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.
“Really?” Daniel’s surprise was complete and genuine. “But why wouldn’t he tell me?”
“To keep you safe,” said Reine-Marie.
They explained about Stephen selling his art collection and about the buy orders Mrs. McGillicuddy had found, going back years.
The investments Stephen was quietly making in diverse companies.
And the huge funds transferred into his account with the Banque Privée des Affaires.
“But why?” asked Annie. “What’s he doing?”
“We don’t know. We hoped you could help,” Armand said to Daniel.
“Me?” said Daniel. “You don’t think—”
Armand held up his hand. “I believe you. But you know the markets. Know how these things work. What does this sound like to you?”
Just then the concierge arrived and directed a worker to put up the easel and paper, while Armand handed him an envelope.
“Do you know which companies Stephen was buying into?” Daniel asked.
“Here’s what Mrs. McGillicuddy found.”
Armand picked up a green magic marker and, consulting the email from Mrs. McGillicuddy, he wrote the names of the companies in large letters on one of the sheets of paper.
“Anything look familiar?”
Daniel was scratching his beard and leaning forward. Eyes intense.
“I’ve heard of some, but there doesn’t seem to be any cohesion, any plan. And some are numbered companies. I can’t tell from this what they might be doing and why. Or if there’s any connection.”
“It looks almost like a shotgun approach,” said Annie. “Like Stephen didn’t really know what he was looking for and was covering as wide a field as possible.”
“Or hiding the one important buy among all the others,” said Daniel.
“That’s what we wondered,” said Reine-Marie.
Armand turned to Arbour, who was studying the list.
“No, nothing,” she said.
“We need more information on these companies,” he said, drawing a streak down the paper next to the names. “Can you do that?”
“Yes, absolutely,” said Daniel. “I can go into the bank. Use my access to get information on the companies. The numbered companies will be more difficult, but I can try.”
His father gave him a nod of approval, and Daniel felt something stir.
What he saw now wasn’t the man who’d made his mother cry. It wasn’t even the fellow in the kitchen helping prepare meals, or playing with the grandkids in the garden, or sitting by the fire reading.
What Daniel saw was a senior investigator, with a clear mind and a quiet, but complete, authority.
This was, Daniel thought, someone he could get behind. He had no beef with Chief Inspector Gamache.
It was Dad he had the problem with.
“Could Stephen have been going for a hostile takeover of GHS itself?” asked Annie.
“No,” said Daniel. His answer unequivocal. “Even selling everything he owned, he’d never be able to raise enough. And a company that guarded would notice. He’d never get away with it. But if it looks like Stephen was involved in the venture capital, should I tell Commander Fontaine that? It might be important.”
“I suspect she already knows,” said Armand.
“But how? I didn’t tell her.”
“Commander Fontaine would know,” said Jean-Guy, “because she might be involved.”
“What?” demanded Daniel and Annie.
Séverine Arbour raised her hands. “Wait. Are you saying you think the Préfecture de Paris was responsible for the murder of Alexander Plessner?”
“Not the entire Préfecture,” said Jean-Guy. “But a select few, yes. It’s possible.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“What makes you think they might be involved?” Annie asked.
“When your mother and father found Plessner’s body in Stephen’s apartment,” said Jean-Guy, “they interrupted someone.”
“Yes, I know.”
“What you don’t know is that what alerted them was a scent. Still hanging in the air. A man’s cologne.”
“It’s a very unusual scent,” said Reine-Marie. “Claude Dussault, the Prefect of Police, wears it.”
“Ohhhh,” Annie moaned. “That can’t be good.”
“And you suspect this Fontaine woman just because she’s his second-in-command?” asked Madame Arbour. “Does that mean every time this guy screws up, I’m also to blame? Just because I’m his number two?” She’d waved toward Beauvoir, who glared at her.
“It’s more than that,” said Reine-Marie. “We had the Dussaults over for dinner last night. Dr. Dussault told me that the cologne was a gift from his second-in-command, after they’d been to a conference together in Germany. According to Claude’s wife, Irena Fontaine bought some for herself, too.”
“So it could’ve been either of them in Stephen’s apartment,” said Daniel.
“Yes,” said Gamache.
“Or neither,” Madame Arbour pointed out.
“True,” admitted Gamache.
“Or both,” said Jean-Guy.
Daniel had gotten to his feet and was standing beside his father, examining the list of companies Stephen had, through Plessner, invested in.
Armand watched him for a moment, knowing he’d have to drop another bombshell.
“There’s something else. When we were at your place, for the interview with Commander Fontaine, she wanted to talk privately.”
They were all listening, though it was clear that he was speaking directly to Daniel.
“Yes?”
“She had a file on Stephen, information collected at the end of the war. It questioned whether he really worked for the Resistance or was a Nazi sympathizer, even a collaborator.”
“Come on. Anyone who knows him would know that’s ridiculous,” said Daniel.
“But most people don’t know him. Not personally. All they’d have to do is raise a suspicion, and the damage is done,” said his mother. “We all know how easy it is to commit character assassination.”
She glanced at her husband, the target of many such assassination attempts.
“We think Stephen went to the company and told them, or hinted at, what he’d discovered,” said Armand. “Demanded they stop whatever it is, and that he get to speak to the board. Whatever it is, it’s enough to ruin them. So they had to stop him.”
“They thought they could blackmail him into silence,” said Reine-Marie. “When that didn’t work…”
They all knew what happened next.
What Daniel didn’t know was why they were staring at him. All except Madame Arbour, who was looking out the window.
“I was at the archives this morning, to check into that old file,” said Reine-Marie, her voice ominously gentle. “According to their records, the dossier on Stephen was requested five weeks ago. By you.”
“What?” said Daniel, his face going an immediate, and vibrant, red. “I never did that. Why would I do that? I didn’t even know there were records on Stephen in the archives.”
His voice had risen, loud and high.
“We believe you,” said Armand.
“Wait a minute,” said Daniel, and they fell silent, allowing him to think it through. “The cop Fontaine had that file. She’s the one who showed it to you, right? Is she the one setting me up? Did she put my name on the request, thinking you’d believe I was also involved?”
“She might’ve been the one who did that,” said his father. “But they’d know we’d never believe it, and we don’t. They’re playing with us. Showing us what they can do, if they want. It’s psychological warfare.”
Jean-Guy turned to Annie. “In legal jargon that’s called a mind-fuck.”
“Yet more for Honoré’s vocabulary,” she said, and Jean-Guy laughed.
Daniel was pale. “They’re predicting our every move.”
“Not all,” said his father.