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"You lived in old Quebec City, at number sixteen rue des Ramparts?"

Mundin stared

"And your mother used to read Charlotte’s Web to you and your sister, as children?" Beauvoir persisted He didn’t h with each question he was approaching Mundin, getting closer and closer

And Mundin, baffled, see even worse than what had already happened

The lights flickered as the blizzard threw itself against the village, against the bistro

"Where did you get your na at Old Mundin across the table

"What naave you that name? Your real name is Patrick So where did Old co I a, old son,’ he’d say ‘I’ll teach you about wood’ And I’d go After a while everyone just called me Old"

Beauvoir nodded "Old Old son"

Old Mundin stared at Beauvoir, his face blank then his eyes narrowed as so Terror, the Furies Loneliness and Sorrow And soinable

"Old son," Beauvoir whispered again "The Hermit used that expression Called Olivier that ‘Chaos is co, old son’ Those were his words to Olivier And now I say it to you"

The building shuddered and cold drafts stole through the roo, Old son," Beauvoir said quietly "The man you killed was your father"

"He killed his own father?" Clara whispered "Oh, dear God Oh my God"

It was over

"Mundin’s father faked his death," said Beauvoir "Before that he’d built the cabin and moved the treasures Then he returned to Quebec City and waited for spring, and a stormy day to cover his tracks When the perfect conditions came he put his coat by the shore and disappeared, everyone assumed into the St Lawrence River But in fact, into the forest"

There was silence then, and in that silence they iined the worst

"Conscience," said Myrna, at last "I pursued by your own conscience"