Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

floor of the passenger’s side, and a cardboard box on the seat with a large stuffed plastic bag atop it that tumbled into the driver’s seat as soon as Fabiola emerged. The rear seats were down and the cargo space stuffed to the brim with suitcases, shopping bags and cardboard boxes.
    “That’s my life,” she said. “Everything I own is in that car.”
    “I’ll help you unload,” said Bruno, hearing J-J’s heavy tread coming down the wooden stairs. “But first we need to know about the pathologist’s report. J-J, you should listen to this.”
    “The
attestation
has been filed,” Fabiola said as J-J joined them. “Accidental death by asphyxiation, but with a cautious appendix saying the blow to the head was inflicted after death. So you have no murder.”
    J-J let out a vast explosion of breath, and his shoulders sagged.
“Putain, putain, putain …”
    “It looks like we may have another crime: planting false evidence,” said Bruno.
    “Not to mention wasting police time and dropping me in the
merde,”
added J-J. “But how did she come to be at the death scene to plant those fake hairs?”
    “You mean the ones I found under Max’s nails? I don’t think there was anything fake about them,” said Fabiola. “They were real hairs, with follicles on the end. It’s not like someone got them from a barber’s clippings. Remember, Bruno? I looked at them with a magnifying glass.”
    “Like these?” asked J-J, holding up a plastic evidence bag that contained the hairbrush.
    Fabiola looked carefully, and then asked for a magnifying glass. J-J got one from his car, and she looked again, then pulled out her phone. “I’m calling my colleague in Bergerac. There’s something we can check.”
    She dialed quickly.
    “Jean-Claude? Listen, it’s me. That autopsy we did with the asphyxiation, the one with the long delay over the head wound, can you check something for me? Yes? It’s the fingernails. You remember we found hairs in them and follicles. Was there any other alien flesh under the nails or just the hairs? There seems to be a possibility that the hairs were planted on the corpse. Okay, I’ll wait for your call. Thanks.”
    Fabiola turned back to them. “He’ll let me know, but I can’t say I remember anything except the hairs. None of those traces of flesh you usually find if the hairs have been snatched in a struggle.” She looked forlorn. “I’m sorry; it’s my fault,” she went on. “I wasn’t thinking about planted evidence, so I didn’t look for anything else. I won’t make that mistake again.”
    “Would that be definitive proof that the hair was planted, if there’s no flesh in the nails?” Bruno asked her.
    “No, but it’s very suggestive,” she replied.
    “I think we need a drink,” said Pamela. “You help Fabiolaunload the car and I’ll bring the glasses. Ricard for everybody?” They nodded. “The door to Fabiola’s
gîte
is open. I put a new gas canister in the kitchen and some milk and eggs in the refrigerator. The eggs are from Bruno’s hens, by the way. Just go straight in and put your stuff wherever you want.”
    Two trips back and forth were all it took for the three of them. Fabiola’s suitcases were parked upstairs, the boxes of books placed beside the shelves in the sitting room, the plastic bags put on the kitchen counter and the medical bag by the door.
    “Look,” said Fabiola when they were done, pointing at a vase filled with flowers on the table. “Pamela is so kind, welcoming me with flowers.” She went across to the refrigerator and opened the door. “And look at this, orange juice and butter, and coffee and fruit here on the counter. I must go thank her.”
    Bruno and J-J strolled back to the courtyard with Fabiola, and the four of them gathered around Pamela’s table, where she had been waiting with a tray of drinks. They clinked their glasses in formal welcome to Fabiola, and J-J stole a glance at his watch.
    “She’ll be here any moment,” said Bruno.
    “So will my men,” J-J said. “You realize I’m probably going to have to go back to your Captain Duroc and ask to use his jail again.”
    “You’re not taking her directly to Périgueux for questioning?” Bruno asked.
    “No murder, so no
juge d’instruction
, and we’ll need the forensics report on the hair and fingerprints before we can file any charges. So no, I’m not taking her to Périgueux until I have all my ducks in a row. I’ve already got the American