Chapter Thirteen
Armand Gamache swirled the scotch in his glass. Around the table sat Dominique, Myrna, and Gabri.
“How did you know?” Dominique asked.
“It was really the only answer. They were the right age...”
“But a lot of people were the right age,” Myrna interrupted.
“True. But there was something else,” said Gamache. “His work was done. He planned to kill himself. He had no reason to live.”
They thought about that while Gamache waited. Finally, Gabri lowered his beer and smiled, but without humour. His sad smile did not reach his eyes.
“His work was done because he had found, not one, but two,” said Gabri. “He’d found the last two kids from the pickup.”
Gamache nodded.
“Angela and Mike had moved away and married. When they learned what had happened to their two friends, they realized that the killer would be after them. So they changed their names and moved here. Working for cash, so there’d be less of a trail.”
“How did James Hill find them?” Myrna asked, taking a fistful of nuts.
“His job at the Department of Records. He knew they’d married. But there were no records after that. They disappeared. Then Mike made a mistake. He applied for a social insurance number using his old name. He needed it to get the money left to him in his parents’ will.”
“The SIN number,” said Dominique. “Ironic.”
“James Hill knew Mike was somewhere in the area,” said Gamache. “But he didn’t know where. He booked into the Inn and Spa and started looking.”
“Not realizing that Mike was right there,” said Dominique. “Didn’t he recognize him?”
“Would you?” asked Gabri. “A guy changes a lot from sixteen to thirty-six. Except me, of course.”
“Of course,” said Myrna, rolling her eyes.
“James Hill did not recognize either of them,” said Gamache. “But they recognized him immediately. He’d been in his late twenties when the accident happened. He’d have aged, but not changed all that much. They realized Hill had probably killed their friends, which was why they had changed their names and moved to this tiny village. And they kept alert, watching for Hill. In case he ever found them.”
“What a terrible life,” said Myrna.
“When James Hill checked into the Inn and Spa, Angela recognized him and told Mike. They decided to act, before Hill could. They’re claiming self-defence.”
“But why did they hang him?” asked Myrna. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just knock him on the head?”
“They had to make it look like suicide. Angela had searched Hill’s room while he was in Three Pines and found his suicide note. Angela had been friendly with him. Then last night she mentioned that something was wrong with her car. She hoped he’d offer to drive her home. He did. But Tom Scott almost messed it all up. Tom heard Angela say her car had broken down, and he offered to drive her. She managed to put Tom off. When they got into Hill’s car, Mike was hiding in the back seat, and he strangled Hill. Mike was a big, strong guy, and Hill was older and slender. No match. Mike carried Hill through the woods, and together he and Angela got him into the tree.”
“And threw him off,” said Dominique. “I can’t believe it of Angela. She seems so, I don’t know, young.”
“Yes, she seems young, almost childlike,” said Gamache. “Then kind of thing can happen after a terrible event. She stayed the young girl she was when the accident happened. To grow up meant to be responsible. She couldn’t do that.”
They sat quietly for a moment, sipping their drinks.
“I should have seen it sooner,” Gamache said. “It would have been almost impossible for one person to lift Hill into that tree and hang him. The job took two people.”
“What will happen to them now?” Dominique asked.
“They’ll be tried for murder,” said Gamache. “Their lawyer will plead self-defence.”
And he might even get them off, Gamache knew. But they would never be free.