Page 22 of Miss Wolcott’s Ghost

That left four names.

“How well do you know these people?”

“Well enough to have them stay in my home. Wait, you aren’t thinking they had something to do with what’s happened?”

“Do you have any photographs of them?”

“I’ll look. I’m not sure.” Now she was sounding worried.

“I see that this couple are longtime friends of yours and your husband Peter.”

“Yes. We met through mutual friends twenty years ago. I see them once or twice a year. They came down in November. You missed them then, but I think you met them when they visited at Christmas two years ago.”

“And they were at Peter’s funeral,” said Myrna. “Though that was a while ago.”

“Oh, yes.” Armand pulled up the memory from the Christmas gathering, of two easygoing, quite fascinating people. She was an archeologist and he was lawyer. Mostly corporate, some criminal. Though Armand had never met him in that arena.

Could—he checked the name again—Daniel Bouvier be the body? It was possible. Or was he the one who’d called? But surely, Armand thought, I wouldn’t remember his voice.

No, now that he thought about the phone call, it wasn’t just the voice that was familiar. It was the tone. Panic. That’s what he’d recognized.

Now why would that be?

“And the other two on the list?” They were women, so not the victim, but perhaps the killer.

“They’re former classmates from high school. I went to a reunion last year and we reconnected.”

“We’re looking for a man, probably in his mid- to late forties. I’m thinking Monsieur Bouvier is about that age.”

“I think so,” said Clara. “And there’s Sheila’s husband.”

“Sheila? Your former classmate. But her husband isn’t on your list.”

“He came down with her but wasn’t feeling well and left. She stayed.”

“I think their marriage might’ve been in trouble,” said Myrna.

“His name?”

“Léo Ouelette.”

Armand made a note. “Excuse me.”

He stepped away, took a photo of the list, and sent it on to Jean-Guy. “We need an agent to track these people down. All of them, but with priority on those four who visited Clara in November. I’ve added a name. The two men are both in their mid- to late forties.”

“On it.”

“You think one of them’s the victim, don’t you,” said Clara, when he returned.

Myrna was studying Armand closely. “You think this is murder, and one of them’s the killer.”

CHAPTER 10

“It’s definitely murder, Armand,” said Dr. Harris. “Your man was killed by at least three blows to the head with a something heavy and slightly curved. I’m not sure what it was. But it was enough to crush the skull.”

“Bon,” said Gamache, though he didn’t really mean good, just that it was good to finally have information. Confirmation.

The screen for this video call sat in the middle of the conference table in the Old Train Station. The technicians had left. Homicide agents sat at desks sifting through information that was now coming in.