Page 72 of Miss Wolcott’s Ghost

“Yes. I’m an admirer. I’d like to see it, if possible. Is your brother in?”

Charles’s smile broadened. “I assumed you’d asked for him first, most do, and were told he’s away.”

“I was. Botswana. But then I was also told you were away until I showed my ID.”

Now Charles Fillmore’s smile turned into an apologetic smirk. “Brian and I are not the most public of people, Chief Inspector. We prefer our privacy. As do our clients, for that matter. So many people want to meet us, especially after the company went public. Reporters. Long-lost family of our own. Old friends. Perfect strangers who think we should give them money.”

“Not so perfect then?”

Fillmore laughed. “Who’d have thought being filthy rich would be such a problem.”

“My sympathies.”

Again, Fillmore laughed. “Merci. Not many appreciate the agony of sudden wealth. How can I help you?”

Instead of answering directly, Gamache said, “This desire for privacy, is that why the photograph on your site claiming to be the founder of Réunion is not, in fact, your brother? An attempt to hide your identities?”

“You make it sound nefarious, Chief Inspector. It’s not so much about hiding as protecting. And that’s proving useless, isn’t it? Was easy, back in the day, when we first started up. People just accepted that that photo was the founder. But now, with easy access to public records and social media and the internet, well”—he lifted his hands—“the cat’s out of the bag. Still, we keep the picture up as a sort of joke, or challenge, or…” He paused. “Maybe pure laziness on our part. To be honest, it was Brian’s idea, so I leave it to him.”

“And yet my understanding is you run the day-to-day operations of Réunion. It might be your brother’s brainchild, but you’re raising it.”

“An interesting way of putting it.”

“Am I wrong?”

There was suddenly a crackling in the air, for no reason that Armand could see.

Had he insulted Charles Fillmore? Was he touchy?

“My brother is still very much involved, but yes. He has the ideas, and I carry them out.”

“Like on a ship? He’s the Captain, you’re the first officer, making sure it doesn’t sink.”

Gamache had, of course, chosen the words carefully. To see the reaction.

Fillmore was openly examining him. Searching for meaning behind what could be a perfectly innocent statement. And had his guest been anyone other than the head of homicide for the Sûreté, Charles Fillmore might have dismissed the analogy.

Instead, Armand could see he’d hit a nerve. But what was that nerve connected to?

“If you like,” Fillmore replied stiffly. “What’s this about? Why are you here? It’s not a crime to post a slightly misleading photo on our website, is it?”

Again, Gamache sidestepped the question. “Why did you choose the photo of that specific man? James Clybourne?”

“Again, it was Brian’s idea, but I can answer that. Interesting that you know who that is.”

Armand raised and lowered his hands in confession.

“But of course you would.” Fillmore was attempting to lighten the tone, the mood. “If you ever want to change jobs, Chief Inspector, we can always find a place in the Réunion wheelhouse for you.”

Gamache smiled. “I have to admit, I find what you do fascinating. But I’ll stick to finding killers.”

That last word sucked the air out of the room.

“Is that what brings you here? Looking for a killer?” Charles Fillmore was no longer smiling. No longer pretending to be enjoying this conversation. No longer pretending this was just a conversation. “Do you need our help? I can lend you some of our investigators if you like.”

“Why James Clybourne?”

“Random.” Charles Fillmore slid back in his chair and crossed his legs in a parody of ease. “Brian saw the photo in an obit just as he was creating the company and thought it would be fun to use it. Mr. Clybourne looks so respectable. Much more than Brian or I did back then. We were kinda scruffy. Who’d trust their family heritage, perhaps even their secrets, to us? But Mr. Clybourne?” Charles leaned forward slightly and stared unapologetically into Gamache’s face. “Or you, Chief Inspector. I suspect people trust you implicitly, even with their lives.”