The Nature of the Beast: A Chief Inspector Gamache Novel Read Free

tank top, tight around her ample top, under a bright pink sweater. If a candy store vomited, Antoinette would be the result.
    “That’s Antoinette Lemaitre and her partner, Brian Fitzpatrick,” said Reine-Marie. “She’s the artistic director of the Knowlton Playhouse. They’re coming over for dinner tonight.”
    “We’ll be there too,” said Gabri. “We’re trying to get Armand and Reine-Marie to join us.”
    “Join?” said Isabelle. “Us?”
    “The Estrie Players,” said Myrna. “I’ve been trying to convince Clara to join too. Not to act, necessarily, but maybe to paint sets. Anything to get her out of that studio. She just stares at that half-finished portrait of Peter all day long. I don’t think she’s lifted her brush in weeks.”
    “That painting gives me the creeps,” said Gabri.
    “Isn’t it a bit overkill, though?” said Reine-Marie. “Getting one of the top painters in Canada to do sets for an amateur production?”
    “Picasso painted sets,” said Myrna.
    “For the Ballets Russes,” Reine-Marie pointed out.
    “I bet if he lived here he’d do our sets,” said Gabri. “If anyone could convince him, she could.”
    He gestured toward Antoinette and Brian, who were approaching the table.
    “How was rehearsal?” Reine-Marie asked, after introducing them to Isabelle Lacoste.
    “It would be better if this one”—Antoinette jerked her head toward Gabri—“listened to my direction.”
    “I need to be free to make my own creative choices.”
    “You’re playing him gay,” said Antoinette.
    “I am gay,” said Gabri.
    “But the character is not. He’s just coming out of a ruined marriage.”
    “ Oui . Coming out. Because he’s…?” said Gabri, leaning toward her.
    “Gay?” asked Brian.
    Antoinette laughed. It was full and hearty and unrestrained and Isabelle liked her.
    “Okay, play him any way you like,” Antoinette said. “It doesn’t really matter. The play’s going to be a hit. Even you can’t mess it up.”
    “That’s on the poster,” Brian confided. “Even Gabri Can’t Mess This Up.”
    He put his hands up in front of him to indicate a huge banner.
    Reine-Marie laughed and knew it might actually be true, and a good selling point.
    “What part do you play?” Isabelle asked Myrna.
    “The owner of the boardinghouse. I was going to play it as a gay man, but since Gabri already claimed that territory I decided to go in a different direction.”
    “She’s playing her as a large black woman,” said Gabri. “Inspired.”
    “Thank you, darling,” said Myrna, and the two air-kissed.
    “You should’ve seen their production of The Glass Menagerie, ” said Armand. His eyes widened as though to say it was exactly what Isabelle imagined it would be.
    “By the way, did you talk to Clara?” Antoinette asked Myrna. “Will she do it?”
    “I don’t think so,” said Myrna. “She needs more time.”
    “She needs distraction,” said Gabri.
    Isabelle looked at the script in Antoinette’s hand.
    “ She Sat Down and Wept ,” she read. “A comedy?”
    Antoinette laughed, handing her the script. “It’s not as dire as it sounds.”
    “Actually, it’s wonderful,” said Myrna. “And very funny.”
    “Some might even say gay,” said Gabri.
    “Well, time to go.” Isabelle got up. “I see the soccer game is over.”
    On the village green the children and adults had stopped playing, and were all looking toward the stone bridge across the Rivière Bella Bella where a kid was shouting and running into the village.
    “Oh no,” said Gabri as they watched through the bistro window. “Not again.”
    The boy paused at the edge of the green and gestured wildly with a stick. When no one reacted he looked around and his gaze stopped at the bistro.
    “Hide,” said Myrna. “Duck.”
    “God, don’t tell me Ruth’s coming too,” said Gabri, looking around frantically.
    But it was too late. The boy was through the door, scanning the crowd. And his bright eyes