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.
They belonged together.
“Daniel loves you, Armand.” She squeezed his hand. “I know he does. Give him time.”
Armand had dropped his head, then raised it. “I’m sorry I was short with you. I just…”
“Oui.”
As the years went by, and the grandchildren were born, he and Daniel had grown closer. Armand wondered if becoming a father himself had softened Daniel toward his own father. Made him forgive whatever trespass had happened.
There was still, he could sense, a small distance. It was as though there was a thin strand of barbed wire between them, so that he could only get so close before feeling the jabs.
But Armand kept trying, and the distance had diminished. Until, finally, it was imperceptible. No larger than a slight crack in a teacup.
Reine-Marie watched the two in the bistro. Leaning toward each other. And she dared hope.
Down the table, Jean-Guy and Annie were still talking with Stephen.
“What do you know, sir, about Luxembourg?”
“Luxembourg?” asked Stephen, leaning forward and checking his phone.
“You expecting a call?” asked Annie.
“No.”
Just then their dinners arrived.
Merlu Breton for Stephen. The tender whitefish was surrounded by baby potatoes, grilled beets, and a delicate sauce.
“That’s very light,” said Annie as her massive steak frites arrived, with its sauce béarnaise.
“I’m saving myself for the rice pudding,” explained Stephen.
“There’s a project in Luxembourg,” said Jean-Guy as his own steak frites arrived. “A funicular. But I’m having trouble understanding the engineering reports.”
Stephen nodded. “So do I. I don’t even try anymore. When I invest in an engineering company or project, I just read the emails between the project managers and home office. They’re much more illuminating.”
He put down his knife and fork and looked at the young man. “Has something in this Luxembourg project caught your interest?”
Jean-Guy frowned as he thought. “Non.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
The steely blue eyes glared at Jean-Guy, and his mind went blank. It was like looking down the barrel of a shotgun.
“Then why are we talking about it?” demanded Stephen. “You must’ve learned the dark art of banality from your former boss.”
Annie laughed, and even Jean-Guy gave a snort of amusement as all three looked down the table.
Armand was focused on Daniel and apparently hadn’t heard.
But Daniel had. Not the words, but the laughter. He shot a glance their way. And realized they were looking, and laughing, at him.
“So,” said Daniel, breaking off his conversation with his father to speak to Stephen at the other end of the table. “We know Mom and Dad came to see Annie and Jean-Guy. But what brings you to Paris?”
Armand felt the glancing blow. A flesh wound, but a wound nevertheless.
“I came to Paris for meetings,” said Stephen. “Arrived yesterday. Timed it to be here when the baby arrives, I hope.” He placed his hand over Annie’s, then gave Daniel a penetrating look. “Your parents and I also came to see you and Roslyn and the girls.”
And Daniel colored. But did not apologize.
“Now,” Stephen said, glancing around the table, “have I ever told you about how your father—”
“Planned to propose to Mom?” said Annie. “Never. What happened?”
Armand just shook his head and grimaced.
“A toast,” said Stephen, raising his glass. “To The Gates of Hell.”
They clinked glasses, and Stephen caught Armand’s eye. There was amusement and genuine happiness there, Armand was glad to see. But also a warning.
The old trip wire, the barbed wire, was still in place after all.
“Really,” said Reine-Marie once the laughter died down. “The better question is where your father took me for our honeymoon.”
“I assumed it was here in Paris,” said Annie.
“I think we should order dessert,” said Armand, and tried to get Margaux’s attention.
“Non, not Paris,” said Reine-Marie.
“Manoir Bellechasse?” asked Daniel.
“Rice pudding, anyone?” asked Armand, putting on his reading glasses and lowering his head to the menu.
“Non. Shall you tell them, or should I?” Reine-Marie asked her husband.
“Why didn’t we ever think to ask?” Annie asked her brother.
“Too busy laughing at the proposal,” he said. “Attention diverted. Now you have to tell us.”
But once again their attention was diverted, this time by dessert.
Daniel and Roslyn shared the huge portion of rice pudding with its drizzle of salted caramel.
Annie ordered her own pudding and fiercely defended it from Jean-Guy, who ended up sharing Stephen’s.
Reine-Marie and Armand, too jet-lagged to eat any more, just watched.
When the bill came, Armand reached for it, but Stephen took it instead.
It was one of the rare times Stephen picked up a bill, and Armand looked at him questioningly. But the elderly man just smiled and left, Armand could see, an enormous tip.
The night air was refreshing after the warmth and close atmosphere of the bistro, and revived Armand and Reine-Marie a little. Though both longed for their bed.
By habit and silent agreement, the family headed south, crossing familiar streets, passing familiar shops, on their way to the Palais-Royal.
It was the walk they always took after dinner at Juveniles. It gave them the impression they were working off the meal they’d just had. Though they could walk to Versailles and still not work off the rice pudding.
Annie and Jean-Guy, Daniel and Roslyn were up ahead, pausing to look in shop windows.
Armand and Reine-Marie were about to follow Stephen across rue de Richelieu when Reine-Marie asked, “What time is it?”
Armand checked his watch. “Almost eleven.”
They turned toward the Tour Eiffel, and sure enough, as they watched, it lit up in the distance, sparkling.
“Look at that,” said Armand, with a sigh, tipping his head back.
Stephen paused on his way across the street and looked up from his phone.
A delivery van, half a block away, had stopped to let him cross.
It started to move. Slowly. Then it picked up speed. Moving quickly now. Armand looked away from the glittering tower just in time to see what was happening. What was about to happen.
He raised his hand and shouted a warning.
But it was too late. There was a thud.
And the vehicle sped away.
Jean-Guy took off after it as Armand ran to Stephen. “Call an ambulance!”
Reine-Marie stepped into the middle of the street, her arms up and waving. To protect Armand and Stephen from the oncoming vehicles.
Armand fell to his knees and, turning to Daniel, he yelled, “Help your mother.”
And watched as Daniel backed away.
“Mamma,” Annie screamed, and Armand turned just in time to see a car skid to a stop within a foot of Reine-Marie. So close she put her hands on the warm hood.
“Reine-Marie?” Armand shouted.
“I’m fine.”
“I’m calling for help,” yelled Annie.
Armand turned back to Stephen. His hands hovered over the still body of his godfather. Not daring to turn him over, for fear of doing more damage. If that was even possible.
“No, no, no,” he whispered. “Please, God, no.”
He could see blood on the pavement, and Stephen’s glasses and keys and shoes flung about.
Stephen’s legs were at an unnatural angle. His head was obscured by an arm.
Armand felt for a pulse. It was there. Light, wavering.