All the Devils Are Here (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #16) - Louise Penny Page 0,141
he didn’t, his father would be gunned down. In front of him. And then they’d find him. And kill him anyway.
He closed his eyes and stepped off the ledge.
“Okay, okay,” he said, and crawled out from his hiding place.
“Oh, Daniel,” his father whispered.
“Now that was a mistake, young man,” said Girard.
He nodded to the guard, who raised his rifle at Daniel.
“No,” screamed Armand, and leaped forward, just as the guard pressed the trigger.
Armand knocked the weapon down so that the shots went into the floor.
At that moment, Girard fired. Point blank. Three shots. Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Dad,” Daniel shouted.
His heart pounding, his brain exploding, he fell to his knees as his father collapsed.
Girard put two more bullets into him. To be sure.
“Oh, no,” whispered Daniel, crawling across the carpet. “Dad?”
“Fuck me,” said Alain Pinot, coming out from behind the chair and staring at the bodies.
Girard was bending over Gamache, going through his pockets. When he stood up, he was holding something.
“Huh. So, these are nickels. He was right. They’re magnetized. Somewhere along the line they came into contact with the neodymium.”
“Then there is hard evidence somewhere,” said Pinot. “And you just killed the only person who knows where it is.”
“Exactly. No one else will find it.” He looked at his watch. “The board meeting’s about to start. We have to get you and the documents over there.”
“What about him?” Pinot nodded toward Daniel, who was holding his father and crying.
Girard picked the file up off the floor. “Loiselle, you know what to do.”
Daniel heard the door close and the now-familiar rattle of a rifle being lifted.
He hugged his father, rocking him gently, and whispered, “I’ve got you. It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
As the scent of sandalwood and rosewater settled around Daniel, he was transported back home.
He lay in bed. Curled in his father’s arms. Reading Babar together.
One more, one more. Please, Daddy. I don’t want to go to sleep. Not yet. Don’t leave me.
I will never leave you.
Daniel felt the kiss on his forehead, and heard the deep, soft voice: Sleep tight. I love you.
Kissing his father’s forehead, Daniel whispered, “I love you, too.”
As they walked down the stairs, Girard and Pinot heard a burst of gunfire.
“Here she is.”
The nurse handed the pink and crying child, wrapped in a blanket, to Jean-Guy. He held her close against his chest. Cradling her, tears streaming down his cheeks, he kissed his daughter’s forehead and whispered, “I love you.”
CHAPTER 42
The GHS board meeting was finally called to order.
There had been twenty minutes or so of chat, of drinking strong coffee and teasing each other about their night out in Paris. Alain Pinot was a particular target since he’d arrived disheveled, in the same clothes he’d been in the night before, and looking slightly ill.
Thierry Girard had placed the file in front of Eugénie Roquebrune.
“Is this … ?” she asked, looking at Girard over her reading glasses. Another declaration of power. No contact lenses.
“Oui. It’s all here.” He bent down and whispered, “There was some trouble, but we have it contained.”
“Where’s Monsieur Dussault?”
“Tragically, there was a series of terrorist attacks overnight, assassinations really, including the Prefect of Police while he was with a Québec colleague and some others. The police will soon be on full alert.”
“The Prefect is dead?” Madame Roquebrune asked, her tone abrupt and businesslike.
“Oui.”
The CEO simply gave a small nod. “Fluctuat nec mergitur. Paris will be in mourning.”
“And those responsible will be found.”
“Alive?”
“Who can say?” said Girard.
The CEO looked at Girard. They could both say. Then her eyes traveled down the long shiny table. “And him?”
Girard followed her gaze, to Alain Pinot. “As you know, journalists, and the head of media organizations, are often targets, too. Loiselle—”
Madame Roquebrune held up her hand. “Merci.”
Girard was dismissed, and the board chair, after taking a long sip of fresh-squeezed orange juice and rearranging the papers in front of her, called the meeting to order.
The luminaries took their seats around the table once used by Louis XIV to sign official documents.
“I don’t think this will take long,” said Madame Roquebrune. “Some of you clearly need to catch up on your sleep.”
There was a rumble of amusement as all eyes went to Pinot, who lifted his coffee cup in acknowledgment.
After going through the usual business, the board chair said, “I’m sure you’ve had time to study the annual report. If you’d like I can read it out loud—”
There was an immediate protest. Not necessary.
“Then we’ll need a motion to take it as accepted.”