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“Thank you, Armand.” She paused. “I know Jeanette wasn’t perfect. But she was mine.”

“Here, let me.” He carried the tray into the kitchen and helped her wash up.

“Do you need help getting ready for bed?”

She looked at the large man with weary amusement. “Are you going to tuck me in, Chief Inspector?”

“I would consider it an honor, Madame Bouchard.”

She shook her head. “Merci, but not necessary. Jeanette has arranged for a night nurse. When I knew you were coming over, I asked her to leave for an hour. That must be her now.”

There was a cheerful call from the front of the house. Then a slender woman in a nurse’s uniform appeared. Seeing Gamache, her expression changed.

“Have I come back too soon?”

“Non.” He walked over and introduced himself, then dropped his voice. “You’re a private nurse?”

“I am.”

“Did her daughter hire you?”

“Oui.”

“Have you been paid recently?”

The nurse glanced at Janice, who was putting the now dried mugs away in a cupboard. “No.”

Armand handed her his card. “Email me please. I’ll arrange for it. And contact me should she need anything.”

He’d never had to care for his own parents. This seemed only right.

That had been the night before.

The next morning, he sat waiting, waiting, for the Crown Prosecutor.

CHAPTER 63

“Now, Chief Inspector, you’re the head of homicide for the Sûreté du Québec.”

Bernard Lebel stared at him as though this was a serious question.

“I am.” It was the sort of officious thing Gamache expected of the Crown Prosecutor.

“So, just to be clear, you’re not a botanist.”

If the statement took him by surprise, Armand didn’t show it. “No, sir.” His voice was level, not rising to the bait. “As you know, I’m a trained homicide detective, with more than thirty—”

“Still, you know nothing about plants.”

“I know a little, but I’m far from an expert.”

“I just wanted to be sure. I see the person you’ve arrested is not just a botanist, but perhaps the most renowned plant expert in Québec. So, that’s all good.” Lebel made a small note, then looked over his glasses at Gamache, as though Armand had made the arrest just to annoy him. Had this not been so serious, Armand might have found it funny.

“When did you begin to suspect the most celebrated botanist in the province, a woman awarded L’Ordre national du Québec, was responsible for the murder of Brian Fillmore?”

“I am assuming you’ve read my synopsis if not the file.”

“Just answer the question, Chief Inspector.”