Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

so large might want from his little town. He turned to his telephone and called Saint-Denis’s own expert on the wine trade, Hubert de Montignac.
    “Bruno, my friend. I’ve put aside a fine bottle for you to show my appreciation for your tact and good sense,” Hubertbegan as soon as he heard Bruno’s voice. “Really, I owe you a big favor.”
    “Just doing my duty. Listen, what can you tell me about an American wine corporation called Bondino?”
    “Bondino is very big, up there close to Gallo and Mondavi among the American giants. Worldwide operations—Australia and South Africa—and there was a rumor that they’re sniffing around one of the big Bordeaux châteaux. They make their money with mass wines they call varietals.”
    “What are varietals?”
    “It’s just the name of a grape, like chardonnay or cabernet sauvignon, with each brand made from a particular grape. It’s mass production, trying to make exactly the same product year after year, whatever the weather and terrain. Why are you asking about Bondino?”
    “He’s coming in to see the mayor. That’s all we know, so I thought I’d call you. What would Bondino Wines want with us?”
    “Could be a number of things. They don’t have much of an operation in Europe, and it might not be a bad idea for them to look around here. As you know, we used to be a big wine area before the phylloxera epidemic, and then we started growing tobacco instead. Now the tobacco trade is dying, so land is pretty cheap. There’s no
appellation contrôlée
in this valley to drive up the price. Funny you should mention this, because that guy who dropped the bottle, Dupuy, was asking me about wine and land prices around here just after you left. I let him try a glass of that stuff the Domaine produces; it’s a bit overpriced but it’s not bad.”
    “You mean Domaine de la Vézère? But that’s just a house wine that Julien makes for his hotel and restaurant. It’s not exactly a viable operation.”
    “You’d be surprised, Bruno. Julien bought some of thatneighboring land across the commune boundary. He must have eight or nine hectares by now, and that’s enough to make forty thousand bottles a year when the vines mature. The land is all on a south-facing slope on a chalk hill with good drainage, so there’s no reason it won’t produce decent wine. And his hotel and restaurant are a captive market.”
    Bruno had never had much to do with business, but he suddenly got the point. A small grower in an ordinary part of Bordeaux would be lucky to get even one euro a bottle when he sold to a
négociant
, but at the restaurant Julien could sell every one of his bottles for eight or nine euros.
    “When I realized what he was up to, I bought a few hectares alongside the Domaine, reckoning I’d get a good price from Julien the next time he expands,” Hubert went on.
    “You mean Philibert’s old farm, off the Limeuil road? I thought you bought that as a place to house your staff.”
    “Sure, but it was mainly an investment in the land, and I’ll be planting my own vines there in November. Don’t forget that I have some of the same advantage as Julien at his hotel. I can bottle it as
vin du pays
and sell it in the
cave
for three euros.”
    “What about Dupuy? What did he want to know?”
    “Well, he calmed down a bit with the champagne, and then I presented his girlfriend with a bottle. Not the Krug, but I thought, hell, he’d paid a lot of money. He obviously knew a lot about wine and is obviously pretty rich so I thought I might try to turn him into a regular customer. Why do you ask?”
    “Dupuy’s office in Paris made the hotel reservation for Bondino, and Dupuy is booked into his hotel tonight.”
    “Don’t tell me—the Centenaire. Nothing but the best for Bondino.”
    “That’s right. But Dupuy got a single room, so where does that leave the girlfriend?”
    “He said he had to put the girl onto the Paris train atPérigueux. She wasn’t a great talker but she certainly was decorative. It looks like that little romantic interlude is over.”
    “And now it’s time for business,” said Bruno. “Let’s stay in touch on this because the mayor is going to need your knowledge of the wine trade. They probably think we’re a bunch of country bumpkins down here, and when it comes to me they’re not far off.”
    “Sure; I’ll help however I can. But let’s keep me out of it, at least in public. We need to know what they’re really up