Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

that one night right here in this bar. That’s how the window got broken. If he took Max by surprise, or found him passed out in the vat, then it’s possible.”
    “If we just let the law take its course, what happens?” asked the mayor.
    “He can be held until J-J brings in a
juge d’instruction
, and the story probably won’t reach the media until then. With the fingerprints, there’s enough evidence for the magistrate to hold him after that, at least until the DNA evidence comes back. But by that time, we’ll have an international incident on our hands and half the foreign press corps camped out at this bar. ‘American wine tycoon’s son held on love-triangle murder charge after a body is found in a wine vat.’ You can imagine the headlines.”
    “Would they keep him here for the three days?” the mayor asked.
    “More likely they’ll move him to Périgueux. But the TV cameras will all descend on us anyway to get pictures of the wine vat, photos of Max on the rugby field, interviews with Jacqueline when they learn about the bar fight. Still, the main focus would be Périgueux, and the sooner Dupuy and the diplomats get involved, the sooner they’ll move him and bring in the lawyers.”
    “That settles it,” said the mayor. “You call Dupuy. I’ll call a man I know at the Quai d’Orsay who’s just back from our embassy in Washington.”
    The baron got to his feet and looked toward the mayor. “I’ll go and see Julien at the Domaine and set up a meeting fortomorrow morning. I think Bruno should be there, along with Xavier and Hubert and the bank manager. Perhaps I’ll bring one or two more people. Ten tomorrow morning, Bruno, at the Domaine. Let’s see what we can save from this mess.”
    The baron climbed into his car, and Bruno and the mayor began working their phones. Bruno had just reached Dupuy, in a restaurant from the sound of it, when he saw J-J come out of the main door of the gendarmerie. He put his hands on his hips and glowered in Bruno’s direction. Bruno held J-J’s gaze but spoke rapidly as the detective came down the steps toward him.
    “Monsieur Dupuy, this is Chief of Police Courrèges in Saint-Denis. Monsieur Bondino has been arrested on suspicion of murder. He’s under
garde à vue
at the Saint-Denis gendarmerie. You need to alert his embassy and get a lawyer fast. The arresting officer is Commissaire Jalipeau of the Police Nationale in Périgueux. I’ll call you back when I can.”
    He closed his phone and stood up. J-J was red-faced and steaming as he approached, angrier than Bruno had ever seen him.
    “If you’re interfering in my case I’ll have
you
in that damn cell, Bruno, you know that.”
    His voice was so loud that people peered out of the bar at the scene on the terrace. The mayor turned to J-J, frowning in reproach, put a finger to his lips and turned back to his phone call.
    “Your suspect is absolutely within his rights to refuse to say anything to you until he has been allowed to contact his embassy and get legal advice,” Bruno said quietly. “It’s the law.”
    “Don’t tell me about the law,” J-J shouted. “I live the law. I
am
the law. And what kind of cop do you call yourself?”
    “I’m a cop who obeys the rules. You know them as well as I do.”
    “Damn it, Bruno, I’ve got a murderer in there.”
    “No, you don’t. You’ve got a suspect. And now you’ve shouted that allegation to the whole town. Control yourself. This is not a conversation to be having on the street.”
    “Putain de merde
, you’re supposed to be on the side of the law, Bruno,” J-J said, more quietly now. “I suppose this is another time when your Saint-Denis comes first. Well, I don’t get it, because you’ve got one of your own Saint-Denis boys dead and cold and you’re trying to protect some fat foreigner who killed him.”
    “Oh, sit down and have a drink, J-J. And say hello to the mayor.” Having noticed that the mayor had just finished his phone call, Bruno wanted to defuse the tension.
    “Monsieur le Maire,”
grumbled J-J, forced to shake hands and accede to the etiquette of the occasion.
    “Well, I’m glad you’ve stopped shouting, J-J. For a moment there I thought you were going to have a heart attack, and that would have been very embarrassing for Saint-Denis, very sad for you and a great loss to the Police Nationale,” said the mayor. He was hanging on to J-J’s hand and shaking it slowly and repeatedly as he deliberately rambled