All the Devils Are Here (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #16) - Louise Penny Page 0,100
saw was that his carefully laid plan would collapse. That he’d fail. But he’d never have thought any of this would happen.”
“Five weeks ago Daniel’s name was put on the archive request for Stephen’s war file. That’s no coincidence. Something happened. Someone noticed.”
Armand exhaled. “I think you’re right. Stephen miscalculated. As soon as they threatened him with that file, he knew he had to be more careful. Which was why when he came to Paris he stayed at the George V. Laid low.”
“But still they got him. Monsieur Plessner’s dead and Stephen’s in a coma. Oh, God, Armand, is Daniel in danger?”
“No. If they were going to hurt him, it would’ve been that same night they attacked Plessner and Stephen.” He took her hand. It was freezing cold. “They’re setting him up, but they need him alive for that. They won’t hurt him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. He’s safe. Especially if he can be convinced to go to Commander Fontaine and tell her about Alexander Plessner and the venture capital. That will prove to them he has no idea what’s really happening.”
Reine-Marie snatched up her phone. “I’m going to call and make him do it.”
But he stopped her. “Let’s get in a taxi. Call from there.”
Reine-Marie strode down the long corridor, almost breaking into a run.
“Hôpital Hôtel-Dieu, s’il vous plaît,” said Armand.
Reine-Marie had the phone to her ear and was listening to the ringing. Ringing.
Paris slid by, unseen.
She looked at Armand, who was watching her. “No answer.”
“Try again.”
She did. Still no answer. The hospital was up ahead. She called Roslyn, who confirmed that Daniel had left a couple of hours earlier, but she hadn’t heard from him. And no, she didn’t know where he’d gone.
“Armand?” said Reine-Marie.
“We’ll find him.”
His mind was racing. Where could Daniel be? He’d been so sure, genuinely certain, that SecurForte, or whoever was behind all this, needed Daniel alive.
Didn’t they?
Dear God, didn’t they?
The taxi pulled up to the entrance to the hospital. Armand was on the phone. He no longer cared if he was giving himself away.
“Claude? Armand. Can you tell me if there’re any reports of violent crimes in the last couple of hours?” He was pale as he asked, holding on to Reine-Marie’s eyes. “Accidents? Where?” He held up his hand to reassure Reine-Marie. “Merci. No, just checking. Merci.”
He hung up. “A woman fell off her bicycle and was hit by a car, but will recover. Nothing else.”
“But that doesn’t mean—”
“I know.”
“We have to find him. There must be a way.”
“There is.” Armand stared at his phone. About to do something he loathed. Something he knew Daniel would find hard to forgive.
But there was so much unforgiven already—what was one more violation?
He pressed the app. And waited, staring at the screen, as it changed to GPS. To a map of Paris. To the île de la Cité.
“But it’s not working,” said Reine-Marie. “It’s showing our location.”
“Oui.” Armand stared up. At the façade of the old hospital. “Daniel’s here.”
The cop at Stephen’s door let them in. Daniel was sitting beside Stephen’s bed. With one hand, he held Stephen’s hand. In the other, he held his phone.
And Armand saw the outrage in his son’s eyes.
CHAPTER 32
We need to talk,” Armand said to Daniel as soon as they’d returned to Stephen’s suite at the George V.
Jean-Guy was there and introduced his colleague Séverine Arbour.
They greeted her, but before Beauvoir could explain, Armand said, “Excusez-moi,” and turned to Daniel. “Come with me, please.”
Armand walked up the stairs, but Daniel stayed behind until his mother said, “Go. Please.”
His father had asked him, in the taxi over, if he’d gone to see Commander Fontaine, but Daniel had refused to answer. As he’d done since he was a child, when angry, Daniel clamped shut. Refusing to talk. To make eye contact. To acknowledge anything and anyone.
Now he slowly followed his father up the stairs while the others exchanged glances.
Honoré was having a nap in the second bedroom, and Roslyn had taken the girls into the courtyard garden of the hotel for afternoon tea.
Those in the living room tried not to listen, but still, they heard enough.
“What?” demanded Daniel when they got into Stephen’s bedroom and his father had closed the door.
“What?” said Armand, turning to face him. “One man is dead, another probably dying. We’re in the middle of God knows what scale of crime, and you’re sulking?”
“Sulking? You spied on me. You tracked my movements. My own father suspects me of having something to do with all this shit. I’m not sulking,