Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

wartime, showing groups of smiling young men with weapons, but most of the photos were of Annette, Cresseil’s wife, and a baby, growing into boyhood and young adulthood. At the bottom of another drawer he found the property deeds; the last transaction, dated 1949 and recording the inheritance of the Cresseil farm, carried the name of a local
notaire
, Brosseil. He was long dead, but the practice was still maintained by his grandson. If there were any legal papers to be found, Brosseil would have them.
    Bruno turned at the sound of a heavy vehicle coming down the lane, and went out to greet the firemen. Albert stepped down, followed by Ahmed, who was driving the big truck. Pamela went to calm her horse, who had been made nervous by the fire engine. Bruno led the way to the barn, pausing as Ahmed pulled out the resuscitation kit.
    “I don’t think we’ll need that,” Bruno said, nodding at the gear.
    “Regulations,” said Ahmed, shrugging. “And besides, you never know. I’ve seen some miracles happen with this.”
    Once in the barn, Albert shook his head and sent Ahmed back.
    “He’s been dead for hours,” Albert said, and took off his helmet. “I can’t say I like the look of that neck. Do you think he fell?”
    “No sign of slipping on the steps, but I wouldn’t trust that ladder and I’m not half Cresseil’s age,” said Bruno. “His legs were just about gone.”
    There was the
beep-beep
of a horn outside. The doctor had arrived. Bruno went out, to find Pamela calming her horse once more. He grinned at her sympathetically and walked across the yard to where a young woman was pulling a doctor’s case from the back of an elderly Renault 5. This must be the new doctor at the medical center, the one with the Italian first name. All he could see of her so far was an extremely shapely rump. She turned, and he kept his surprise under control. A large scar covered a good part of her right cheek, and she had made no attempt to cover it with makeup. While trying not to focus on it, Bruno wondered what might have caused the wound.
    “Hello, Bruno—I know who you are. I’m Fabiola Stern, the new doctor,” she said, smiling and holding out her hand. As they shook hands she asked “Where is the body?”
    “Mademoiselle le médecin,”
he said. “A pleasure, despite the circumstances. This is Madame Nelson, who found the body, and the
pompiers
you have met. And now we go this way.”
    “Madame Nelson, a pleasure to meet you. That’s a fine horse.” She turned back to Bruno as they started walking and said, “Please call me Fabiola.”
    “That neck is broken,” she said after a brief examination of the body. “But from the pupils and the purple hands and the very pale face, the cause of death may have been a heart attack. Maybe he had cardiac arrest and then fell. We need an autopsy.”
    Putain
, thought Bruno. That would both delay and complicate matters.
    “Are you sure?” he asked. “It looks like the straightforward death of a very old man.”
    “Sorry,” she replied formally, “but with different possible causes of death I have to do this by the book.”
    There was no appealing the doctor’s verdict, so he turned his attention to the necessary notifications, starting with Max. It was clear he’d been around recently, since who else could have picked the grapes? They must already be in the vat, which would explain why the old man had been up the stepladder in the first place. Bruno left the barn and the body and walked into the yard, pulling out his cell phone.
    “Alphonse, it’s Bruno. Is Max there?”
    “No, Bruno. He’s at Cresseil’s place. He was planning to pick the grapes last night and said he’d stay over. It’s his organic thing, picking the grapes in the dark when it’s cooler.”
    “Well, they’re picked all right, and I saw him in town late last night, but there’s no sign of him here. I’m at the place now, with the
pompiers
and the doctor. Cresseil’s dead; looks like a heart attack. Max isn’t answering his phone. Can you track him down and tell him the bad news?”
    Thinking about the grapes, Bruno walked back into the barn just as the
pompiers
were packing up to leave. Suddenly he heard the ring of a cell phone somewhere inside the barn. Like everyone else there Bruno automatically checked his own, although the ring tone was wrong. In fact, it came from the back of the barn, where a jumble of baskets and dusty bottles and old clothes were piled onto a