All the Devils Are Here
- Автор: Пенни Луиза
- Серия: Chief Inspector Gamache #16
- Год: 2020
- Язык: английский
- Год: St. Martin's Publishing Group
- ISBN: 9781250145253
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «All the Devils Are Here». Краткое содержание книги:
On their first night in Paris, the Gamaches gather as a family for a bistro dinner with Armand's godfather, the billionaire Stephen Horowitz. Walking home together after the meal, they watch in horror as Stephen is knocked down and critically injured in what Gamache knows is no accident, but a deliberate attempt on the elderly man's life.
When a strange key is found in Stephen's possession it sends Armand, his wife Reine-Marie, and his former second-in-command at the Sûreté, Jean-Guy Beauvoir, from the top of the Tour d'Eiffel, to the bowels of the Paris Archives, from luxury hotels to odd, coded, works of art.
It sends them deep into the secrets Armand's godfather has kept for decades.
A gruesome discovery in Stephen's Paris apartment makes it clear the secrets are more rancid, the danger far greater and more imminent, than they realized.
Soon the whole family is caught up in a web of lies and deceit. In order to find the truth, Gamache will have to decide whether he can trust his friends, his colleagues, his instincts, his own past. His own family.
For even the City of Light casts long shadows. And in that darkness devils hide.
“He must’ve come straight from the airport,” said Beauvoir.
A hotel official stopped Plessner, and they watched as the older man chattered, gesturing toward the hotel bar. The official nodded and watched him walk away.
“Your security?” asked Gamache.
“Yes. Private firm. Very good. Trained to be courteous, and to take down an assassin.”
Beauvoir raised his brows. “Has that happened often?”
“Once. And two kidnapping attempts. We also get a lot of protesters. Our clientele are rich and powerful. We take security seriously.”
“As I saw,” said Gamache. “Your people came up quickly, to see who we were.”
“Yes, well, not fast enough. We’re looking into that. Had you been intent on harm, you might have gotten away with it.”
But looking at the man, she understood how he and his wife got past security in the lobby. He managed to look both authoritative and trustworthy. Here was a man who naturally belonged.
It would take an extraordinary person to challenge him. And, once challenged, to stop him.
Now, the other fellow? She looked at Beauvoir. Handsome, she thought. But there was something almost wild about him. As though he was just pretending to be civilized.
Yes, he’d be stopped. Though if he wanted to get by, or through, their security, she had no doubt he would do so. But it wouldn’t be subtle and it wouldn’t be pretty.
On the screen, they watched Plessner take the same route as Stephen. A minute later he entered the suite.
Madame Béland put it into double speed. The beers arrived. The time stamp said 7:14 when the door opened again and Plessner stepped out. At the door Stephen said something.
They zoomed in.
“Looks like,” said Beauvoir, leaning close, “‘Good luck.’ But I can’t make out the rest.”
“Monsieur Horowitz is saying, ‘Text me when you have it.’” They looked at Madame Béland, who explained. “You get good at lip-reading in my job.”
“Stephen checked his phone a few times over dinner,” said Jean-Guy. “That explains why.”
He also, Armand knew, had his phone in his hand when he was hit.
It became even more frustrating that the chip was smashed and they couldn’t retrieve his messages. Had Plessner managed to get something off before he was killed?
On the screen, they followed Monsieur Plessner out of the hotel. And to his death.
Gamache’s brow furrowed. He always found it moving to see someone in the final images. Oblivious to what was awaiting them.
They continued to watch the door, but no one followed him.
On the exterior camera the doorman waved over a taxi and Plessner got in.
At 7:53 Stephen himself left. He’d changed into a slightly more formal suit. Before getting into a taxi, he checked his phone.
“Is there a way to know if the video has been tampered with?” Gamache asked.
The GM looked at him, astonished, but didn’t argue the point. “Well, yes. There’s a time stamp generator. If it was edited, there’d be a slight fluctuation when it was reset. The time would appear to be correct, but the video would speed up slightly to catch up with the piece that was removed.”
“Can you check, please?”
“It’ll take a few minutes.”
While Madame Béland did that, Jean-Guy brought out his phone and Armand nodded.
Leaving her in the living room, they went upstairs to the study.
Armand closed the door. Jean-Guy tapped his phone, and the video of the disappearing messages began to play.
Reine-Marie picked up the phone on the first ring.
“Annie?”
“No, it’s not time, Maman.” For the past week every time she had called, her mother asked, Is it time? “But can you come over?”
“Is everything all right? Are you all right?”
“Yes, but I just need to show you something.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Reine-Marie threw on a coat and left behind all the things that still needed doing for their dinner that night with the Dussaults.
The emails between Beauvoir’s boss, Carole Gossette, and the Luxembourg project engineer were ambiguous.
“See here,” said Beauvoir. “She writes, We need to be careful. We don’t want anything to go wrong. That could mean anything. Could mean there’s a cover-up.”
“Or it could mean the opposite,” said Gamache. “That she’s making sure all the plans, all the safety measures, are in place.” He shook his head. “Go back to the previous email, please.”
They leaned in. But it was blurred on Beauvoir’s camera.
“Looks like they’re talking about something unique.” Gamache pointed to a word. “Is that word ‘not’? Is she saying it’s not unique?”
“I can’t tell. But again, he could be referring to the weather for all we know. Or some government official who was actually helpful.”
Gamache took a long, deep breath. Then, exhaling, he took off his glasses and stepped away. “We need to send these to Lacoste back at the Sûreté. They can get a clearer picture.”
Just then Madame Béland called up the stairs. “Got something.”
Reine-Marie read the email from Annie’s office, about their dealings with Alexander Francis Plessner.
Then she raised her eyes to her daughter.
“What should we do?” Annie asked. “Should we talk to him?”
Reine-Marie shook her head.
“We can’t go to the police,” said Annie, her voice rising.
“No, of course not.” At least that much was clear. “But we do need to tell your father.”
“And Jean-Guy.”
“Yes. Do you two have plans tonight?”
“No.”
“We have guests. I’ve asked the Prefect of Police and his wife for dinner. We’ll call you when they’ve left.”
Gamache and Beauvoir stared at the screen.
“There,” said Madame Béland.
They had to watch it three times before seeing what she saw. The slightest fluctuation.
“If I slow down the time stamp, you can see it jumps one one-hundredth of a second. That’s where they made the splice.”
“On all the cameras?” asked Beauvoir. He was almost cross-eyed by now and had to open his eyes wide, then screw them shut just to see her properly.
“No. The ones in the elevators and outside Monsieur Horowitz’s suite haven’t been tampered with. Only the ones in the lobby, then into the Galerie lounge.”
“So what happened in the Galerie?” asked Jean-Guy. “Something did. Yesterday at…?”
“At about five o’clock,” said Madame Béland. “That’s when the edits were made.”
“Who could do this?” asked Gamache. “Who has the access and the ability?”
“Well…” She took off her own glasses. Now she looked both bleary and weary. “Obviously, I could. But didn’t. The videos are in a virtual library. Our security oversees all that. But unfortunately, where humans are involved nothing is completely safe and secure.”
“You have your own private security,” said Beauvoir. “Could they do it?”
“Well, yes. They’re trained in many things, including cybersecurity. It’s not just about muscle anymore.”
“Who trains them?” asked Beauvoir.
“Mossad. Spetsnaz,” she said with a smile. “They train the best, and once finished there, we hire them.”
“GIGN?” asked Gamache.
“Preferably, yes,” said Madame Béland. “We ask for them specifically because they already speak French and know Paris well.”
“Is there any way to know how much was taken out and restore it?” Jean-Guy asked.
“You know,” she said, “I’m not sure. This’s never happened to me before. I’ll try to find out.”