Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

more to the interests of Saint-Denis than to the
code criminel
. They had worked on a couple of cases successfully and enjoyed some fine meals together. Bruno led J-J down the ancient stone stairs of the
mairie
and through the arches into Fauquet’s café, where J-J ordered two Ricards.
    “How’s Isabelle?” J-J asked. “She must be heading up to that new job in Paris any time now.” Isabelle had worked for him as a detective in the regional headquarters in Périgueux before her karate skills and her looks had caught the attention of the minister of the interior. J-J had taken a benign interest in the affair Bruno started with her that had blossomed throughout the summer, flattering himself that he had played a role as matchmaker.
    “She’s already left,” Bruno said, trying to keep his voice neutral. “They said the minister had some foreign trip coming up and he wanted her in the delegation.”
    “Well, you always knew she’d be leaving,” J-J said. “And you had three happy months.”
    Bruno nodded. When Isabelle had announced that she would leave, putting her career in Paris ahead of whatever she and Bruno had between them, he had accepted her decision. But the walls he had kept around his heart since his last love had been snatched from him, defenses that Isabelle had started to dismantle, began to rebuild themselves in a way that he could almost feel. In their last week together, he had lain awake at night, knowing from her breathing that she too was pretending to be asleep, and he could almost feel stone piling upon stone within him. Strangely, it had made their lovemaking even more intense. But the final parting at the Saint-Denis train station had been dry-eyed.
    “I miss her,” J-J went on breezily. “My new inspector isn’tmuch of a replacement. Another woman, but not half so easy on the eyes.”
    “You’re not bringing her in on this case?”
    “Not yet. We haven’t even gotten a formal notice of arson from the
pompiers
. But I had one of those discreet calls from Paris just after lunch saying they wanted this sorted out fast. It’s not just their usual worry about eco-saboteurs. There’s some high-level interest pushing this. What can you tell me?”
    Bruno related the events of the night, the unusual nature of the water supply, the former ownership by the Ministry of Defense, and finished with a description of the tax and building permit delinquency of the Agricolae company.
    “I’m not sure about the eco-saboteurs, though,” he added. “Don’t they usually want publicity and bring along their journalists and cameras?”
    J-J shrugged and swirled the ice cube in his glass; he added water and watched his Ricard turn a milky color, then took a healthy sip. “I’ve got a formal letter of request to your mayor from the prefect, asking you to be assigned to the case to lend us poor city
flics
your local knowledge. So consider yourself conscripted. I’ve got a team up in Périgueux, collating all the names of militant
écolos
, and the forensic team from Bergerac will be up at the field by now. What can you tell me about the local
écolos?”
    “Nothing special. One was elected to the town council, an elderly hippie named Alphonse who runs a commune in the hills. He’s a sweet man—has a heart of gold, takes in waifs and strays, has been here over thirty years. Then there’s a group that holds protest rallies demanding we close down the local sawmill because of pollution from the chimney. But no real militants. The Greens don’t even get ten percent of the vote, except for Alphonse, and he gets elected because everyone likesthe cheese he makes. Let’s go to the fire station and see Albert. He won’t have the lab reports yet but he should be able to give us some idea of whether this really was deliberate or not.”
    “Deliberate?” said Fauquet, the café owner, who was proud of his reputation for being first to hear all the gossip. He leaned over the counter. “Did you say that the fire might have been deliberate?”
    “No, I didn’t say that,” snapped J-J. A big and burly man, whose crumpled appearance concealed his keen brain, J-J could be very intimidating indeed. “And if I hear that you did, I’ll be back here with an army of suspicious health inspectors and a warrant for your arrest. This is serious police business. Do you understand me, monsieur?”

3
    Bruno thought “Agricultural Research Station” was a grand name for the modest single-story building