All the Devils Are Here(100)

“AFP,” she read as she placed it on the table. “Monsieur Horowitz’s writing?”

“Yes,” said Gamache.

“Agence France-Presse?”

“Alexander Francis Plessner. We think the dates are when Stephen and Plessner met. He made the same notation, AFP, in his agenda this past Friday, the day Plessner arrived in Paris.” He handed the slip to Daniel. “Do the dates mean anything to you?”

Daniel studied them and shook his head. “They’re not even in chronological order. They go from oldest to most recent, except that final one. It goes back four years.”

“Might mean nothing,” said Armand, tucking it back under the flap in the agenda. “Now, the GHS Engineering meeting tomorrow,” he said, consulting Stephen’s notes. “Stephen’s not on the board, so how would he get into the meeting?”

“He wouldn’t,” said Daniel. “Couldn’t.”

“And yet,” said Gamache, “that seems to have been his plan. So how would he do it?”

Daniel was shaking his head. “No, it’s impossible. He’d have to get a seat on the board.”

“And how would he do that?” asked Armand. “There must be a way.”

Daniel was staring into space. Thinking.

So like his father, thought Jean-Guy.

He himself tried so hard to emulate Gamache, it seemed a shame, a waste, that someone who did it naturally didn’t value it.

“Board members of corporations are often rewarded with perks,” said Daniel, finally. “Luxury trips to meetings, that sort of thing. And sometimes, rarely but sometimes, they’d be enticed with shares in the company. Nonvoting shares, so they’d never be able to band together and get control, but the shares would still be valuable enough to make them all wealthy.”

“And loyal,” said Annie.

“And blind,” said Reine-Marie. “Hard to see wrongdoing over a pile of money.”

“So Stephen would have to buy shares off a board member?” asked Jean-Guy.

“Yes.”

“Would they know?” asked Reine-Marie.

Daniel thought about it. “The individual board member would have to know, but the chair of the board, the CEO, the majority owner, wouldn’t necessarily. Not if the shares remained in the board member’s name until the last minute.”

“That’s interesting,” said Armand. “According to Mrs. McGillicuddy, Stephen transferred a huge amount of money into his account at your bank a few weeks ago. It’s unfrozen tomorrow morning.”

“Just before the board meeting,” said Annie.

Daniel nodded a few times, his brows drawn together in concentration. “It’s possible.”

“Why would someone agree to sell their shares and give up their seat?” asked Séverine Arbour.

“Money,” said Daniel. “Why else? He’d offer to pay twice, five times, ten times what the shares are worth.”

“Cash raised by, let’s say, the sale of a priceless art collection,” said Jean-Guy.

That sat on the gleaming table. They finally seemed to be getting somewhere.

“There is,” Daniel began, “another reason a board member might sell.”

“What’s that?” asked Reine-Marie.

“Stephen might’ve made it unbelievably attractive to sell, and unbelievably unattractive not to. A push-pull. Suppose he approached a member of the board and told them what he knew. What he was about to reveal. Something so compromising it could not only bring about the collapse of the company, it would ruin anyone connected with it.”

“And within days their shares would be worthless anyway,” said Armand.

“But how would Stephen know that person wouldn’t go directly to Madame Roquebrune?” asked Séverine Arbour.

“He’d have to know the board member personally or have some information that would make him think this person would agree,” said Daniel. “The devil you know.”

“Oui,” said Armand.

“Who’s on the board?” Daniel grabbed the annual report and flipped to that section. “Holy shit.”

“What?” demanded Annie.

Daniel passed it to his sister and looked at his parents.

“Have you seen? Former Presidents, Prime Ministers. Emirs. Generals. She’s a former Secretary-General of the UN. And this one’s a Nobel Peace Prize winner. Two media moguls. It’s a who’s who. And all respected, or, well, mostly respected.”

“All with a great deal to lose if, as you said, it comes out that they’ve been propping up a corrupt conglomerate,” said Armand.

“Collaborators,” said Reine-Marie.

“So,” said Annie. “Which of them sold his or her stake in the company to Stephen?”

“We don’t know that’s what really happened,” Gamache cautioned.

There was silence. No answer was possible, yet.

“We have news, too,” said Beauvoir. “Something I didn’t tell you.” He turned to Annie. “You’re not going to like this. When I left here a couple hours ago, I was pretty sure that man was back, watching us.”

“The SecurForte guard? The one you chased last night?”