A Trick of the Light - Louise Penny [107]
He liked the food, but what he mostly loved were the conversations with the Chief. Just the two of them.
“One theory is that Lillian Dyson came here to make amends to someone,” said Gamache. “To apologize.”
“If she did I bet she wasn’t sincere.”
“So why would she have been here, if she wasn’t sincere?”
“To do what it was in her nature to do. To screw someone.”
“Clara?” Gamache asked.
“Maybe. Or someone else. She had lots to choose from.”
“And it went wrong,” said Gamache.
“Well, it sure didn’t go right, for her anyway.”
Was the answer so simple? Gamache wondered. Was Lillian Dyson just being true to who she really was?
A selfish, destructive, hurtful person. Drunk or sober.
The same person, with the same instincts and nature.
To hurt.
“But,” said Gamache, “how’d she know about this party? It was a private party. By invitation only. And we all know Three Pines is hard to find. How did Lillian know about the party, and how’d she find it? And how did the murderer know she’d even be here?”
Beauvoir took a deep breath, trying to think, then shook his head.
“I got us this far, Chief. It’s your turn to do something useful.”
Gamache sipped his beer and grew quiet. So quiet, in fact, that Beauvoir became concerned. Maybe he’d upset the Chief with his flippant remark.
“What is it?” Beauvoir asked. “Something wrong?”
“No, not really.” Gamache looked at Beauvoir, as though trying to make up his mind about something. “You say people don’t change, but you and Enid loved each other once, right?”
Beauvoir nodded.
“But now you’re separated, on your way to a divorce. So what happened?” Gamache asked. “Did you change? Did Enid? Something changed.”
Beauvoir looked at Gamache with surprise. The Chief was genuinely perturbed.
“You’re right,” admitted Beauvoir. “Something changed. But I don’t think it was us really. I think we just realized that we weren’t the people we pretended to be.”
“I’m sorry?” asked Gamache, leaning forward.
Beauvoir collected his scattered thoughts. “I mean, we were young. I think we didn’t know what we wanted. Everyone was getting married and it seemed like fun. I liked her. She liked me. But I don’t think it was ever really love. And I think I was pretending, really. Trying to be someone I wasn’t. The man Enid wanted.”
“So what happened?”
“After the shootings, I realized I had to be the man I was. And that man didn’t love Enid enough to stay.”
Gamache was quiet for a few moments, immobile, thinking.
“You spoke to Annie Saturday night, before the vernissage,” said Gamache finally.
Beauvoir froze. The Chief went on, not needing a reply.
“And you saw her and David together at the party.”
Beauvoir willed himself to blink. To breathe. But he couldn’t. He wondered how long before he passed out.
“You know Annie well.”
Beauvoir’s brain was shrieking. Wanting this to be over, for the Chief to just say what was on his mind. Gamache finally looked up, directly at Beauvoir. His eyes, far from angry, were imploring.
“Did she tell you about her marriage?”
“Pardon?” Beauvoir barely whispered.
“I thought she might have said something to you, asked your advice or something. Knowing about you and Enid.”
Beauvoir’s head swam. None of this was making sense.
Gamache leaned back and exhaled deeply, throwing his balled-up napkin onto his plate. “I feel such a fool. We’d had little signs that things weren’t well. David canceling dinners together, showing up late, like on Saturday night. Leaving early. They weren’t as demonstrative as before. Madame Gamache and I had talked about it, but thought it might just be their relationship evolving. Less in each other’s pockets. And couples grow apart, then come back together again.”
Beauvoir felt his heart start again. With a mighty thump.
“Are Annie and David growing apart?”
“She didn’t say anything to you?”
Beauvoir shook his head. His brain sloshing about in there. With only one thought now. Annie and David were growing apart.