“I was always good at tests,” said Gabri, picking up Clara’s glass. “No, wait. That was testes.”
He gave Clara an arch look and swept away.
“Fucking queers,” said Fortin, taking a handful of cashews. “Doesn’t it make you want to vomit?”
Clara froze. She looked at Fortin to see if he was kidding. He wasn’t. But what he said was true. She suddenly wanted to throw up.
TWENTY-FOUR
Chief Inspector Gamache and Superintendent Brunel walked back to the cabin, each lost in thought.
“I told you what I found,” said the Superintendent, once back on the porch. “Now it’s your turn. What were you and Inspector Beauvoir whispering about in the corner, like naughty schoolboys?”
Not many people would consider calling Chief Inspector Gamache a naughty schoolboy. He smiled. Then he remembered the thing that had gleamed and mocked and clung to the corner of the cabin.
“Would you like to see?”
“No, I think I’ll go back to the garden and pick turnips. Of course I’d like to see,” she laughed and he took her over to the corner of the room, her eyes darting here and there, stealing glances at the masterpieces she was passing. Until they stopped in the darkest corner.
“I don’t see anything.”
Beauvoir joined them and switched on his flashlight. She followed it. Up the wall to the rafters.
“I still don’t see.”
“But you do,” said Gamache. As they waited Beauvoir thought about other words, left up to be found. Tacked to the door of his bedroom at the B and B that morning.
He’d asked Gabri if he knew anything about the piece of paper stuck into the wood with a thumbtack, but Gabri had looked perplexed and shaken his head.
Beauvoir had stuffed it into his pocket and only after the first café au lait of the day did he have the guts to read.
and the soft body of a woman
and lick you clean of fever,
What upset Beauvoir most wasn’t the thought that the mad old poet had invaded the B and B and put that on his door. Nor was it that he didn’t understand a word of it. What upset him the most was the comma.
It meant there was more.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t see anything.” Superintendent Brunel’s voice brought Beauvoir back to the cabin.
“Do you see a spider’s web?” Gamache asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you see it. Look more closely.”
It took a moment but finally her face changed. Her eyes widened and her brows lifted. She tilted her head slightly as though she wasn’t seeing quite straight.
“But there’s a word up there, written in the web. What does it say? Woe? How is that possible? What kind of spider does that?” she asked, clearly not expecting an answer, and not getting one.
Just then the satellite phone rang and after answering it Agent Morin handed it to the Chief Inspector. “Agent Lacoste for you, sir.”
“Oui, allô?” he said, and listened for a few moments. “Really?” He listened some more, glancing around the room then up again at the web. “D’accord. Merci.”
Gamache hung up, thought a moment, then reached for the nearby stepladder.
“Would you like me . . .” Beauvoir gestured to it.
“Ce n’est pas necessaire.” Taking a breath Gamache started up the Annapurna ladder. Two steps up he put out an unsteady hand and Beauvoir moved forward until the large trembling fingers found his shoulder. Steadied, Gamache reached up and poked the web with a pen. Slowly, unseen by the people craning their necks below, he moved a single strand of the web.
“C’est ça,” he murmured.
Backing down the ladder and onto terra firma he nodded toward the corner. Beauvoir’s light shone on the web.
“How did you do that?” asked Beauvoir.
The web had changed its message. It no longer said Woe. Now it said Woo.
“A strand had come loose.”
“But how did you know it had?” Beauvoir persisted. They’d all taken a close look at the web. Clearly a spider hadn’t spun it. It appeared to be made from thread, perhaps nylon fishing line, made to look like a spider’s web. They’d take it down soon and have it properly analyzed. It had a great deal to tell them, though changing the word from Woe to Woo didn’t seem a move toward clarity.
“More results are coming into the Incident Room. Fingerprint results, which I’ll tell you about in a minute, but remember that piece of wood that was found under the bed?”
“The one that also said Woe?” asked Morin, who had joined them.