“This is a flower bed,” said Gamache, “not the Himalayas. Could something really be swallowed up in there?”
“Try it.”
The Chief Inspector walked to the other side of the flower bed. “Did you mulch here too?” he asked.
“Everywhere,” said Myrna. “Go on. Try it.”
Gamache knelt and dropped a one dollar coin into the flower bed. It sat on top of the earth, clearly visible. Picking it back up, he rose and looked at Myrna.
“Any other suggestions?”
She gave the dirt a filthy look. “It’s probably settled now. If it was freshly turned it’d work.”
She got a trowel from Clara’s shed and dug around, turning the earth, fluffing it up.
“OK, try it now.”
Gamache knelt again, and again dropped the coin into the flower bed. This time it slid over onto its side, down a small crevice.
“See,” said Myrna.
“Well, yes, I do see. I see the coin,” said Gamache. “I’m afraid I’m not convinced. Could it have been there for a while? It might’ve fallen into the bed years ago. It’s made of plastic so it wouldn’t rust or age.”
“I doubt it,” said Clara. “We would’ve found it long ago. They sure would’ve found it yesterday when they weeded and mulched, don’t you think?”
“I’ve given up thinking,” said Myrna.
They walked back to where Beauvoir was working.
“Nothing more, Chief,” he said, standing abruptly and slapping his knees free of dirt. “I can’t believe we missed it the first time.”
“Well, we have it now.” Gamache looked at the coin in the evidence bag Lacoste was holding. It wasn’t money, wasn’t currency of any country. At first he’d wondered if it might be from the Middle East. What with the camel. After all, Canadian currency had a moose on it, why shouldn’t Saudi currency have a camel?
But the words were English. And there was no mention of a denomination.
Just the camel on one side and the prayer on the other.
“You’re sure it doesn’t belong to you or Peter?” he asked Clara.
“I’m sure. Ruth briefly claimed it, but Myrna said it couldn’t possibly belong to her.”
Gamache turned to the large, caftaned woman beside him, his brows raised.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I know what it is and I know Ruth would never have one. I assumed you recognized it.”
“I have no idea what it is.” They all looked again at the coin sitting in the Baggie.
“May I?” Myrna asked and when Gamache nodded Lacoste handed her the bag. Myrna looked through the plastic.
“It’s a beginner’s chip,” she said. “From Alcoholics Anonymous. It’s given to people who’re just getting sober.”
“How do you know that?” the Chief asked.
“Because when I was in practice I suggested a number of clients join AA. Some of them later showed me what they called their beginner’s chip. Just like that.” She gestured to the bag back in Lacoste’s hand. “Whoever dropped it is a member of AA.”
“I see what you mean about Ruth,” said Beauvoir.
Gamache thanked them and watched as Clara and Myrna walked back to the house, to join the others.
Beauvoir and Agent Lacoste were talking, going over notes and findings. Inspector Beauvoir would be giving her some instructions, Gamache knew. Leads to follow while they were in Montreal.
He wandered around the garden. One mystery was solved. The coin was an AA beginner’s chip.
But who dropped it? Lillian Dyson as she fell? But even if she did his experiment showed it would just sit on the earth. They’d have seen it right away.
Did her killer lose it? But, if he was going to break her neck with his bare hands he wouldn’t be holding a coin. Besides, the same thing held true for the killer. If he dropped it, why didn’t they find it? How did it get buried?
The Chief Inspector stood quietly in the warm, sunny garden and imagined a murder. Someone sneaking up behind Lillian Dyson in the dark. Grabbing her around the neck, and twisting. Quickly. Before she could call out, cry out. Struggle.
But she would have done something. She’d have flailed her arms out, even for a moment.
