All the Devils Are Here (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #16) - Louise Penny Page 0,59

not be true.

“You could be right,” she admitted. “Monsieur Horowitz was investigated. The Allies decided, with his perfect German and French and his smattering of English, he could be of more use to them free than as a prisoner. And they had far worse criminals to go after. After your father helped Horowitz get to Canada, the dossier was closed and buried.”

She paused, almost hating to take this next step. Almost.

“Your father was a conscientious objector, is that right? He refused to fight?”

“Pardon? My father? What’s he got to do with it?”

“Just answer the question, please.”

Gamache glared at her, and composed himself before answering.

“He didn’t believe in killing people in a war so far from home. But he volunteered as a Red Cross medic.”

Would she know what that meant? Unarmed, their job was to drag wounded soldiers, often under intense fire, back to safety.

The casualty rate among medics was the highest of any unit except paratroops. The commandos.

“My father came to regret his opposition to the war. He was deeply scarred by what he saw in the camps. He spent much of his time after the war trying to make amends.”

“By bringing the woman Zora to Québec and into your family.”

“Oui. And by helping Stephen, among other things. He wouldn’t have done that if there was any suspicion that Stephen was a collaborator. I heard him and my mother talk about it. I remember clearly.”

“You were a child, sir. Eight, nine years old? Children can mishear, misunderstand.”

“What? That my godfather was a Nazi collaborator who my father essentially helped escape justice? You think I’d misunderstand that? You think he’d do that?”

“I didn’t know your father.” She held his intense stare. “And neither did you.”

Below the table, below everyone else’s line of sight, Jean-Guy saw Gamache’s hands clutching each other so tight his knuckles were white.

But Gamache held his outrage. Held his tongue. Held his horses. Just.

“Why bring this up now? What can this possibly have to do with the attack on Stephen and the murder of Alexander Plessner?”

“It speaks to Horowitz’s character. You might not want to see it, and I don’t blame you, sir, but that’s who your godfather is. All his life Stephen Horowitz has betrayed friends in exchange for freedom. He betrays colleagues in exchange for wealth. It’s how he stayed alive. It’s how he got to Canada. It’s how he made his billions.”

“He made his fortune by being smart and working hard,” said Armand. “By being more ethical, having more integrity and courage, than anyone else out there.”

“That’s what he wants you to believe, but the truth is Stephen Horowitz is out only for himself. Why do you think he’s left a trail of enemies? He sat on boards collecting confidential information, then used it against the very people he sat beside. He went to their weddings and baptisms and bar mitzvahs, then turned on them. Betrayed their trust, just as he betrayed his comrades in the Resistance. He’s a traitor. It’s in his nature.”

“It is not.” Gamache leaned toward her.

“The only thing that changed after the war was his location,” Fontaine said, leaning toward him. “Horowitz was, and is still, interested in only one thing. Himself. A snake sheds its skin, but nothing else changes. It’s still exactly the same creature.”

“Stephen Horowitz fought against the Nazis in his youth. And in his career he’s fought against corruption, against wrongdoing. He never betrayed anyone. They betrayed themselves, by cheating and stealing from investors, many of them small. Many in danger of losing life savings. He was, is, ruthless. Yes. But he’s on the side of the angels.”

Beauvoir couldn’t believe Gamache had just brought angels into the argument, but the Chief Inspector did not look at all embarrassed. And for her part, Commander Fontaine didn’t laugh.

In fact, what she said next surprised him.

“Angels? Are you so sure? Is it possible that Hell is empty, and all the devils”—she brought her index finger down again on the grainy photograph, this time on top of Stephen’s face—“are here?”

Gamache leaned back, slowly, almost casually, and continued to regard her. When he spoke, his voice was calm, reasonable. Thoughtful.

“Dussault told you about Stephen’s favorite saying?”

“He did.”

“Did he also tell you that he called Stephen an avenging angel?”

“Non.”

“But I think now he was wrong, and you’re right,” said Gamache, to everyone’s surprise. “Stephen’s actions during the war were a prelude to what he did all his life. He tracked down the devils among us. He’s not an avenging angel. He’s an exorcist.