Red-handed in Romanée-Conti (Winemaker Detective Book 12) Page 14
Philippine Perraudin stood up and pushed back a lock of hair from her forehead. “Let’s get this over with.”
Cluzel stepped aside to let an officer handcuff the woman who had brought down scandal on the respectable Lemoine estate.
24
The following day, Benjamin and Virgile got up at dawn to return to the Europcar agency to rent a car that would get them back to Bordeaux as soon as possible. Now that the harvest was over, it was best not to delay any more than necessary, because that very evening there was a visitor of utmost importance was arriving at the Merignac airport: Paul William Cooker.
When they picked up the car, Virgile checked under the passenger seat. He ran his hand under it twice. The second time he came up with a metal tube, rather light in weight and about twenty centimeters long.
“Strange, boss: look what I found.”
“Now what?” growled Benjamin.
“H. Upmann, Coronas Major” was written on the tube.
Benjamin bestowed a smile on his assistant’s providential discovery. “How did the previous driver know that it’s my favorite brand?”
“You must admit, boss—it’s better for your image than a bra and a pair of panties. Which reminds me. Did you ever find out who put the underwear in the Alfa?”
“Yes, it was Philippine, as I suspected. She had taken all of Clotilde’s clothing—not a very smart thing to do, but I guess she wasn’t in her right mind. Then she decided to use the underwear to implicate me, according to Inspector Cluzel. She certainly had access to the car. She just made one mistake. She kept a necklace that Romain had given to Clotilde. She was wearing it the night Philippine murdered her, and Romain remembered that one key piece of information. The authorities found it in a search of Philippine’s home.”
“Speaking of guilt, I’m assuming that Rafael’s scarf was of no use in the investigation, because he wasn’t the one who did it.”
“In the end, Inspector Cluzel decided that even though Rafael had a motive, and he certainly wasn’t the nicest person who ever came down the pike, he didn’t have the stomach for murder.”
“Anyway, we know who murdered Clotilde. But I don’t think we’ll ever find out who fathered her baby. I’m guessing it was Simon, although it could have been Martin’s.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever answer that question. It could have been someone whose name didn’t even come up in the investigation.”
Virgile rolled down the car window and checked out the sky. The clock on Notre-Dame read 8:35. The capital of Aquitaine was no more than seven hours away from Burgundy, which was once again threatened by a storm from the west, possibly even hail.
He rolled the window up again and turned to Benjamin.
“Well, Romain didn’t care who the father was. I talked with him on the phone just before we left. He was in such bad shape the last time I saw him, I wanted to check on him. He told me he would have raised Clotilde’s baby as his own.”
“So how’s he doing, son?”
“Better. Knowing that Clotilde’s murderer is behind bars has helped. So what about the Lemoines? Do you think they’ll collect on their damages?”
“That’s a tough one, but there’s talk of the government unblocking funds to help the winegrowers. At any rate, it’s a fine old estate that’s been through worse. The Lemoines will weather this, too.”
“You say the Lemoines. That means the authorities aren’t pressing charges against Rafael?”
“Cluzel said the magistrate will probably accept a plea bargain. Probation, provided Rafael gets counseling.”
Virgile sighed. “That seems like light treatment, boss. What he did wasn’t right.”
“I agree, son. But let’s hope he turns the corner with the right therapy.”
Benjamin tuned the radio to a classical music station. “I’m glad to be getting home. There’s much to do at Grangebelle before winter. I need to make sure we have enough wood for the fireplace and check the roof for leaks.”
“And me, boss? I just make sure my boots are in the closet. You certainly are a man of many habits.”
“That reminds me of a quote: James Allen, British, one of my father’s favorite inspirational writers. He was a forerunner of your modern-day self-help gurus: ‘The law of harvest is to reap more than you sow. Sow an act, and it becomes a habit. Sow a habit, and you reap a character. Sow a character, and you reap a destiny.’”
Benjamin turned the radio volume up. “Now hand me that cigar.”
Epilogue
Benjamin Cooker let the spring air coming through his open window float over him like a light silk blanket. He pulled his rental car into the same spot and got out, making sure he had his keys. Closing his eyes, he breathed in the smell of moss and warm earth. When he opened them again, he spotted Marcel and Rafael Lemoine heading toward him.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it, Benjamin?” Marcel said, extending his hand.
“Yes. Perfect, in fact. Not a cloud in the sky.” Benjamin smiled at the two men. “Shall we take a look?”
Rafael nodded, and the three men started up the hill to the Saint-Vivant Abbey. In the daylight the silhouette of the ruins wasn’t eerie at all. As they got closer, Benjamin heard the sounds of hammering, sawing, and laughing. A few seconds later he took in the sight of young people scrambling around the walls and down into the cellars.
“Something, isn’t it, Benjamin,” Marcel said. “By summer’s end, they will have gotten quite a bit done.”
The winemaker looked at the Lemoine father and son and nodded. “The restoration of the abbey is really coming along, Rafael, thanks to your contributions to the non-profit behind all this. Without the money you’ve raised and the effort you’ve put into getting all these people involved, this would have taken years longer. You’re adding a proud chapter to your family’s legacy.”
Rafael surveyed the landscape. “It’s a beginning, Mr. Cooker. I want to do this and more. I need to earn my father’s respect and trust. I know that more than ever now.”
“It takes a brave man to turn his life around, Rafael.”
Benjamin thought of his own father and silently prayed that he had Paul William’s respect and trust. Seeing to it that Paul William was okay wasn’t easy when they were in different countries. Elisabeth and he were doing their best. But one day Paul William would probably have to join them in Bordeaux. He’d no longer be able to live alone, and Benjamin couldn’t stand the thought of a ill father being all by himself in an impersonal nursing facility.
Benjamin offered his companions cigars from his case and lit one for himself. “A wise man once said, ‘One is worthy as a son when he removes all his father’s troubles.’”
As the three men silently puffed their cigars, Benjamin continued to think about Paul William. He’d have to Skype him when he got back to Grangebelle. The older he got, the more he wanted to say to his father. Things he was too immature—or arrogant—to understand when he was young. Things that couldn’t wait, because he didn’t know how much longer he’d have his father. But on this perfect day, Paul William was alert and healthy. And for that, Benjamin thanked God.
Thank you for reading
Red-handed in Romanée-Conti.
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Don’t miss the other titles in the
Winemaker Detective series
Treachery in Bordeaux
Grand Cru Heist
Nightmare in Burgundy
Deadly Tasting
Cognac Conspiracies
Mayhem in Margaux
Flambé in Armagnac
Montmartre Mysteries
Backstabbing in Beaujolais
Late Harvest Havoc
Tainted Tokay
About the Authors
Noël Balen (lef
t) and Jean-Pierre Alaux (right).
(©David Nakache)
Jean-Pierre Alaux and Noël Balen came up with the winemaker detective over a glass of wine, of course. Jean-Pierre Alaux is a magazine, radio, and television journalist when he is not writing novels in southwestern France. The grandson of a winemaker, he has a real passion for food, wine, and winemaking. For him, there is no greater common denominator than wine. Coauthor of the series Noël Balen lives in Paris, where he writes, makes records, and lectures on music. He plays bass, is a music critic, and has authored a number of books about musicians, in addition to many novels and short stories.
www.lefrenchbook.com/alaux-balen/
About the Translator
Sally Pane studied French at State University of New York Oswego and the Sorbonne before receiving her master’s Degree in French Literature from the University of Colorado. Her career includes more than twenty years of translating and teaching French and Italian, and she has translated a number of titles in the Winemaker Detective series. She lives in Boulder, Colorado, with her husband.
www.lefrenchbook.com/our-translators/
www.lefrenchbook.com