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But the experts had told the ht to so many homes, so many solemn ceremonies, that had been worshiped, hidden, prayed around, treasured, had also been used to kill

The Hermit’s blood and hair and tissue were found on it as were his fingerprints As were the fingerprints of only one other

Olivier

And inside the sack? A carving the HerIt was si loneliness, of desire, of need It was clearly a carving of Olivier, listening And that carving told the else

Jakob’s sculptures had been worth hundreds of thousands, finally e for food and co h, Olivier had wanted ive hi in the sack

Jakob’s last treasure, his most precious possession

And Olivier wanted it

In a fit of rage and greed he’d taken the Hermit’s life, then he’d taken the beautiful and priceless murder weapon and the sack, and hidden them

Behind the fireplace Beauvoir now stared at

And once found, the sack with its carving started to speak It had only one thing to say and it said it eloquently, over and over Olivier had killed its creator

Between finding the carving and the murder weapon hidden in the bistro, as well as all the other evidence, there was no question what had to happen next The Chief Inspector had arrested Olivier Brulé for hter and sentenced to ten years Painfully, Three Pines had come to accept this terrible truth

Except Gabri, who every day wrote the Chief Inspector to ask that question Why would Olivier move the body?

"How’s the Chief Inspector?" Myrna asked, leaning her considerable body forward She was large and black A retired psychologist, now the owner of the bookstore

"He’s all right We speak every day"