And yet Being wasn’t an apology. It wasn’t even an explanation. It just was. Like Charles Mundin.

“Ready?” Gabri appeared. They ordered and just as Gabri was about to leave Agent Morin showed up.

“Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” said Gamache. Gabri took his order, and just as he was about to leave again Agent Lacoste arrived. Gabri ran his hand through his hair.

“Jeez,” said Beauvoir. “They’ll be coming out of the closet next.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Gabri, and took Lacoste’s order. “Is that it? Are you expecting the Musical Ride?”

“C’est tout, patron,” Gamache assured him. “Merci. I wasn’t expecting you,” he said to Lacoste when Gabri was out of earshot.

“I didn’t expect to come, but I wanted to talk in person. I spoke to both Olivier’s boss at the bank and his father.”

She lowered her voice and told them what the executive at the Banque Laurentienne had said. When she finished her salad had arrived. Shrimp, mango and cilantro, on baby spinach. But she looked with envy at the steaming plate of Portobello mushrooms, garlic, basil and Parmesan on top of homemade pasta in front of the Chief.

“So it wasn’t clear whether Olivier was going to steal the money or give it back,” said Beauvoir, eyeing his charcoal steak and biting into his seasoned thin fries.

“The man I talked to believed Olivier was making the money for the bank. Still, he’d probably have been fired, if he hadn’t quit.”

“Are they sure all the money he made in the Malaysian deal was given to the bank?” Gamache asked.

“They think it was, and so far we can’t find any other account for Olivier.”

“So we still don’t know where the money came from to buy all that property,” said Beauvoir. “What did Olivier’s father have to say?”

She told them about her visit to Habitat. By the time she finished their plates had been cleared away and dessert menus were placed in front of them.

“Not for me.” Lacoste smiled at Havoc Parra. He smiled back, motioned to another waiter to clear and set a nearby table.

“Who’ll share a profiterole with me?” asked Beauvoir. They’d have to solve this case soon or he’d need a whole new wardrobe.

“I will,” said Lacoste.

The choux pastries filled with ice cream and covered in warm chocolate sauce arrived. Gamache regretted not ordering some himself. He watched, mesmerized, as Beauvoir and Lacoste took spoonfuls of the now melting ice cream mixed with pastry and the warm, dark chocolate.

“So Olivier’s father’s never been here,” said Beauvoir, wiping his face with his napkin. “He has no idea where Olivier lives or what he’s doing. He doesn’t even know his son’s gay?”

“Can’t be the only son afraid to tell his father,” said Lacoste.

“Secrets,” said Beauvoir. “More secrets.”

Gamache noticed Morin’s face change as he looked out the window. Then the murmur of conversation in the bistro died away. The Chief followed his agent’s gaze.

A moose was galumphing down rue du Moulin, into the village. As it got closer Gamache rose. Someone was on its back, clinging to the massive neck.

“You, stay here. Guard the door,” he said to Agent Morin. “You come with me,” he said to the others. Before anyone else could react Gamache and his team were out the door. By the time anyone else wanted to follow Agent Morin was standing at the door. Short, weedy, but determined. No one was getting by him.

Through the glass panes they watched as the creature bore down, its long legs pumping, awkward and frantic. Gamache walked foward but it didn’t slow, its rider no longer in control. The Chief spread his arms to corral him and as it got closer they recognized it as one of the Gilbert animals. A horse, supposedly. Its eyes wild and white, and its hooves spastic and plunging. Beauvoir and Lacoste stood on either side of the Chief, their arms also out.

At his station by the door young Agent Morin couldn’t see what was happening outside. All he could see were the faces of the patrons as they watched. He’d been at enough accident scenes to know that at really bad ones people screamed. At the worst, there was silence.

The bistro was silent.

The three officers stood their ground and the horse came straight for them, then veered, shrieking like a creature possessed. The rider fell off onto the grass of the green and Agent Lacoste managed to grab the reins as the horse skidded and twisted. Beside her Gamache also grabbed the reins and between them they fought the horse to a halt.