By Louise Penny
Chaos is coming, outdated son. With these phrases the peace of 3 Pines is shattered. all people is going to Olivier’s Bistro—including a stranger whose murdered physique is located at the flooring. whilst leader Inspector Gamache is named to enquire, he's dismayed to find that Olivier’s tale is stuffed with holes. Why are his fingerprints everywhere in the cabin that’s exposed deep within the desolate tract, with invaluable antiques and the lifeless man’s blood? And what different secrets and techniques and layers of lies are buried within the probably idyllic village?Gamache follows a path of clues and treasures—from first variations of Charlotte’s net and Jane Eyre to a spiderweb with a notice mysteriously woven in it—into the woods and around the continent, prior to returning to 3 Pines to confront the reality and the ultimate, brutal telling.
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Chaos is coming, previous son. With these phrases the peace of 3 Pines is shattered. every body is going to Olivier’s Bistro—including a stranger whose murdered physique is located at the flooring. while leader Inspector Gamache is named to enquire, he's dismayed to find that Olivier’s tale is stuffed with holes.
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Additional resources for The Brutal Telling: A Chief Inspector Gamache Novel (Chief Inspector Gamache Novels)
He poked one fire vigorously and felt its warmth against his damp clothing. He felt numb, and not just from the creeping cold. ” Myrna and Olivier had nodded. What they saw was an elderly man in shabby clothing, staring up at them. His face was white, his eyes surprised, his mouth slightly open. Myrna had pointed to the back of his head. The puddled water was turning pink. Gabri leaned tentatively closer, but Olivier didn’t move. What held him spellbound and stunned wasn’t the shattered back of the dead man’s head, but the front.
It was a sound they knew well. Somehow different from other phones. It was the ringing that announced a death. Annie looked uncomfortable. “It’ll wait,” he said quietly. ” Jean Guy looked in. He smiled at Annie but his eyes went swiftly to the Chief Inspector. “Please. ” He turned back to his daughter, but by then David had joined them and Annie had once again put on her public face. It wasn’t so different from her private one. Just, perhaps, a bit less vulnerable. And her father wondered briefly, as David sat down and took her hand, why she needed her public face in front of her husband.
Sofas and large inviting armchairs sat in front of each fireplace, their fabric faded. Old chairs were grouped around dark wooden dining tables. In front of the mullioned bay windows three or four wing chairs waited for villagers nursing steaming café au lait and croissants, or Scotches, or burgundy wine. Gamache suspected the people milling outside in the rain could do with a good stiff drink. He thought Olivier and Gabri certainly could. Chief Inspector Gamache and his team had been in the bistro many times, enjoying meals in front of the roaring fire in winter or a quiet cool drink on the terrasse in summer.