Still Life (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #1) - Louise Penny Page 0,15

or heart attack.’ He shook his head, still in disbelief.

‘Did you actually touch the wound?’ Beauvoir asked.

‘I think I might have. I just remember leaping up and wiping my hands on my pants. I panicked and like a – I don’t know what – an hysterical child I ran in circles. Idiot! Anyway, I finally got a hold of myself and dialed 911 on my cell phone.’

‘I’m curious,’ said Gamache. ‘Why did you bring a cell phone to walk in the woods?’

‘These woods belong to my family and every fall hunters trespass. I’m not a brave man, I’m afraid, but I can’t tolerate killing. Killing anything. I have spiders in my home with names. In the mornings when I go for a walk I bring a cell phone. Partly out of fear that I’ll get shot by some drunken hunter and need to call for help and partly to call Natural Resources and get a warden up here if I do spot someone.’

‘And what would that number be?’ asked Chief Inspector Gamache pleasantly.

‘I don’t know. I have it on my speed dial. I know that my hands shake when I’m nervous, so I just programmed the number in.’ Ben looked concerned for the first time and Inspector Gamache took him by the arm and led him further up the path.

‘I’m sorry about these questions. You’re an important witness and, frankly, the person who finds the body is near the top of our list of suspects.’

Ben stopped in his tracks and looked at the Inspector, incredulous.

‘Suspected of what? What are you saying?’ Ben turned around and looked back in the direction they’d come, toward Jane’s body. ‘That’s Jane Neal over there. A retired schoolteacher who tended roses and ran the ACW, the Anglican Church Women. It can’t be anything other than an accident. You don’t understand. Nobody would kill her on purpose.’

Nichol was watching this exchange and now waited with some satisfaction for Chief Inspector Gamache to set this stupid man straight.

‘You’re absolutely right, Mr Hadley. That’s by far the likeliest possibility.’ Yvette Nichol couldn’t believe her ears. Why didn’t he just tell Hadley to get off his soapbox and let them do their jobs? After all, he was the idiot who disturbed the body then ran around messing up and contaminating the whole site. He was hardly in a position to lecture a man as senior and respected as Gamache.

‘In the few hours you’ve been standing here, has anything about the scene or about Miss Neal seemed out of place?’

Gamache was impressed that Ben chose not to say the obvious. Instead he thought for a minute.

‘Yes. Lucy, her dog. I can’t remember Jane ever going for a walk without Lucy, especially a morning walk.’

‘Did you call anyone else on your cell?’

Ben looked as though he’d been presented with a totally new, and brilliant, idea.

‘Oh. Such an idiot! I can’t believe it. It never occurred to me to call Peter, or Clara or anyone. Here I was all alone, not wanting to leave Jane, but having to wave down the police. And it never occurred to me to call for help, except 911. Oh my God, the shock, I suppose.’

Or maybe, thought Nichol, you really are an idiot. So far it would be difficult to find a human being less effective than Ben Hadley.

‘Who are Peter and Clara?’ Beauvoir asked.

‘Peter and Clara Morrow. My best friends. They live next door to Jane. Jane and Clara were like mother and daughter. Oh, poor Clara. Do you think they know?’

‘Well, let’s find out,’ said Gamache suddenly, walking with surprising speed back down the path toward the body. Once at the scene he turned to Beauvoir.

‘Inspector, take over here. You know what you’re looking for. Agent, stay with the Inspector and help him. What time is it?’

‘Eleven-thirty, sir,’ said Nichol.

‘Right. Mr Hadley, is there a restaurant or cafe in the village?’

‘Yes, there’s Olivier’s Bistro.’

Gamache turned to Beauvoir. ‘Assemble the team at Olivier’s at one-thirty. We’ll miss the lunch rush and should have the place almost to ourselves. Is that correct, Mr Hadley?’

‘Hard to say, really. It’s possible as word gets out the village will congregate there. Olivier’s is the Central Station of Three Pines. But he has a back room he opens only for dinner. It overlooks the river. He’d probably open it for you and your team.’

Gamache looked at Ben with interest. ‘That’s a good idea. Inspector Beauvoir, I’ll stop by and speak with Monsieur Olivier—’

‘It’s Olivier Brulé,’ Ben interrupted. ‘He and his