agent Moel hoped.

Inspector Chernin coordinated the search, assigning Beauvoir to join the officers outside and leaving Agent Moel with the kids.

Gamache pulled Chernin and Pierre Gendron, the IT specialist, aside, and told them what Clotilde had been doing.

“Oh, shit,” said Chernin, and shook her head. “What mother, what monster, does that?”

There was no answer to that question, so they focused on the ones they could answer. “I’ll check her computer and phone,” said Gendron. He headed off to find them.

“The hikers now admit they’re members of the environmental group Assez,” said Chernin. “They came to investigate the old-growth forest. Apparently logging rights at the lake have been sold and a protest is planned. They’re the advance team.”

“Why not tell us that to begin with?”

“Well, they’re more than a little paranoid, given that their group isn’t often welcomed with open arms by the locals. What they’re planning is probably illegal. There were reports in the local paper that they’d be in the area, though they say they just arrived this morning.”

“You believe them?”

“Reserving judgment, patron. But that’s their story. By the way, their vehicle is clean, and yes, it belongs to the man.”

Gamache found it interesting that it was known around town that someone from the radical environmental group would be at the lake.

Jean-Guy Beauvoir was still in the living room. He found he was reluctant now to leave the boy, who clung to his hand.

“It’ll be okay, Sam.” He knelt at eye level and held the boy’s bony shoulders. “Do you trust me?”

Sam held his eyes. Held. Held. Then nodded and whispered through hiccups and caught breath, “Oui.”

“Bon,” said Jean-Guy. He found a Kleenex and wiped Sam’s face, then got him to blow his nose, as though he were four years old and not ten. “When I get back, we’ll talk. Okay?”