All the Devils Are Here (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #16) - Louise Penny Page 0,36
had a full life. A good life. Reine-Marie and I would live quietly in the country.
“You’re just beginning. You and your family. I wanted to give you a choice. That’s all. But I was wrong not to discuss it with you before approaching Stephen. I am sorry.”
“Is Stephen on the board of GHS?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. When I asked him to find you a job offer in private industry, I assumed it would be in Québec. Not Paris. And not specifically GHS.”
Jean-Guy nodded, rocking back and forth slightly on the bed.
“The offer was legitimate,” said Armand, reading his thoughts. “GHS would never have hired you for that position if they hadn’t known you were perfect for it.”
“Did Stephen approach Carole Gossette, my boss?”
“I honestly have no idea.” Armand hesitated before going on. “You leaving the Sûreté was painful for me. You and your family leaving Québec broke my heart.”
Jean-Guy nodded. He knew the truth of that.
“Still,” Armand went on, “it was a terrible mistake, not asking if you wanted the option to leave the service.”
His use of that word reminded Jean-Guy that Gamache almost never called the Sûreté a force. He called it a service.
Jean-Guy took a deep breath, then nodded.
Armand reached into his pocket and brought out the nickels. He looked at them, then handed them to Jean-Guy.
“Compensation?” asked Jean-Guy.
Armand gave a short laugh. “Non. If this really is Stephen’s good-luck charm, I know he’d want you to have it.”
Jean-Guy closed his fist around the fused coins. “We might need it.” He looked his father-in-law in the eyes. “Merci.”
He made to get up, but Armand motioned him back down.
“There is something else.”
“Oui?”
“When Reine-Marie and I found the body, we noticed a scent in the air. A man’s cologne. That’s how we knew someone was still in Stephen’s apartment.”
“It wasn’t the dead man’s or Stephen’s?”
“No. This was fresh.”
“What did it smell like?” asked Jean-Guy.
When Gamache paused, Beauvoir assumed it was to think about how best to describe a scent. But he was wrong.
Gamache’s answer not only surprised Beauvoir, it changed everything.
“It smelled like Claude Dussault.”
CHAPTER 12
What was that about?” asked Dussault as the two men returned to the living room.
“I’m not sure if you know that I work at GHS Engineering,” said Jean-Guy, pointing to the annual report. “I hadn’t realized until I saw that that Stephen must’ve had a hand in my hiring. I thought I got it on my own merits.”
“And you did,” said Armand. “But I needed to explain how it happened, and apologize for my part in it.”
“Which was?” asked Dussault.
Armand explained.
“Well, Horowitz must be on the board of GHS,” said Dussault, holding up the annual report. “That’s how he got Beauvoir the job, and why he has this.”
He put it back in the box and replaced the lid.
“I’ll check with Mrs. McGillicuddy, his secretary,” said Gamache.
“I’ve heard from Fontaine,” said Dussault. “They’re removing the body. I need to be at the autopsy. Would you like to be there, too?”
He looked at Gamache, then, slightly reluctantly, widened the invitation to include Beauvoir.
“Please,” said Gamache while Beauvoir nodded.
After they set up a time to meet the Prefect at the Quai des Orfèvres later that afternoon, Dussault said, “Commander Fontaine wants to interview you and the family. You’re witnesses to the attack on Horowitz.”
It was agreed that Fontaine would interview them at Daniel and Roslyn’s apartment in the Third Arrondissement, mid-afternoon.
Dussault left the Hôtel Lutetia with the box, while Reine-Marie, Jean-Guy, and Armand returned to bar Joséphine.
They needed to talk.
A waiter asked what they’d like to order.
Reine-Marie asked for tea then quickly scanned the menu, taking the first thing she saw. Thankfully it was lobster mayonnaise.
Armand ordered an herb omelette. He wasn’t hungry and knew he’d just push things around on the plate. Beauvoir had a burger.
Finally, the waiter left, and Reine-Marie turned to Armand. “Claude? That cologne we smelled in Stephen’s apartment. It’s the same one Claude’s wearing.”
“Oui. I told Jean-Guy while we were in the bedroom.”
“You don’t think … ? He’s a friend. He’s the head of the Préfecture de Police, for God’s sake.”
Armand shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“A lot of people might wear that cologne,” suggested Jean-Guy, who’d made sure he got a good whiff of the Prefect before he left.
Reine-Marie hesitated, but knew this wasn’t the time to shy away from the truth. “I’ve never smelled it before. Have you?”
Jean-Guy had to admit he hadn’t. “But it might be more popular here. Like tête de veau.”