and started tapping rapidly on the keys. Different pages popped up and disappeared from the screen.
“This is,” she said as she typed, “the same route Anthony Baumgartner took. Circuitous, but then it would have to be.”
There, finally, on the screen was the home page of a corporation in the British Virgin Islands.
“Is that where Baumgartner hid the rest of the money?” asked Beauvoir.
“With Shaeffer’s help. But it’s a launch point, not the final stop,” said Cloutier. “People who want to hide money set up a corporation in a tax haven like BVI, then funnel it to a numbered account. Switzerland used to be the country of choice. But then came the crackdown. This”—she hit another page—“took over.”
A bank in Singapore came up.
“How do you know this’s where Baumgartner hid his money?” asked Beauvoir.
“Because I found the account.”
“How?” he asked.
Agent Cloutier glanced over at Ruth. “A little help from the crazy lady.”
Lacoste and Gamache looked puzzled, but Beauvoir’s brows cleared.
“The number on the back of the painting,” said Beauvoir.
“Yes. It wasn’t his password, it was the account number. He wrote it there so he wouldn’t forget it.”
She put in the numbers, and up popped the account. Under the name Baumgartner.
“Three hundred and seventy-seven million dollars,” Lacoste read off the screen.
“A motive for murder,” said Beauvoir. He stood up and placed a call. Ordering agents to arrest Bernard Shaeffer.
* * *
The sun was up and flooding into the offices of Horowitz Investments when Beauvoir arrived. He’d had time to shower and change and had asked Hugo and Caroline Baumgartner to meet him in Hugo’s office.
The office was as impressive as Hugo Baumgartner was unimpressive. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city. It spoke of success but didn’t drip wealth. It was restrained, while saying all it needed to say.
Jean-Guy took note. Wondering if he could make over his office like this.
The siblings sat side by side, like a princess and a toad. Caroline self-contained and elegant. Hugo squat and disheveled. No tailor could ever make him look tailored. But his bulging eyes were warm and encouraging, and he rested his hand on his sister’s.
“You have news, you said?”
“We do,” said Beauvoir.
He’d brought Agent Cloutier with him. He’d invited Gamache as well, but having also showered and changed, he had another meeting to go to. With the Premier Ministre du Québec.
The review board had come down with its recommendations.
Just before entering the meeting with the Baumgartners, Beauvoir had received a call from Gamache.
“I’ve had a message from Kontrollinspektor Gund in Vienna. There’s been a decision on the will.”
Beauvoir listened, and then, after wishing Gamache good luck, he hung up and entered his own meeting.
“You know who killed Anthony?” asked Caroline.
“Yes. Early this morning we arrested Bernard Shaeffer.”
She closed her eyes and exhaled. “Oh, poor Anthony.”
“But why would Shaeffer kill him?” asked Hugo. “Revenge for being fired? That was a couple of years ago.”
“You’d be surprised how long people can hold on to things.”
“Were they still seeing each other?” Caroline asked.
“Not that we can tell,” said Beauvoir. “Not as lovers anyway. But there’s evidence that your brother got him a job after he was fired. He’s working at the Caisse Populaire.”
“At a bank?” asked Hugo. “Why would Tony do that? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if you need to set up false accounts and hide money.”
Hugo opened his mouth to speak, then shut it and stared at the Chief Inspector.
“You have proof?”
Beauvoir nodded. “Shaeffer admitted he’d set up a shell company and a numbered account in Lebanon in your brother’s name, in exchange for the job and his silence. We found millions.”
Caroline looked at Hugo. “What does this mean? Anthony really was stealing?”
“It looks like it. Are you sure it was him, Chief Inspector? Maybe Shaeffer set up an account in Tony’s name but used the money himself. Tony found out, confronted him, and Shaeffer killed him.”
“We considered that possibility,” said Beauvoir. “That your brother actually knew nothing about it. There was also the strange issue of the amount in the account. Slightly over seven million.”
“Sounds like a lot to me,” said Caroline.
But Hugo understood. He was watching Beauvoir, his ugly face expressive. “According to the statements you showed me, he’d taken hundreds of millions. So where’s the rest?”
“Exactly.”
Beauvoir nodded to Agent Cloutier, who put Anthony Baumgartner’s laptop on the table and set it up.
“It took us a while, but we finally got into your brother’s computer.” Beauvoir looked at them. “I hope this won’t upset you.”
They looked at each other, and Caroline gave