Still Life (A Three Pines Mystery)

'I'll give you a dollar each for them,' said Myrna.

'How about trading them for others?' It was a familiar and practiced dance. The two women engaged each other and emerged, both satisfied. Ruth had joined them and was reading the back of a Michael Innes.

'I'd make a good detective.' Into the stunned silence Ruth explained: 'Unlike you, Clara, I see people the way they really are. I see the darkness, the anger, the pettiness.'

'You create it, Ruth,' Clara clarified.

'It's true,' Ruth roared with laughter and unexpectedly hugged Clara in a grip that was disconcertingly strong. 'I'm obnoxious and disliked -'

'I hadn't heard,' said Myrna.

'It can't be denied. Those are my best qualities. The rest is window dressing. Actually, the real mystery is why more people don't commit murder. It must be terrible to be human. I heard in the Societe des Alcools that that great oaf Gamache had actually searched the Croft place. Ridiculous.'

They drifted back into the kitchen where dinner was on the table in steaming casseroles, ready for each to help themselves. Ben poured Clara a glass of red wine and sat down next to her. 'What have you been talking about?'

'I'm not really sure.' Clara smiled into Ben's kind face.

'Ruth said Gamache had searched the Croft place. Is that true?'

'He didn't tell you this afternoon?' Down the table, Peter snorted.

'Oh yeah, big to-do,' said Olivier, trying to ignore Peter slapping food on to his plate from the serving spoons. 'Turned the place upside down and apparently found something.'

'But they won't arrest Matthew, surely?' said Clara, her fork stopped halfway to her mouth.

'Could Matthew have killed Jane?' Ben asked, offering more chili con carne around. He meant the question for the whole group, but he naturally and instinctively turned to Peter.

'I can't believe it,' said Olivier when Peter failed to reply.

'Why not?' Ben turned again to Peter. 'Accidents happen.'

'That's true,' Peter conceded. 'Though I think he'd own up to it.'

'But, this was no ordinary mistake. I think it'd be only natural to run away.'

'Do you?' Myrna asked.

'I think so,' said Ben. 'I mean, I'm not sure how I'd react if I threw a rock, say, and it hit someone in the head and killed them, and no one saw. Can I say for sure I would admit to it? Don't get me wrong, I really hope I'd call for help and take what's coming. But can I stand here today and say for sure? No. Not till it happens.'

'I think you would,' said Peter, quietly. Ben could feel his throat constrict. Compliments always made him want to cry and left him deeply embarrassed.

'It goes back to what we were talking about Friday night. That quote of yours, Clara,' said Myrna. 'Conscience and cowardice are the same thing.'

'Oscar Wilde, actually. He was more cynical than me. I think that's true for some people, but fortunately not the majority. I think most people have a pretty good moral compass.' To her left she heard Ruth snort. 'Sometimes it just takes time to get your bearings, especially after a shock. When I try to see it from Gamache's point of view, it makes sense. Matthew's a skilled bow hunter. He knew there were deer in that area. He had the ability and the knowledge.'

'But why not admit to it?' Myrna wanted to know. 'Sure, I agree with you totally, Ben. At first it would be understandable for Matthew to run, but after a while wouldn't he admit to it? I couldn't live carrying that secret.'

'You just have to get better at keeping secrets,' said Gabri.

'I think it must have been a stranger,' said Ben. 'God knows, the woods are full of them right now. All those hunters from Toronto and Boston and Montreal, firing away like maniacs.'

'But,' Clara turned to him, 'how would a hunter from Toronto know where to stand?'

'What do you mean? They go into the woods and stand. There's not much to it, that's why so many morons hunt.'

'But in this case the hunter knew exactly where to stand. This afternoon I was at the deer blind, you know, the one behind the schoolhouse, just by where Jane was killed. I went up and looked out. Sure enough, there was the deer trail. That's why the blind was built right there--'

'Yeah, by Matthew Croft's father,' said Ben.

'Really?' Clara was momentarily off balance. 'I didn't know that. Did you?' She appealed to the rest of the table.

'What was the question? I wasn't listening,' admitted Ruth.

'Some detective,' said Myrna.

'Matthew's father built the blind,' said Clara to herself.

'Anyway, Gamache is pretty sure it hadn't been used for a while--'

'Blinds aren't generally used by bow hunters,' said Peter in a flat voice. 'Only guns.'

'So what's your point?' Ruth was getting bored.

'A stranger, a hunter visiting from somewhere else, wouldn't know to go there.'

Clara let the implication of what she said sink in.

'Whoever killed Jane was local?' Olivier asked. Up until that moment they'd all assumed the killer had been a visiting hunter who'd run away. Now, maybe not.

'So it might have been Matthew Croft after all,' said Ben.