Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

contacts probably nothing suspected against her. Bruno read on idly through the raw facts he had already scribbled into his notebook from her passport: date of birth, address, next of kin, mother’s maiden name … and then he stopped. He looked again at the printout from Quebec: mother’s maiden name, Sophia Maria Bondino; nationality, United States of America.
    Suddenly everything that Bruno thought he knew about Jacqueline and Bondino shifted. He went back to his file of material on the history of the Bondino family and its feuds and began to read carefully, taking brief notes. He checked his watch. Jacqueline would be working at the
cave
for another three hours or more. He called Nathalie at the
cave
and asked her to check the files to find out when Jacqueline had first applied to work there. He went back to his files and the phone rang. He reached for it, expecting Nathalie’s call, but froze when he heard another, far more familiar voice.
    “I’m calling from a phone booth at a service station on the way back from Luxembourg,” Isabelle said. “I don’t want this call showing up on my records because I shouldn’t be telling you this but it might help get J-J out of trouble.”
    “Go on,” he said.
    “We got hold of the bank documents for Agricolae, which is what I was sent here to do. Don’t even ask how. But there’s a big payment from Bondino, 120,000 euros, a wire transfer from their American bank on July 7. It’s listed in the books as a research contract on drought-resistant vines. J-J needs to know about it, and you need to find out whether Agricolae was really the target of that fire because this means it might have been aimed at Bondino.”
    “But we solved the arson case,” Bruno said. One part of his brain was focused on the conversation and the case. But elsewhere emotions were churning at the sound of her voice.
    “I know. And J-J thinks your arsonist was murdered by Bondino. This deal between Bondino and Agricolae could be the link J-J needs to prove it. I’ve sent you a copy of the bank transfer by post so there’s no computer trace.”
    “Thanks. I’ll let him know,” Bruno said, wondering why Isabelle had called him rather than J-J. “Why not call him directly?”
    “Not wise, given the job I do and the trouble he’s in,” she said.
    “The brigadier just told me J-J’s in the clear.”
    “I’m glad to hear it. All the same, it’s safer to go through you.” She paused. “Besides, I wanted to hear your voice.”
    Bruno closed his eyes. “I like hearing yours, too. I thought I might hear from you earlier.”
    “I had a lot of work to do, and I was thinking,” she said. “And I reached a conclusion.”
    “Go on.” Bruno was concentrating intensely, trying to divine every last scrap of meaning from the tone of her voice, the pauses between her words.
    “If I see you again, it will be in Paris. That’s where my life is going to be.” The words came out in a rush.
    “It wouldn’t work in Paris,” said Bruno. “I don’t fit there.”
    “Not even for a visit?”
    And prolong the agony again? Bruno shook his head in silence.
    “We’ll see. You don’t have to spend all your life down there in the country,” she said. More silence. “I miss you.” And she hung up the phone.
    Bruno took a deep breath, knowing his pulse was racing and telling himself that he had done the right thing by not responding to Isabelle’s invitation. It was the sensible reaction, the wise decision on his part, but a part of him wanted to throw wisdomto the wind and take the next train to Paris and embrace Isabelle and all her risks.
    The phone interrupted his thoughts. It was Nathalie calling to say she had checked the files; they had received Jacqueline’s application on May 30. That was six weeks before the Bondino payment to Agricolae. But it was after she had met Bondino in the professor’s office and realized that he was heading for this part of France. So what had triggered Jacqueline’s decision to come to work in Saint-Denis? Bruno grabbed his cap and the keys to his van and ran down the stairs of the
mairie
, stopping only to pose a question at the Hôtel Saint-Denis and to phone J-J and ask him to meet him at Pamela’s place as soon as he could.

40
    Pamela was doing her accounts at the kitchen table when he arrived. A stack of bills and papers sat in front of her, and her glasses were perched on the end of her nose. She looked up, startled as he knocked and