“Dr. Brennan and I will be happy to answer all questions concerning my investigation, her examination of the remains, and the coroner’s finding,” Ryan said.

“Excellent. Then I’ll turn this meeting over to Mr. Schechter and Dr. Corcoran. Please let me know if there’s anything, anything at all, that you need.”

With a meaningful look in Corcoran’s direction, Walczak left the room.

“I’m pleased you speak English, detective.”

A subtle tensing around the eyes suggested that Schechter’s first words did not sit well with Ryan.

“Mais oui, monsieur.” Ryan’s accent was over-the-top Parisian.

“Mr. Jurmain requests clarification on a number of points.” Schechter’s tone indicated that Ryan’s humor was not appreciated.

“Clarification?” Ryan matched cool with cool.

“He is deeply troubled.”

“You have copies of our reports?”

Schechter withdrew a yellow legal pad, a gold Cross pen, and a large white envelope from his briefcase. I recognized the envelope’s logo, and the words Laboratoire de sciences judiciaires et de médecine légale.

“Dr. Brennan and I have prepared scene and autopsy photos to walk you through the investigation.”

Clicking his pen to readiness, Schechter gave an imperious wave of one hand.

Ryan spoke to me in French. “Let’s clarify this prick’s head right out of his ass.”

“Certainement,” I agreed.

Connecting my laptop to the projector, I opened PowerPoint, chose a file labeled LSJML 44893, and double-clicked an image. A wide-angle view of L’Auberge des Neiges filled the screen. Built of redwood, with carved and painted balconies and window boxes, the inn looked like something straight out of The Sound of Music.

Corcoran handed me the laser pointer.

Ryan began.

“Ms. Jurmain checked into L’Auberge des Neiges on twenty September, having reserved for two weeks. On twenty-three September she volunteered to other guests her intent to hike the following day.”