Still Life

'His bruised son.'

'Yes. A bruise that's exactly like yours.'

'But he'd shot arrows before. Croft said only beginners got bruises like that.'

'True, but Croft also said he'd stopped hunting a couple of years ago, so he probably hadn't taken his son hunting since then,' Gamache reasoned. 'That's a long time in kid years. He was probably rusty. Believe me, that boy shot an arrow in the last two days.'

They had a problem and they knew it. What to do about Matthew Croft?

'I've called the prosecutor's office in Granby,' said Gamache. 'They're sending someone around. Should be here soon. We'll put it to him.'

'Her.'

Beauvoir nodded through the glass door at a middle-aged woman standing patiently, briefcase in hand. He got up and brought her in to the now cramped office.

'Maitre Brigitte Cohen,' Beauvoir announced.

'Bonjour, Maitre Cohen. It's almost one o'clock; have you had lunch?'

'Only a brioche on the way over. I consider that an hors d'oeuvre.'

Ten minutes later they were in a comfortable diner across from the station house, ordering lunch. Beauvoir put the situation to Maitre Cohen, succinctly. She grasped the pertinent details immediately.

'So the one with all the evidence against him won't admit it, and the one with no evidence can't stop admitting it. On the surface it appears the father's protecting the son. Yet when you first arrived, Chief Inspector, he seemed willing to let his son be charged with the crime.'

'That's true.'

'What changed his mind?'

'I think he was stunned and deeply wounded by his son's accusations. I don't think he saw that coming at all. It's hard to know, of course, but I get the feeling that had once been a very happy home, but hasn't been for a while now. Having me Philippe I think the unhappiness radiates from him. I've seen it before. The angry kid runs the home because the parents are afraid of him.'

'Yes, I've seen il too. You don't mean physically afraid, do you?' asked Cohen.

'No, emotionally. I think Croft confessed because he couldn't stand what Philippe must think of him. It was a desperate, even momentarily insane action designed to win back his son. To prove to Philippe he loved him. There also seemed to be an element of, what?'

Gamache thought back to Croft's face, across the kitchen table. 'It was like suicide. A resignation. I think he couldn't stand the pain of what his son had accused him of, so he just gave up.' Gamacher looked at his two companions and smiled slightly.

'This is all supposition, of course. Just an impression I got. A strong man finally broken and throwing up his hands. He'll confess to a crime he didn't commit. But Matthew Croft is just that; a strong man. A man of convictions. He'll regret this one day, soon, I hope. From what I saw Philippe is very angry and has his family well trained not to cross him.' Gamache remembered Croft's hand one the door knob then him taking it off. Gamache was under the impression Philippe had given his father hell for opening that door without permission in the past, and Croft had learned that lesson well.

'But why's he so angry?' Beauvoir wanted to know.

'Why is any fuorteen-year-old?' Cohen countered.

'There's normal anger, then there's anger that spills out all over everyone around. Like acid'. Beauvoir told her about the manure thrown at Olivier and Gabri.

'I'm not a psychologist, but it sounds like that boy needs help.'

'I agree,' said Gamache. 'But Beauvoir's question is good. Why is Philippe so angry? Could he be abused?'

He could. The typical reaction of an abused child, though, is to make nice to the abuser and attack the other parent. Philippe seems to scorn both, and have particular disdain for his father. It doesn't fit the profile, but I'm sure many don't. I can't tell you how many times I've prosecuted children who have killed their abusive parents. Eventually they turn. Though most don't turn to murder.'

'Could he be abused by someone else and be projecting?' Gamache was remembering Clara's comment about Bernard Malenfant. She'd said he was a bully and all the boys were terrified of him. She'd even said Philippe would probably admit to murder if it would avoid a beating by Bernard. He passed his thoughts on to Cohen.

'It's possible. We're just getting a handle on how destructive bullies and bullying can be. Philippe might be a victim of bullying and that would certainly make him angry, feel powerless, impotent. And he might become overly controlling at home. It's a familiar, sadly cliched, reality. The abused becomes an abuser. But we don't know.'

'That's true. We don't. But I do know there's no evidence against Croft in the death of Miss Neal.'

'Though we have his confession.'

'The confession of a man who isn't in his right mind. That can't be enough. We must have evidence. Sometimes our job is to save people from themselves.'

'Inspector Beauvoir, what do you think?'

This put Beauvoir exactly where he didn't want to be.

'I think there's reason to seriously consider prosecuting Matthew Croft in the death of Jane Neal.' Beauvoir watched Gamache as he said this. Gamache was nodding. 'We have Philippe's eye-witness account,' continued Beauvoir, 'which fits all the evidence, and we have strong circumstantial evidence that the death demanded a skilled bow hunter, which Philippe isn't. Croft described the scene perfectly, even showing us how Jane Neal was lying. And he knew about the deer trail. All that combined with Croft's confession should be enough to lay charges.'

Maitre Cohen ate a forkful of Caesar salad. 'I'll go over your reports and let you know this afternoon.'

On the way back to the station house Beauvoir tried to apologise to Gamache for contradicting him.

'Now, don't patronise me,' Gamache laughed, putting an arm across Beauvoir's shoulder. 'I'm glad you spoke your mind. I'm just annoyed you made such a strong case. Maitre Cohen is likely to agree with you.'

Gamache was right. Cohen called from Granby at 3.30 in the afternoon, instructing Gamache to arrest Croft and charge him with manslaughter, leaving the scene of a crime, obstruction, and destroying evidence.

'Jesus, she's really going after him,' commented Beauvoir.

Gamache nodded and asked Beauvoir for a few minutes of privacy in the Commander's office. Surprised, Beauvoir left. Armand Gamache dialed home and spoke with Reine-Marie, then he called his boss, Superintendent Brebeuf.

'Oh, come on, Armand, you've got to be kidding.'

'No, Superintendent. I'm serious. I won't arrest Matthew Croft.'

'Look, it's not your call. I don't need to tell you of all people how the system works. We investigate and get the evidence, lay it before the prosecutors, and they decide who to charge. It's out of your hands. You've been given your instructions, do it, for pity's sake.'

'Matthew Croft didn't kill Jane Neal. There's absolutely no evidence he did it. There's the accusation of a probably unbalanced son and his own confession.'

'What more do you need?'

'When you were investigating that serial killer in Brossard, did you arrest everyone who confessed?'

'This is different and you know it.'

'I don't know it, Superintendent. Those people who confessed were confused individuals who were fulfilling some obscure need of their own, right?'

'Right,' but Michel Brebeuf sounded guarded. He hated arguing with Armand Gamache, and not only because they were friends. Gamache was a thoughtful man and Brebeuf knew he was a man of his convictions. But he isn't always right, Brebeuf told himself.

'Croft's confession is meaningless. I think it's his form of self-punishment. He's confused and hurt.'

'Poor baby.'

'Yes, well, I'm not saying it's noble or attractive. But it's human. And just because he's begging for punishment doesn't mean we should comply.'

'You're such a sanctimonious bastard. Lecturing me on the moral role of a police force. I know damn well what our job is. You're the one who wants to be police, judge and jury. If Croft didn't do it he'll be released. Trust the system, Armand.'