Still Life (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #1) - Louise Penny Page 0,73
room, picked up a half sandwich and took a leisurely bite.
‘Tell us what happened last Sunday morning,’ said Gamache.
‘I got up early, as I usually do. Sunday’s Suzanne’s day to sleep in. I put the breakfast things on the kitchen table for the kids then went out. Bow hunting.’
‘You told us you didn’t hunt any more,’ said Beauvoir.
‘I lied.’
‘Why go to the woods behind the schoolhouse?’
‘Dunno. I guess because that’s where my father always hunted.’
‘Your father smoked unfiltered cigarettes and ran your home as a dairy farm. You don’t,’ said Gamache. ‘You’ve proven you’re no slave to your father’s way of doing things. There must be another reason.’
‘Well, there isn’t. It was Thanksgiving and I was missing him. I took his old recurve bow and his old arrows and went to his old hunting grounds. To feel closer to him. Point finale.’
‘What happened?’
‘I heard a sound, something coming through the trees, like a deer. Slowly and carefully. Almost on tiptoe. That’s how deer walk. So I drew my bow and as soon as the shape appeared I fired. You have to be fast with deer ‘cause any little thing will set them off.’
‘But it wasn’t a deer.’
‘No. It was Miss Neal.’
‘How was she lying?’
Croft stood up, put his arms and legs out, his eyes wide open.
‘What did you do?’
‘I ran to her, but I could see she was dead. So I panicked. I looked for the arrow, picked it up, and ran to the truck. I threw everything in the back and drove home.’
‘What happened then?’ In Beauvoir’s experience interrogation was really just asking, ‘Then what happened?’ and listening closely to the reply. Listening was the trick.
‘I don’t know.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I can’t remember anything after getting in the truck and driving home. But isn’t that enough? I killed Miss Neal. That’s all you need to know.’
‘Why didn’t you come forward?’
‘Well, I didn’t think you’d find out. I mean, the woods are full of hunters, I couldn’t believe you’d come to me. Then when you did, I didn’t want to destroy my father’s old bow. It means a lot to me. It’s like having him in the house still. When I realised it had to be destroyed it was too late.’
‘Do you beat your son?’
Croft winced, as though revolted, but said nothing.
‘I sat in your kitchen this morning and told you we thought Philippe had killed Miss Neal,’ Gamache leaned forward so his head hovered over the sandwiches, but he only had eyes for Croft. ‘Why didn’t you confess then?’
‘I was too stunned.’
‘Come on, Mr Croft. You were waiting for us. You knew what the lab tests would show. And yet now you’re saying you were going to have your son arrested for a crime you yourself committed? I don’t think you’re capable of that.’
‘You have no idea what I’m capable of.’
‘I guess that’s true. I mean, if you can beat your son you can do anything.’
Croft’s nostrils flared and his lips compressed. Gamache suspected if he truly was violent he’d have taken a swing at him then.
They left Croft sitting in the interview room. ‘What’d you think, Jean Guy?’ Gamache asked when they reached the privacy of the station commander’s office.
‘I don’t know what to think, sir. Did Croft do it? Philippe’s story hangs together. It’s possible.’
‘We found absolutely no evidence of Jane Neal’s blood in Croft’s truck, or Mrs Croft’s car. His fingerprints weren’t anywhere—’
‘True, but Philippe said he wore gloves,’ Beauvoir interrupted.
‘You can’t wear gloves and shoot a bow and arrow at the same time.’
‘He could have put them on after he shot, once he saw what he’d done.’
‘So he had the presence of mind to put on gloves, but not enough to call the police and admit the accident? No. On paper it makes sense. But in real life it doesn’t.’
‘I don’t agree, sir. One thing you’ve always impressed on me is that we can never know what happens behind closed doors. What really goes on in the Croft home? Yes, Matthew Croft gives every impression of being a thoughtful and reasonable man, but we’ve found time and again that that’s exactly how abusers appear to the outside world. They have to. That’s their camouflage. Matthew Croft may very well be abusive.’ Beauvoir felt stupid lecturing Gamache on the very things he’d learned from the man himself, but he thought they bore repeating.
‘What about the public meeting, when he was so helpful?’ Gamache asked.
‘Arrogance. He admits himself he never thought we’d find him.’