All the Devils Are Here(60)

Daniel nodded and put out his hand for his daughter to hold, while Reine-Marie took Florence’s.

As they strolled through the park, Armand told Zora all about Zora. Leaving out the worst bits, the nightmare parts, time enough for that later. He told her how brave her namesake was. And how loved. How funny and kind. And strong.

“Zora is a beautiful name,” said Reine-Marie. “It means ‘dawn.’ Every name means something special.”

“What does my name mean?” asked Florence.

“It means ‘to flower,’” said Daniel. “‘To blossom.’ And to blossom, you know what you need?”

“Candy?”

Her father laughed. “Non. Flowers need the sun.” He looked over at Zora. Florence followed his gaze and nodded. But said nothing.

“And maybe,” Daniel said to both his girls, “some ice cream. But first”—he leaned toward them—“a horse kiss.”

At that, they shrieked and ran away, laughing.

Armand watched his son be a father, and smiled. Yes, it was far more important he be a great father than a good son. Hanging back, he joined Jean-Guy. “We need to talk.”

Reine-Marie went across to the Marché des Enfants Rouges to get food for that evening, while Daniel and Roslyn took the girls home for ice cream.

Annie walked with Honoré back to their apartment, for a nap.

“Coming?” she asked Jean-Guy.

“Do you mind if I speak to your father?”

“Not at all. Don’t forget the key.”

“The key,” Jean-Guy said as he and Armand flagged down a taxi, “is a box of mille-feuilles. I’m not allowed in without them.”

Armand smiled. With Reine-Marie, it had been spicy sausage pizza.

“H?tel Lutetia, s’il vous pla?t,” he told the driver and closed the glass partition between them.

It was the first chance they’d had to be alone since Jean-Guy’s visit to his office at GHS Engineering.

“What did you find out?”

“Well?” said Claude Dussault. “What did you find out?”

“Nothing concrete, sir,” said Fontaine over the phone.

Dussault could hear it in her voice. The hesitation. “But?”

“But I think Monsieur Gamache has suspicions. He was courteous, but I don’t think he was completely open.”

“I see. How did he react to the file on Stephen Horowitz?”

“Angrily. It shifted the focus, as you predicted.”

“Good. Maybe he’ll focus on that and not so much on the investigation.”

“He did ask to see the box. I told him I didn’t have it. Why can’t you just tell him to back off, patron?”

“I tried. Didn’t work. Besides, best if we can keep an eye on him. I’m going to their place for dinner. I might find out more.”

After he hung up, Dussault sat back and considered. He’d initially been annoyed at Monique for accepting the invitation to the Gamaches’ for dinner that night. It would, at the very least, be awkward.

Now he thought it might be a good idea.





CHAPTER 20




Gamache sat in the back seat of the taxi and looked down at the printout Beauvoir had given to him.

The Luxembourg funicular project. There was a schematic and all sorts of technical language Gamache could not begin to understand.

Taking off his reading glasses, he looked at Jean-Guy. “Do you have any idea who was erasing all those emails and progress reports?”

“No, but obviously it was someone familiar with the system.”

“It at least confirms that GHS has something to hide. I wish we knew what was in those messages.”

Beauvoir smiled and hit play on his iPhone.

Both squinted in concentration as the video he’d taken at GHS came on.

“The emails?” Armand asked.

“And reports, oui. I recorded them as they were being erased.”

“Clever.”

But the taxi ride was too bumpy, the video already too shaky, the messages flashing by too quickly, for them to make anything out.

“Damn,” said Beauvoir, clicking it off. “Have to wait until we arrive.”

“Those messages, they were to and from Carole Gossette?” said Gamache. “Your boss? A senior executive? Is that—”

“Unusual? Very. She oversees some projects, but only the really big ones.”

“And she’s the one who quoted Auden, right? About the crack in the teacup leading to death. About something small, some everyday issue, that can be devastating. It was an odd thing to say. What were you talking about at the time?”

Jean-Guy threw his mind back. “About my job. Whether I was there to police.”

Gamache looked out the window as Paris slipped by. Thinking. “We don’t know what those messages are about. She might’ve placed herself on the project because she had suspicions.”

“That’s true,” said Beauvoir, brightening.

Gamache turned to him. “You like her.”

“I do. I can’t see her being involved in anything criminal.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” But he wondered how much they ever really knew anyone. Even someone they’d known all their lives. “They must’ve panicked when they realized you’d opened the files.”