Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

off.”
    “But I need it for the e-mail,” said Alphonse.
    “I understand. Come into the
mairie
anytime and use mine in the office until we can get one of your computers back to you. Just type in ‘Bruno’ to start it up, and then my cell phone number is the password.”
    “Don’t you need a court order or something to take it?”
    “No, we don’t,” said Bruno calmly. “But the alternative is that I stay here until J-J comes back with a carload of gendarmes and a magistrate and then they’ll hunt through everything and tear up your houses and take lots of things away with them. Arson is a serious crime, Alphonse. Let’s not make this worse than it is.”
    After a long moment, Alphonse sighed and nodded. He went into the dome and came back with the laptop. “You’re still welcome at the wake tomorrow, Bruno. Max thought the world of you.”
    “And I thought the world of him. Thanks for the invitation; I’ll be there. Keep your spirits up, and call me on Max’s phone if you need anything. It’s the only one I’ve got, after the last one went into the wine vat with me when we pulled him out.”
    “That’s fine. He’d have wanted you to have it if you needed it. Bye, Bruno,” said Alphonse, coming forward to embrace him, and then he turned and walked slowly back into the cheese barn.
    “A strange kind of policeman you are,” said J-J as they walked back to his car. “It’s just as well there were none of my recruits here to see that. Giving away your computer password. It would set their training back years.”
    “Maybe it’s exactly what they need. It would do them all good to spend a year as a village policeman. You’ve said as much yourself, J-J, more than once.”
    “I’d probably had a drink or two when I said that. Still, if you’ve got your old phone, I’ve got someone on my team who can do wonders with phones. If he can’t fix it, he’ll transfer all your numbers into that new one in a couple of minutes with his laptop. And I think we’ve got a couple of spares in the mobile unit.”
    “We’ve solved one crime,” said Bruno. “But now we’ve got a bigger one to tackle.”
    “Crime never sleeps,” said J-J. They saw the postman waiting at the car and climbed in. J-J drove up the bumpy narrow lane, wincing as branches scratched the sides of his Peugeot. “
Putain, putain, putain
. I knew we should have taken your van.”
    “We needed your car to bring the postman. My van has only two seats,” said Bruno. “One thing a village policeman knows is never to leave a cooperative witness stranded miles from anywhere. I’m surprised you don’t teach the recruits that in the Police Nationale.”

32
    Bruno was a fatalist, like most soldiers who had been shot at and lived. The bullet would either get you or it wouldn’t. So while he admired people who prepared their meetings and their conversations in advance, he could never do it himself. Even if he was making official inquiries or was involved in an interrogation, whatever line he’d planned to pursue was soon diverted into unexpected directions. On the whole Bruno thought these tended to be more rewarding than his intended approaches, rather like being forced to take a detour when traveling; the surprises were often more interesting than the planned route. So as he headed for Hubert’s
cave
, he thought he would just ask Jacqueline the simple questions: When and where had she last seen Max? Where had they planned to meet next? Had she heard any more from Bondino?
That should cover it
, he thought as he greeted Nathalie and looked at Hubert’s latest special offer. With the tourist season over and space needed for the first of the Beaujolais and the new deliveries, this was the time when Hubert started selling off some stock cheaply.
    “Salut
, Bruno. I was just closing. Have you come in for that Gigondas?” she asked. “Word’s getting around and it’s going very fast. It’s an amazing buy at four euros.”
    “I was looking for Jacqueline, but I’ll take three bottles if it’s that good.” He handed over a twenty-euro bill.
    “You just missed her. We had a long day doing inventory, so I said she could go when I started to lock up. Since it’s you, I’ve got half a case left of that Gigondas, which you can have for that twenty.”
    With the half case of wine cushioned by his sports bag, Bruno took the familiar road past the railway bridge and along the path to Pamela’s home. It was one of his favorite