All the Devils Are Here(12)

He’d been a happy boy.

Until …

At the age of eight something changed. A wall went up between him and his father. At first it had been a very subtle step back. Always a polite little boy, there was now a formality. A frigidity. A caution that grew into a coolness.

That grew into a chasm.

Reine-Marie had watched as Armand tried to close the gap, but it only seemed to widen with each embrace.

Armand volunteered to coach his son’s hockey team until Daniel had asked him to stop.

He’d then driven the boy to early-morning practices, and sat in the stands with a wretched coffee from the vending machine to warm his hands. Watching.

Until Daniel told him to stop.

Tucking him in at night, he’d always, always told the boy that he loved him.

The words had been met with silence. But still, he’d never stopped, to this day, telling Daniel that he loved him. And he showed, in every way he knew, that he not only loved the boy but also loved being Daniel’s father.

Having lost both his parents, Armand wanted his children to have a mother and father who they could trust to keep them safe and always be there.

But it was never enough for Daniel. Something had torn. Some hole had opened inside him that could not be filled.

And yet Armand remained smitten with the boy. Reine-Marie didn’t think any father could love his children more.

Then came the teen years, and the real troubles. With the drugs. With the arrests.

As soon as he could, Daniel moved away. Putting a deep blue sea between them.

And then Jean-Guy arrived. Agent Beauvoir. Found in some basement S?reté servitude. Angry, arrogant. One insult away from being fired from the detachment and booted out of the service.

Chief Inspector Gamache had recognized something in the young man. And had, to everyone’s astonishment, not least Agent Beauvoir’s, brought him into homicide. The most sought after, the most prestigious department in the S?reté du Québec.

Armand had become Jean-Guy’s mentor. And more.

Jean-Guy had risen to become Armand’s second-in-command. And more.

And Daniel had never forgiven either.

Reine-Marie and Armand had talked about that. About possibly putting some distance between himself and Jean-Guy. For Daniel’s sake.

But Armand would not do it. Besides, it wouldn’t help. “Have you asked Daniel what’s wrong?”

It was the only time she’d ever seen Armand annoyed with her.

“You think I haven’t tried that? I’ve asked. I’ve begged Daniel to tell me what I’ve done. He just looks at me like I should know. I can’t keep twisting myself around, hoping something will finally satisfy him. Beauvoir’s a great investigator and a good man. He shouldn’t be punished because of my relationship with my son.”

“I know.”

What she also knew was that Jean-Guy Beauvoir wasn’t some replacement for their son. His relationship to Armand was far different. Far older. It seemed almost ancient, as though the two had known each other for lifetimes.

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.