“Look,” Tracey said as he followed Gamache into the kitchen, “it wasn’t much of a marriage, but she did her thing, I did mine. Why would I kill her?” “Why would you kill him?” Gamache pointed to the old dog, still lying by the warm stove. “Because he’s no use anymore. He can’t hunt and isn’t gonna guard the place. He just eats and shits. Gonna get a new dog. A better dog.”
