All the Devils Are Here (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #16) - Louise Penny Page 0,121

under control. “You asked for this meeting before you took Daniel. You want something.”

Dussault raised his brows. Gamache had recovered his senses far faster than he’d expected.

“There is one possible way out of this.”

Gamache recognized what had just happened. It was a common technique. Scare, threaten, raise the pressure and the stakes until the person was out of their mind with terror.

Then offer them a way out.

Even as he recognized it, he also recognized that it worked. He was terrified and he was desperate. And he was listening.

“How?”

“There’s something they want. Something your godfather has.”

“What Thierry Girard was looking for in Stephen’s apartment. Something to do with the neodymium mine.”

Dussault pressed his lips together.

Armand could see that Dussault hadn’t expected him to know so much. This was not working out as Dussault had planned. But neither was it going as Armand had hoped.

Both had delivered punches. And now both were reeling.

But Armand knew he was by far the more bruised. Dussault had Daniel. And therefore Dussault had him.

But Claude had said there was a chance.

“You want me to find whatever evidence Stephen’s hidden. That’s why you’ve taken Daniel. To make sure I do it.”

“Added incentive, yes. It needs to be found before tomorrow morning’s board meeting.”

“And if I do?”

“I think I can convince them to release your son, and let you all leave Paris.”

Armand stared at his feet. Then, looking up, he gave a small nod. As though he believed him. “I’ll need to see Daniel.”

Dussault brought out his iPhone.

“Non. I mean in person. There must be”—the familiar phrase Armand had used so often in hostage negotiations now stuck in his throat, so that for a moment he tasted vomit—“proof of life.”

Dussault considered the man in front of him. “Follow me.”

He turned and walked briskly away from the ghosts of the Place de la Concorde.

They walked for ten minutes, in silence, Armand Gamache following Dussault along boulevard Saint-Germain. Past the young lovers and elderly men and women arm in arm.

Though one elderly woman caught his eye. And smiled reassuringly. As though she knew. That all would be well.

Daniel’s father clung to the look in those clear and kindly eyes long after she was gone. He knew it was an illusion, a delusion, but it comforted him as he walked through the darkness.

When they turned down boulevard Raspail, Armand knew where they were going. Where Daniel had been taken.

It was both cruel and kind. Armand was both sickened and relieved.

They were holding Daniel in Stephen’s apartment. A place Daniel had visited many times. Where his son had happy memories and where he might be less afraid.

But it was one more violation for Armand. His own safe place defiled beyond redemption.

When they arrived, Madame Faubourg came out to greet them.

“It’s wonderful to see Daniel. I hope you don’t mind my letting him and his friends into Monsieur Horowitz’s apartment. He did have the JSPS card.” She leaned closer to Armand. “Not that he needed it. I’d have let him in anyway.”

Light spilled from the open door to her apartment, and with it the scent of ginger and molasses.

“Any more news about Monsieur Horowitz?”

“I’m afraid not. I won’t be staying long, but I think Daniel and his friends might stay the night. Sort through things. Best not to disturb them.”

“Of course.”

She nodded to Dussault and wiped her hands on her apron as she watched them walk through the courtyard.

In the elevator, Gamache turned to Dussault. “How can you be part of this? What happened?”

“Don’t be so fucking sanctimonious, Armand. Have you looked around? What’s the difference between this and the tobacco companies? The pharmaceuticals that continue to sell drugs they know are killing people? Airlines that fly planes they know are dangerous, elevators that plunge to the ground? How about nuclear power stations coming online? Engineers who continue to use faulty and inferior materials? The governments that drop regulations in favor of profit? They’re killing thousands, hundreds of thousands. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t tell me you haven’t knowingly endangered innocent lives, justifying it as for the greater good. Where’s the line?”

“That’s your justification? I’ll tell you where the line is. It’s buried under that pile of corpses you helped make.”

The elevator jerked to a stop, and Dussault yanked the metal accordion door open.

“You can’t win. Since you refused to leave, what you’re fighting for now is how badly you’re going to lose. How much you’re going to lose. If they think you know what Horowitz has and aren’t telling them,