“Does that remind you of anything?” Olivier asked. “A clown in a sewer?” Gabri suggested. “No, not him. Them.” Olivier gestured toward the three Sûreté officers on the village green. Reine-Marie cocked her head, staring. And then she gave a short puff of amusement and recognition. Isabelle. Jean-Guy. Armand. Three colleagues. Three friends. A trinity. Sturdy. Eternal. Together. “Three Pines,” she said. “Three Stooges,” said Ruth as she walked by and entered the bistro.
