Gamache had been to cocktail parties in some of the homes, a few receptions and at least one state dinner. But he’d never been into the one he stood in front of now. The stone was beautifully pointed, the wood painted, the iron work kept up and repaired.
As he stood on the stoop the door opened. He stepped in quickly, bringing the chill with him. It clung to him as he stood in the dark wood entrance but slowly the cold, like a cloak, slid off.
Elizabeth took his coat and he removed his boots. A neat rank of velvet slippers, some for men, some for women, was lined up in the entrance.
“Take whichever fits, if you’d like.”
He found a pair and wondered how many feet, over how many generations, had used the slippers. They looked Edwardian and felt comfortable.
The walls were papered in a William Morris print, rich, ornate, beautiful. Gleaming mahogany panels went a third of the way up the walls.
On the fine wood floors Indian rugs were scattered.
“Follow me. I eat in the morning room.”
He followed her into a bright and airy room, a fire lit in the hearth, bookcases along a wall,
“May I?” she asked.
“Please.”
She poured him a cup and he added a touch of cream and sugar. As he sat in a comfortable chair across from the sofa where she sat, he noticed books on the floor and three newspapers.
“What brings you to the Lit and His so early, Chief Inspector?”
“We’re getting closer to knowing what the books were that Augustin Renaud got from your sale.”
“That’s a little awkward,” she smiled slightly. “Our critics right. Most embarrassing. Did we sell books that should never have left us?”
Gamache looked into her eyes. They were steady, unwavering, dreading the answer, perhaps, but wanting to hear it anyway. As he watched her he noticed a few things, details that caught his eye. The faded and even frayed upholstery of the sofa and his own chair. A few floorboards heaved slightly, out of alignment. They could be easily nailed back to place. A handle missing from one of the doors of a cupboard.
“I’m afraid you did. They were Father Chiniquy’s personal journals and diaries.”
She closed her eyes but did not lower her head. When she opened them again a moment later her eyes were still steady but perhaps a little sad.
“Oh dear, that’s not good news. The board will have to be told.”
“They’re evidence now but I suspect if you speak with Monsieur Renaud’s widow she might sell them back at a reasonable price.”
She looked relieved. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
“But one is missing. From 1869.”
“Really?”
“It was one of the books we were looking for, one of the books Augustin Renaud makes reference to in his own journals.”
“Why 1869?”
“I don’t know.” And that was true, to a point. He actually had a very good idea why, but wasn’t going to talk about it just yet.
“And the other book?”
“Missing too. We’ve found the lot it was bought with, but it could be anything.” He put his cup down carefully on the tray. “Did you ever hear of a meeting in the Literary and Historical Society between Father Chiniquy, James Douglas and two Irish workers?”
“In the late 1800s?” She was surprised. “No. Irish workers you say?” Gamache nodded. She said nothing, but frowned.
“What is it?”
“It’s just unlikely the Irish would have come to the Lit and His back then. Nowadays, yes, we have lots of members who are Irish. There isn’t such a distinction, thank God. But I’m afraid back then there was a lot of animosity between the Irish and the English.”
That was the weakness, Gamache knew, about New Worlds. People brought old conflicts.
“But feelings aren’t so bad today?”
“No, with the passage of time things got better. Besides, we’re too small, can’t afford to fight.”
“The lifeboat?” he smiled, picking up his coffee.
“You remember the analogy? Yes, that’s exactly it. Who’d be foolish enough to rock a lifeboat?”
And what would the passengers do to keep the peace, wondered the Chief Inspector. He sipped his coffee and took in the room. It was faded and comfortable, a room he would choose to live in. Did she not notice, though, the worn fabric, the chipped paint? The small repairs adding up? He knew when people lived in a place for a long time, a
