The Coldest Case by Martin Walker (mobi reader android txt) 📕

with salad for Alain, and Bruno chose a salade chèvre with goat cheese. He and Rosalie shared a small carafe of the town white and Alain drank mineral water.

‘What does it mean, your being a director of the vineyard?’ she asked.

‘Lots of meetings, at least once a month,’ he replied. ‘Keeping an eye on the finances, and last month we agreed to postpone building the new visitors’ centre until we see how this year’s récolte comes out. If we get no rain, we’ll need to economize. The best meeting was when we chose the names for the wines. Then there’s the marketing strategy to discuss, which I don’t know much about. But I did push hard for our wines to be on sale at all the marchés nocturnes in the region because they’re less expensive than most. We only charge six euros a bottle, when most vineyards want eight or ten. And we now provide the house wines for several of our local restaurants.’

‘It’s a real surprise, Bruno. I never thought of you as a businessman.’

‘I’m not,’ he replied, laughing. ‘I’m a country copper trying to do what’s best for our town. Hubert and Julien really run the show.’

Back at Bruno’s home, their bags packed and loaded in the car with their wines, Bruno embraced them both, saying that they would always be welcome in St Denis and promised he’d keep an eye out for possible houses. Rosalie crouched down, followed by Alain, to say their own farewells to Balzac. To Bruno’s approval, they seemed to enjoy the generous lick of affection the hound bestowed on each of them. Being Balzac, he gave Rosalie a second enthusiastic slathering and watched with Bruno as they drove off.

16

The next morning at Bergerac police station, Bruno was drinking coffee with J-J, Sabine and Tante-Do, and leafing through the national newspapers. They found only some small stories with photos of Henri on the inside pages. Save for the local and regional press and TV, J-J’s vaunted media blitz had been more of a fizzle. Most of the papers focused instead on the new scandal of possible German spies in France, following up on Jacqueline’s op-ed article. The reports usually began by citing Le Monde but then went on to pillage Gilles’s post on the Paris Match website, repeating the names of spies and even printing the photo portraits he had used.

‘Do we need a new witch-hunt against the Left?’ demanded Libération, the daily that seemed to Bruno to have one foot in the socialist centre-left and the other waving towards the various anti-capitalist sects, militant feminists and even more militant vegetarians and environmentalists. ‘Better late than never for a house-cleaning of security risks,’ suggested the centre-right Le Figaro. ‘Reds under our beds?’ asked the populist Aujourd’hui.

‘Those damn friends of yours have stolen my media campaign, Bruno,’ J-J grumbled, but his heart didn’t seem to be in it. He kept glancing at the clock in the borrowed office and his eyes were bright at the promised confrontation of Tante-Do with Henri. He was also pleased when Bruno informed him that his predecessor, Joe, had called to say he recognized Henri’s photo and was prepared to testify that he recalled seeing Henri, Max and Tante-Do together at the félibrée.

J-J had already made them rehearse his opening gambit twice. The moment the desk sergeant downstairs announced Henri’s arrival, Sabine and Tante-Do were to stroll slowly and casually down the long corridor. That would give her twenty seconds to take a careful look at Henri to confirm his identity and then to greet him by name as an old friend. J-J would take it from there.

But the plan did not work out that way. Henri wasn’t alone. He came with a lawyer. And not just any lawyer but one of a new breed, Pierre Perle, who liked to be known as the People’s Pierre. A bouncy and aggressive advocate who seemed to have learned his trade from American TV courtroom dramas, he had a genius for publicity. He also had formidable legal credentials from the University of Bordeaux as one of the top law graduates of his year and as the author of a best-selling book, It’s Your Law – how to make it work for you.

‘This is outrageous!’ Perle almost shouted the words following a moment of shocked silence after Tante-Do marched up to Henri, embraced him and said, ‘Salut, Henri. It may have been a long time but you haven’t changed a bit. You’re still a handsome devil.’

‘This is a trap, a shameful ambush of an honest citizen who has come here to perform his civic duty,’ the lawyer shouted while Henri looked stunned, trapped in Tante-Do’s embrace. ‘I shall complain to the courts. Commissaire Jalipeau, you should be ashamed of yourself.’

Bruno saw with a start that Philippe Delaron, obviously tipped off to attend this moment, was standing on the stairs, putting aside his camera to start scribbling in his notebook. J-J merely smiled and then brought his hands together three times, very slowly, in a mockery of applause.

‘There you go again, Pierre,’ he said. ‘Making it all about you instead of about your client, and whether he can help in our attempt to find out how a young man was murdered thirty years ago.’ He turned to Henri. ‘Monsieur Bazaine, thank you for coming to see us. I hate to interrupt that touching reunion with an old flame of yours, but perhaps you would be happier discussing this in the privacy of an office.’ J-J paused and then threw the People’s Pierre a contemptuous glance, adding, ‘Although I’m sure your lawyer would prefer to have it in the middle of the market hall.’

J-J opened the office door and gestured to the others to precede him. When Henri and his lawyer were seated before the desk, he stood facing them. ‘Again, thank you for being here. Allow me to introduce the chief of police of the Vézère Valley, Bruno Courrèges, on whose turf