All the Devils Are Here(105)

“That makes sense, doesn’t it?” said Reine-Marie.

“Yes. What didn’t make sense is that the detailed results of that test were missing. What I did see was that GHS bought the mine and closed it.”

“But why buy it?” asked Daniel. “If it was already abandoned and closed?”

“Exactly,” said Madame Arbour. “So I began to look closer. What really triggered my suspicions were the containers coming back from Chile. The documentation said they were equipment, but the weights didn’t make sense, and the destinations didn’t either. They cleared customs in record time, then the containers moved from site to site, eventually ending up in smelters. You don’t melt down an excavator.”

“The mine had been reopened,” said Jean-Guy. “They were shipping back ore.”

“And hiding the fact,” said Madame Arbour.

“But why? What’s in the mine?” asked Daniel. “Gold?”

“Something even more precious.”

“Diamonds?” he asked, and when Madame Arbour shook her head, he said, “Uranium?”

Madame Arbour held up her hand to stop the cavalcade of guesses. “Rare earth minerals.”

Daniel leaned back on his crate. “Wow. Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. There was a mention, just in passing, in a report from a Chilean geologist. But it didn’t say what sort.”

“What’s a rare earth mineral?” asked Reine-Marie. “It sounds familiar.”

“The market went wild for them a few years ago,” Daniel explained, “when scientists realized what they could be used for.”

“Like?” asked Armand.

Séverine Arbour ran through some of the uses. Everything from laptops to medical equipment. From nuclear reactors to airplanes.

“And there’re experiments with next-generation telecommunications,” said Jean-Guy.

“Shit,” said Daniel. “If you could get in on the ground floor …”

“Yes,” said Séverine Arbour. “You could make a fortune. The thing with rare earth minerals is that they tend to be far stronger than other minerals. Last longer, are lighter and easily adaptable. Versatile. Pretty much an engineer’s dream.”

“What kind did they find?” Daniel asked.

“That’s the problem,” said Jean-Guy. “And that’s why we wanted to find the water test. We don’t know.”

“So you don’t know what it might be used for,” said Armand.

“Exactly,” said Arbour.

“Is that what they’re trying to cover up?” said Reine-Marie. “Not that they found the minerals, but what they’re doing with it? And that’s what Stephen and Monsieur Plessner found out?”

“I think so,” said Jean-Guy. “But when we went to GHS, Loiselle interrupted us.”

“But I thought—” began Daniel.

“He had no choice,” explained Jean-Guy. “Someone from SecurForte was with him. Someone way up the chain. It was clever of Loiselle to be there, too. He appeared to have informed on us, but I think he was playing the only hand he could. Solidifying his position with his superior while also protecting us. But there’s something else. I recognized the SecurForte officer. And so would you.”

“Me?” asked Gamache. “Who was he?”

“That man we saw on the security tape here at the hotel, having tea with Claude Dussault and Eugénie Roquebrune.”

Gamache absorbed that information quickly, then asked, “Did he tell you his name?”

“Yes. Thierry Girard.”

Jean-Guy Beauvoir wasn’t prepared for Gamache’s reaction. Rarely had he seen his former boss and mentor so surprised.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Thierry Girard?” Gamache asked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Madame Arbour. “Why? Do you know him?”

Instead of answering, Gamache was quiet for a moment. Thinking. Slowly leaning back until he rested against the concrete wall. His hand went to his face, and his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Thierry Girard used to be Claude Dussault’s second-in-command. He told us last night that Girard had left the Préfecture for a job in private industry. But I didn’t know it was with SecurForte.”

He looked at Beauvoir across the storeroom. As he had across so many rooms, across so many crimes, across so many corpses, across the years.

“They were both meeting with Eugénie Roquebrune yesterday,” said Jean-Guy. “It looks like he’s still Dussault’s second-in-command, only now in SecurForte.”

His voice was gentle, knowing that Claude Dussault and Gamache went way back. And that his father-in-law considered Dussault a friend.

Though evidence was now nearly overwhelming that that was no longer true.

It looked like Claude Dussault had quietly taken over as head of SecurForte, with Thierry Girard back as his loyal second-in-command. Running the day-to-day operations of the private army, while Dussault remained at the head of the Préfecture.

His power absolute.

Had these two men, individually decent, somehow warped each other? Found, fed, magnified, justified the worst in each other? Until the unthinkable became acceptable became normal?