All the Devils Are Here(48)

“He might not have known who his employer was. The bois de Boulogne, as you know, has become a dumping ground for all sorts of things.”

“True. Which is why you have cameras all over it. Do they show anything?”

But Armand already knew the answer. If they did, Dussault would have said something.

“We have cameras, but as soon as we put them up, they’re smashed.”

“So, once again, no footage?”

“No.” Dussault was quiet for a moment before asking his next question. “Your former number two, Beauvoir, works for GHS, isn’t that right?”

“It is.” Gamache’s tone was relaxed. Reasonable. But his guard was up.

“In fact, Horowitz helped get him the job,” said Dussault. “That was the drama this morning in the Lutetia.”

“Right.”

Gamache made up his mind.

His suspicions of the head of the entire Préfecture were so paper-thin as to be almost irrational.

He had to share some information.

“Does Luxembourg mean anything to you?”

“Luxembourg? The country or the garden?”

“Country.” Armand was watching him closely.

Dussault considered, then shook his head. “Why?”

“Beauvoir had an odd experience at work with his own number two.”

Gamache described what had happened.

“So you do suspect GHS,” said Dussault. “And that’s why you asked about the box. You want their annual report. Monsieur Horowitz is a financier, not an engineer. If he was studying their annual report, he must’ve been looking for financial wrongdoing, and obviously found something if he was planning to go to their board meeting. Corruption, fraud. Maybe money laundering. Luxembourg has traditionally been a harbor for that. Is that what you think?”

“I honestly don’t know what’s going on, but yes, I do think Stephen found something out about GHS, and was planning to confront them at the board meeting.”

“Which is what the killer was looking for in his apartment. The evidence. If it’s that important, we have to find it first. Do you have any idea what it might be?”

“I wish,” said Gamache. “We don’t even know if it was GHS he was after or some other company.”

“I’ve found out a little about GHS Engineering since this morning. But it’s surprisingly very difficult, even for us. It’s a multinational. Mostly engineering, but with interests in oil and gas, some manufacturing. It’s a private company, with emphasis on ‘private,’ and has friends powerful enough to keep their interests secret. If it was GHS Horowitz was tilting at, they’d make a formidable adversary.”

Stephen was famous for bringing a cannon to a fistfight. Was it really possible, Armand wondered, that he’d underestimate his opponent?

But he was in a coma and Alexander Plessner was in the morgue, so clearly he had. But Armand was also curious about Claude’s turn of phrase. Describing Stephen as “tilting at” GHS. That conjured images of Don Quixote, who tilted at windmills, mistaking them for adversaries.

Was Claude suggesting, however subtly, that Stephen was also mistaken?

“Is that why Stephen got your Beauvoir a job at GHS?”

“It’s possible. If that is the reason, he didn’t share it with Beauvoir.”

“So Beauvoir knows nothing?”

“Nothing except what I’ve told you.”

“The Luxembourg thing.”

“Yes.”

“Seems pretty thin. Could a business rival be setting GHS up? Knowing we’d investigate? But would they really go this far to discredit, maybe ruin, another company?” Dussault stopped and grimaced. “Sorry. That was stupid.”

Yes, it was.

Corporations that put profit before safety would not stop at killing two old men to protect themselves. That would be considered a slow day.

Dussault made a note. “I’ll pass along our thoughts to Commander Fontaine.”

“Poor her,” said Armand.

Dussault chuckled, then glanced at the clock. “You need to be off soon.”

It was now half past two.

“I do.”

As he walked Gamache to the door, Claude Dussault said, “You were a member of Joint Task Force Two, Armand. Non?”

Armand cocked his head and looked at his friend. How did Dussault know about his relationship with the elite Canadian force? But then, how did he know about Dussault’s background as a commando?

Because that’s what they did. If knowledge was power, both wanted to be the most powerful in any room. Neither carried a gun. What they carried was a brain, and in that brain was information.

“Non. I’ve trained recruits,” said Armand, his voice steady. “But that’s all.”

“In counterterrorism and hostage situations,” said Dussault.

“Correct.”

“And how to kill effectively.”

“Mostly how not to have to kill.”

“Far more interesting,” conceded the Prefect. “And challenging.”

With some surprise, Gamache realized that while he harbored suspicions of Claude Dussault, it was actually a fairly crowded harbor.

It seemed Dussault might have some suspicions, too.