How the Light Gets In

“I didn’t think ducks hissed,” said Myrna.

“Are we sure it’s a duck?” Gabri whispered.

Thérèse and Jérôme wandered over, fascinated.

“Is that Ruth Zardo?” Jérôme asked.

“What’s left of her,” said Gabri. “She lost her mind years ago, and never did have a heart. Her bile ducts are keeping her alive. That,” said Gabri, pointing, “is Rosa.”

“I can see why Henri’s lost his heart,” said Thérèse, looking at the smitten shepherd. “Who doesn’t like a good duck?”

Silence met that remark by the elegant older woman. She smiled and raised her brow just a little, and Clara started to laugh.

The casserole was in the oven and they could smell the rosemary chicken. People poured their own drinks and broke into groups.

Thérèse, Jérôme and Gamache took Gilles aside.

“Did I understand correctly? You used to be a lumberjack?” Thérèse asked.

Gilles became guarded. “Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said the burly man. “Personal reasons.”

Thérèse continued to stare at him, with a look that had dragged uncomfortable truths from hardened Sûreté officers. But Gilles held firm.

She turned to Gamache, who remained mute. While he knew those reasons, he wouldn’t break Gilles’s confidence. The two large men held eyes for a moment and Gilles nodded a slight thanks.

“Let me ask you this, then,” said Superintendent Brunel, taking another tack. “What’s the tallest tree up there?”

“Up where?”

“On the ridge above the village,” said Jérôme.

Gilles considered the question. “Probably a white pine. They can get to ninety feet or more. About eight stories high.”

“Can they be climbed?” Thérèse asked.

Gilles stared at her as though she’d suggested something disgusting. “Why these questions?”

“Just curious.”

“Don’t treat me like a fool, madame. You’re more than just curious.” He looked from the Brunels to Gamache.

“We’d never ask you to cut down a tree, or even hurt one,” said the Chief. “We just want to know if the tallest trees up there can be climbed.”

“Not by me they can’t,” Gilles snapped.

Thérèse and Jérôme turned away from the former forester and looked at Gamache, perplexed by Gilles’s reaction. The Chief Inspector touched Gilles’s arm and drew him aside.

“I’m sorry, I should have spoken with you privately about this. We need to bring a satellite signal down into Three Pines—”

He held up his hand to ward off Gilles’s protests, yet again, that it couldn’t be done.

“—and we wondered if a dish could be attached to one of the tall trees, and a cable strung down to the village.”

Gilles opened his mouth to protest again, but closed it. His expression went from aggressive to thoughtful.

“You’re thinking someone could climb ninety feet up a pine tree, a frozen pine tree, hauling a satellite dish with him, then not only attach it up there, but adjust it to find a signal? You must love television, monsieur.”

Gamache laughed. “It’s not for television.” He lowered his voice. “It’s for the Internet. We need to get online, and we need to do it as … umm … quietly as possible.”

“Steal a signal?” asked Gilles. “Frankly, you’d be far from the first to try it.”

“Then it’s possible?”

Gilles sighed and gnawed on his knuckles, deep in thought. “You’re talking about turning a ninety-foot tree into a transmission tower, finding a signal, then laying cable back down.”

“You make it sound difficult,” said the Chief, with a smile.

But Gilles wasn’t smiling. “I’m sorry, patron. I’d do anything to help you, but what you’re describing I don’t think can be done. Let’s just say I could climb to the top of the tree with the dish and attach it—there’s too much wind. The dish would blow around up there.”

He looked at Gamache and saw the fact sink in. And it was a fact. There was no way around it.

“The signal would never hold,” Gilles said. “That’s why transmission towers are made of steel, and are stable. That’s absolutely key. It’s a good idea, in theory, but it just won’t work.”