with Hugo, but you didn’t. Your money was first with Anthony, but something made you take it away from him. What was it?”
His voice was reasonable. Not betraying the fact he’d just cornered her.
“Anthony and I had a falling-out,” she said.
“About what?”
“Does it matter?” asked Hugo.
“Do you know why she moved her money from your brother to you?” Gamache asked, turning his considerable attention to Hugo, who immediately regretted saying anything.
“It was her decision. I had nothing to do with it. And I certainly didn’t poach her.”
“That wasn’t my question,” said Gamache. Though it was an interesting answer.
“Sir?”
Agent Cloutier had returned. She was holding her phone to her palm, muffling any sound.
“Not now,” said Beauvoir. “Wait for us in the living room.”
“Yessir.”
She left, holding the phone in front of her as though it might explode in her hands.
“Now.” Beauvoir turned back to the Baumgartners. “Chief Superintendent Gamache asked you a question.”
“I don’t know why the account was transferred to me,” said Hugo.
“You didn’t ask?” asked Gamache. Then he turned to Caroline. “You didn’t tell him?” He stared at her. “Of course you did. We’re going to find out. Probably best we hear it from you.”
“You tell him,” Caroline said to Hugo. “You can explain it.”
“Fine.” Hugo took a deep breath. “It wasn’t a falling-out. That’s just what we told anyone who asked. Three years ago my brother had his license to trade suspended.”
“Why?” asked Beauvoir.
“The man he’d been having the affair with was the assistant to a senior partner. That assistant stole money from some clients. Tony caught it and told the firm. The money was put back, the assistant fired, and Tony was kept on, but they suspended his license.”
“Why? If he’d done nothing wrong?”
Beauvoir glanced at Gamache, who was quietly listening.
“Exactly, Inspector,” said Adrienne. “Exactly what we thought. He’d done everything right, but still they came down on him.”
“Why?” asked Beauvoir again.
Hugo was shaking his head and shrugged. He was slouched over and looked less like a garden gnome and more like a gargoyle.
“As with most things, it was political. Internal politics in his company. The partner didn’t want to be accused of using bad judgment in hiring the assistant, so they shifted the blame to Tony. Said it was gross negligence. That he’d given the assistant information on clients that he shouldn’t have.”
“By having printouts at home?” suggested Beauvoir.
“I don’t know. All I know is that they made an example of him.”
“So he was punished?” asked Beauvoir.
“Yes. After that his career was pretty much over, at least internally. He’d never be promoted to partner. Tony stayed on the accounts, but the trades were done by someone else in the firm. He’d done nothing wrong, but still they suspended and humiliated him.”
Again Beauvoir glanced quickly at Gamache, to see his reaction to this. Then away.
“And that’s why you moved your accounts?” Beauvoir asked Caroline.
“I didn’t want to, but Anthony insisted. He thought they were better with Hugo, who could both advise and trade.”
“And were they?” Gamache asked. Seeing the blank look on Caroline’s face, he clarified. “Better?”
“I think so,” she said, glancing at Hugo.
“My brother knew the market well, Chief Superintendent. The truth is, while I’m good, Tony was better. It was shitty that his license to trade was pulled.”
“Did he see it that way?” asked Beauvoir. “Did he hold a grudge?”
“No,” said Hugo. “He was grateful to the partners for being discreet. They could’ve made a public announcement. They could’ve fired him. I thought they were shits, but Tony was loyal.”
“Merci,” said Beauvoir. “Was your brother in a relationship right now?”
“Not that I know of,” said Caroline.
“Do you know this Bernard’s last name?”
They shook their heads.
“The less I knew about him the better,” said Adrienne when Beauvoir turned to her.
“Is there anything we should know? Anyone you can think of who might’ve wanted Monsieur Baumgartner gone?”
They thought about that and again shook their heads.
“You stayed behind with your brother after the reading of the will,” Gamache said to Hugo. “Is that right?”
“Yes. We often had dinner together. Two bachelors. I brought the wine and Tony cooked.”
He lowered his eyes, perhaps, Gamache thought, the reality of his brother’s death and all that had changed being brought home to him.
“What did you talk about?”
Hugo threw his mind back. In time it wasn’t all that long ago, but measured in events, it was an eternity.
“We talked about Mom. About the Baroness. She was a one-off.” Hugo gave his pumpkin grin. “We talked about how much we miss her.”
“I do too,”