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Arnot Goddamned Arnot And what that man was capable of even from prison Especially from prison, where Gahts evaporated before the sight that met his eyes How could he be fearful when faced with this?

Three Pines lay nestled in its little valley Wood smoke wafted from the stone chimneys, and maples and cherry and apple trees were in bud if not quite in blooardens, so the wide and graceful verandas Spring cleaning Villagers walked across the green with canvas bags full of baguettes and other produce Gaine Locally s and rich aromatic coffee beans all from the shops

He looked at his watch Almost noon

Gaations and each ti After all, what else did people really want except to belong?

He longed to stride down the reen and open the door to Olivier’s Bistro There he’d warm his hands by the fire, order licorice pipes and a Cinzano And maybe a rich pea soup He’d read old copies of the Times Literary Supplement and talk to Olivier and Gabri about the weather

Hoas it his favorite place on earth was so close to his least favorite?

‘What’s that?’ Jean Guy Beauvoir laid a hand on his arm ‘Can you hear it?’

Gaht breeze rustling the old leaves at his feet And he heard so else

A rumble No, more than that A muffled roar Had the old Hadley house co?

Ripping his eyes froe he looked around slowly until his eyes finally fell on the house

It stared back, cold, defiant

‘It’s the river, sir,’ said Beauvoir, s run-off Nothing more’ He watched as the Chief Inspector stared at the house, then Gahtly

‘Are you sure it wasn’t the house growling?’

‘Pretty sure’