All the Devils Are Here(134)

“As the head of it,” said Gamache.

“That’s not what my contract says.”

“But what’s written and what’s reality are often two different things, as you know,” Gamache said to Alain Pinot, before returning his attention to Dussault. “So you did as they asked?”

“We have to go, patron,” said Girard, tapping his wrist.

Dussault shot him an annoyed look, but otherwise ignored him.

“At first the requests were small. Fixing traffic tickets. Getting a wealthy client’s spoiled kid off a charge. And then it slowly increased. And I discovered something.”

“What?”

“That I didn’t care. That money, comfort, security, balances out all the rest.”

“They killed Clément Prévost. Your mentor. The head of the Préfecture. They murdered him. What exactly balances that out?” demanded Gamache.

“It was done,” said Dussault. “I’m a realist. There was no undoing it.”

“You were working for the people who murdered a man you admired,” said Gamache, his rage spilling out. “By then you must’ve known they were involved in other crimes, other killings. How do you justify that? Has the world gone mad?”

Dussault stood up and nodded to the guards, who raised their weapons.

Armand stepped in front of Daniel. “One thing I don’t understand. Who’s Séverine Arbour in all this? She’s working for you, or was. Why kill her?”

Dussault made a small gesture, and Loiselle and the other guards lowered their weapons a few inches.

“You’re so smart,” said Girard. “Who do you think she was?”

Gamache thought on the fly. Putting the disparate pieces together. “Her job was to kick over any evidence of the neodymium and the accidents. Make sure no one clued in.”

Girard was smiling.

I’ve got something wrong, thought Gamache. Something doesn’t fit.

He paused. Thinking. Thinking. Watching. Watching. Seeing.

Then his face opened in astonishment.

“Carole Gossette.” He could see by Dussault’s smile that he had it right. He nodded toward the file. “Those emails and notes are from her. To her. She wasn’t in on it. She suspected something was wrong. That’s why she agreed when Stephen asked that Beauvoir be hired. That’s why she hired Arbour, an accomplished engineer, and put her in the department charged with oversight. She knew if there was anything to find, Séverine Arbour would ferret it out. Madame Arbour wasn’t trying to cover up,” said Gamache. “She thought she was working for the police, to uncover wrongdoing.”

Dussault nodded. “I approached her, warned her about Beauvoir, and asked for her help. She agreed without hesitation. I am the Prefect, after all.”

“You’ve been setting Carole Gossette up,” said Gamache. “Should anything go wrong, it’ll be laid at her feet.”

“Someone has to take the blame, though I suspect she wouldn’t want to face that,” said Girard. “And might even take her own life.”

“In the archives tonight,” said Gamache, “when I confronted Arbour, she began to see the truth.”

“She called us,” said Girard. “That’s when we decided not to wait for you to find the documents, but to move in.”

“It’s almost eight,” said Dussault, and tucking the file under his arm, he nodded to the guards, who raised their rifles.

“Dad?” said Daniel.

“Wait,” said Gamache. “There’s something you’re missing. Something you don’t know. Stephen and Plessner tracked down one more piece of evidence, hard evidence. The piece of equipment made out of neodymium. The thing causing all the problems.”

“He’s lying,” said Dussault.

“I have proof,” said Gamache, trying without success to keep the desperation out of his voice. “They had it in their possession. How else could the nickels have gotten so strongly magnetized?”

“What’s a nickel?” demanded Girard. “What’s he talking about?”

“Nothing,” said Dussault. “He’s babbling. Trying to buy time. Kill him. Do it now.”

“If you do,” said Gamache, holding his hand up in front of him, “you’ll never find it.”

“There’s nothing to find,” said Dussault.

“Then why did you throw the coins into the fountain at Place de la Concorde? It’s because you wanted to go back and get them later. Keep them for yourself, as blackmail.”

“What coins?” asked Girard.

“The ones in my pocket.”

Gamache went to put his hand in, but Girard stopped him and gestured to one of the guards.

It was all Gamache needed. As soon as the armed guard lowered his weapon and reached out, Gamache grabbed him. Pulling the gun from his pocket he got off two quick shots.

Blood spread over Claude Dussault’s chest as he staggered backward and collapsed.

“Run!” Armand shouted to Daniel.

He heard the door slam just as a burst of gunfire hit the SecurForte guard he was using as a shield. They both fell back. The dead weight of the guard against him dragged Gamache to the floor.

As he fell, the gun bounced from his grip.