She looked at all her sons. And all her daughters. Not of her loins, but the family of her heart.
“It’s yours.” She pushed it toward him.
“You need it.” Beauvoir pushed it back.
“I’ve had it. Now it’s your turn.”
Beauvoir put it in his pocket. And as he did he heard a long, deep horn.
The Loup de Mer was calling them.
* * *
“Yesterday?” Clara gaped. “I just saw him a few days ago. He didn’t say anything about going. What’s this about?”
“I don’t know,” said Gamache. He looked across the calm waters of the sheltered harbor. Then he dropped his eyes. Below the dock he could see fish darting. Flashes of silver in the cold, clear water.
“Professor Norman’s in Tabaquen,” he spoke to the fish. “And now Professor Massey’s gone there. Why?”
“Massey lied to us,” said Clara. “He said he didn’t know where Norman was.”
“And maybe he didn’t at the time,” said Gamache. “Maybe our questions got him to wondering, and he looked at the file too.”
“But why would he go there? It’s not just down the street, it’s halfway across the continent. You’d have to be pretty desperate.”
Yes, thought Gamache. That was the word. And he was feeling increasingly desperate to get there himself.
“I asked the pilot if he could pick us up here but he said the weather had closed in. All along the coast. He wasn’t flying in or out of the villages.”
“So we couldn’t have made it to Tabaquen today anyway?”
“I doubt it,” said Gamache. “Red sky in the morning.”
The ship’s horn sounded, deep and mournful. She looked at her watch. “It’s leaving.”
She started walking rapidly to the quai.
“Wait, Clara. I have another question. It’s about Chartrand.”
Clara stopped. And turned. “What about him?”
The ship’s horn gave another cry.
“Why do you think he came with us?”
Gamache could see Jean-Guy waving at them from beside the Loup de Mer.
“Because he likes our company?” Clara suggested.
“Our company?”
“You think he came because of me?”
“What do you think?”
The ship’s horn was now giving off short, insistent blasts.
“You think he’s only pretending to like me, as an excuse to get close to us.”
Gamache remained silent.
“You think I’m not reason enough for a man to close up shop and join us?”
“I’ve seen how he looks at you,” said Gamache. “How he’s drawn to you. And you to him.”
“Go on.”
“I don’t think it’s a complete lie.”
“Not a complete one. How nice.”
But Gamache, while trying to be gentle, wasn’t going to be baited. “We need to explore all possibilities.”
“Such as?”
“Chartrand knew No Man,” said Gamache. “I think it’s possible he was a member of his community, or cult, or whatever it was. I think it might even have been Chartrand who told Peter about Tabaquen. And sent him there.”
“That’s no crime, Armand. You’re turning it into something sinister.”
“You’re right,” Gamache admitted. “If Peter asked about No Man and Chartrand told him where to find him, there’s absolutely nothing sinister about it. In fact, it was doing Peter a favor. Except—”
“What?”
“If that’s what Chartrand did, why not tell us?”
That stopped Clara.
“Why keep it a secret, Clara? What’s he trying to hide?”
Clara was quiet for a moment. In the silence they could hear Jean-Guy calling to them.
“You asked why Marcel would join us, but you haven’t asked why I agreed.”
“I thought—”
“You thought I’d lost my heart to him? The lonely woman, vulnerable to a little attention? Do you really think that’s likely?”
“Well, now I don’t,” he said, and was so clearly embarrassed Clara smiled.
Jean-Guy was waving frantically from the dock and Myrna was standing in the middle of the gangway, refusing to move for the sailors.
“If Marcel knew where Peter went and didn’t tell us, it’s because he wanted to keep us away from Tabaquen,” said Clara. “He might be keeping an eye on us, but I’m watching him too. That’s why I wanted him with us.”
