Penny uses the motif of speech and sound to illustrate the extent of grief and trauma for her characters, especially Gamache and Beauvoir. Gamache knows that any quiet will be interrupted by “the young voice. More familiar now than those of his own children” (52). This comparison underlines that the depth of his grief is precisely due to Morin’s own youth, his lost future. Throughout the investigation, his conversations with others are frequently interrupted by these reminiscences. Sometimes Gamache quotes Morin without providing context for why a phrase is on his mind, as when he asks Tom Hancock if he also believes “things are strongest where they’re broken” (322). Gamache’s discovery that Ken Haslam does not have a speech or articulation disability but instead deliberately mutes his powerful voice operates as a kind of contrast with the voice in Gamache’s head; no one knows that Gamache is constantly hearing Morin, not even Émile or Reine-Marie, just as few in Anglophone Québec know Haslam’s secret.

Beauvoir, too, is haunted by sound, as he recalls Gamache calling his name after he is shot during the rescue attempt. He dreads the ringing of telephones, instantly flashing back to the day Gamache took Morin’s call and the disaster began.