Champagne: The Farewell

by Janet Hubbard

  “Marc Durand. Good son, I’d say. Maybe a little too much of a mama’s boy, but I see that a lot with single parenting.”

  “He has latched on to Monsieur Keller. I’m not sure if Keller’s a father figure, or if Monsieur Durand is being opportunistic. Chief Petit talked to the owners of the inn and they claimed that Marc and his mother had a fight just before the wedding. He’ll have the details for you.” Olivier didn’t share the bartender’s story about Marc leaving the bar upset the night before the wedding.

  “Tensions build before a wedding, that’s for sure.”

  “Madame de Saint-Pern was pregnant, and was planning to have the baby.”

  Girard’s head jerked up. “C’est terrible! It was Monsieur Clay’s?”

  “I assume so.”

  “How did you know about it?”

  Olivier felt caught. “My ex-wife knew Madame de Saint-Pern,” he lied. “Could be a rumor for all I know.”

  “Such an upstanding family for all this tragedy.” He stopped and looked at Olivier, “And you, I understand, were busy rescuing a damsel in distress while the murder was taking place?”

  I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Max explained why you were in her room so late the night of the wedding.”

  Here goes the muckraking, Olivier thought, only Girard’s out of luck because I know what happened.

  “Said she was really sick with la grippe and that she was about to embarrass herself by throwing up all over the table, but you got her to her room before anything embarrassing happened. That was pretty decent of you.”

  “It’s not exactly a knight in shining armor story.”

  “She thinks so.” Girard barely hid a knowing smile. “I’ve never met a woman like her. Makes me glad I practiced my English. I love her stories about her dad. He’s like the American actor Clint Eastwood.”

  Mon dieu, thought Olivier, he’s not telling the story to reassure me, but to reassure himself. He’s fallen for her.

  “In what way?”

  “Eastwood is known to take the law into his own hands in most of his films.”

  “I’d like to see the article about Detective Maguire’s father.”

  Olivier left the room. Now that he had narrowly escaped un petit scandale, he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t rather be seen as a rake.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Max lay in bed and thought about the night at the bar. She had come in and written four pages in her journal after leaving Girard at two. He had come on to her on their way back to the house, telling her that he found her irresistible, and please, could she come to his house the following evening and allow him to make her dinner on the grill. He pronounced it greele. They conversed in one-quarter French and three-quarters English and in the end she thought they were both speaking gobbledy-gook. He had insisted on walking her to her room, but she put the kibosh on that the moment it was hinted at. He was a little too full of himself, Max thought, like a guy she knew named Joe.

  Maybe I’ve gone overboard with the charm factor in my attempt to win over Girard and Petit, she thought. Hank Maguire often compared being a detective to acting. Try to inhabit your characters, whether friend or foe, he instructed his protégés. Max had become a pro at disarming a suspect with her quick smile, or a concerned question. She had won accolades for posing as a hooker or a teenager, or a thief. She thought it came from her theater background in public school, where she became known for her character parts. She had taken hip-hop lessons, too, and modern dance, during those years. When Frédéric was killed by a drunk driver, in her grief and rage she had turned to jiu-jitsu.

  She met Ted at New York University a few months after her brother’s death. She was drunk in a bar in the village and he had taken her home and she had cried all night. She and Ted made an agreement to keep their relationship platonic, though it was never an issue for her, for she was in no state to be in a relationship with anyone, and she knew it.

  Ted came from a wealthy family in the Midwest who had lost their fortune during the tech stock bubble that burst in 2002. They had gone into one hundred percent tech stocks, which put a lot of people under. Ted had gone from wealthy college playboy to broke in a day. But he had pulled himself together and worked as a waiter to pay for his tuition. They eventually became roommates. They fought bitterly after graduation when she made the decision to enter the police academy. He pleaded with her to go with him to Paris to work on his newsletter. She had her mother’s blessing, but in the end she couldn’t leave Hank. Her mother had wept for days over Max’s decision, but she knew what she was doing. Hank took her under his wing as he never had before, and she worked hard to replace her brother. Meeting up with Ted again, under these bizarre circumstances, had brought up her past, and with it, regrets. What if she had come with Ted and focused on the French part of herself? Was she some bifurcated person whose two sides would never come together?

  Realizing that this case wasn’t going to solve itself as she lay in bed reminiscing, she jumped up and took a quick shower. By seven she had greeted Mimi in the kitchen and joined Jacques in the salon, where he was having coffee. She told him about the altercation in the bar, and then asked him if she could use his car to go to the hospital to visit Ted, and from there to Hans Keller’s interrogation.

  “Of course. Is he a strong suspect?”

  “I don’t know what Olivier would say. Each person on the case has his strongest suspect. Ted is number one for most officials, I think.”

  “And you?”

  “I’ll be most interested in what Hans Keller has to say today.”

  Jacques smiled. “I see you’re practicing discretion. Even with me.” He hesitated, “I am surely a suspect. As is my brother.”

  Max nodded.

  “I decided to come clean with Marie-Christine. She said she knew all along. We have a long way to go.”

  Hank’s other advice came to Max’s mind. Learn their secrets.

  “I’m glad.”

  “I hope Olivier hasn’t been too unpleasant since I insisted that you be allowed in on the investigation.”

  So that was how it happened, Max thought. Olivier felt coerced.

  “We’re managing.”

  “He’s very private. And he’s been deeply wounded.”

  “I finally figured that out.”

  The door opened and Chloé appeared. “Come join Marc and me on the terrace.” Max excused herself, picked up her coffee cup and headed outside.

  “So tell us what happened with Girard,” Chloé said. “What a night.”

  “Absolutely nothing. Let’s not go there.”

  “Have you heard from Ted?”

  “I’m going to the hospital. Your dad said I could use his car.”

  “I wanted to let you know how the family is feeling,” Chloé said, looking uncomfortable. “We—my parents, Marc, maybe me—are not interested in getting to know Ted. I know he could be innocent, but with the amount of evidence that’s against him, it’s too much to ask us to befriend him.”

  Max had already come to that conclusion. “I’ll have to work twice as hard to prove his innocence, then. If your decision is based on last night’s fight, isn’t it fair to say that everyone was behaving irrationally?”

  Chloé nodded.

  Marc leaned forward. “Are the authorities allowing you to investigate?”

  Max looked at him with a steady gaze. It’s none of your business, she thought. Maybe it was time to enter into performance mode. She laughed. “You have to be kidding! The French police want an American detective to join them? Jamais!”

  Marc chuckled. “I think Girard would have allowed you in last night. He appeared to be quite smitten with you.”

  “Aren’t they all?”

  Good, she thought, when Marc laughed, th
ey’re disarmed. Especially Marc, who is a little nervous about me.

  “Sorry about being so sharp with you in the bar, Marc.”

  Marc lit a cigarette. “It was stupid and I apologize. Hans and I had a bet going. I know Ted’s your friend, but we were having fun at his expense, I admit it. I told Hans that Ted was so passive that I would bet him twenty euros that he couldn’t incite him to an argument.”

  Why do I think he’s not telling the truth, Max wondered.

  “Now I owe Hans twenty euros.”

  Chloé said, “I wouldn’t pay Hans.”

  “He didn’t expect his remark to Ted to have such an effect,” Marc said. “And he certainly didn’t expect a female lion to jump him.”

  “I was acting on instinct,” Max said.

  “As was I.”

  Max wanted to argue that she had been in control and he hadn’t, but she managed to bite her tongue.

  Marie-Christine called from the door, “Chloé, hurry. We have to go to the funeral home and to the lawyer.”

  Chloé’s face crumpled. “I don’t want to do either. This will make it real that Léa’s gone.”

  “Why the lawyer?” Marc asked.

  “To talk about the will, probably. Everything in Léa’s office is under protection of the police, but the lawyer has copies of everything. Maman hinted that I might be the new CEO of de Saint-Pern.”

  Marc looked flabbergasted. “You? She must have been on something. You know nothing about business.”

  Chloé bristled, and for a moment looked like her mother. “Léa had no business training when she took over the company. I don’t want the job, Marc, but if it saves the company, then I will do what I have to do.”

  Max could see that this was new territory for both of them.

  “Hans still wants it.”

  “Is that what you want, Marc?”

  He jumped up, knocking his chair over, then bending down to pick it up. “There’s a lot you don’t know.” They watched him as he walked toward the tennis courts.

  “Was I beastly?” Chloé’s eyes welled up. “All I need now is for Marc and me to fight. I’m shocked that he would feel opposed to me stepping into my aunt’s shoes.”

  “Perhaps he saw himself in that role, which means this will be a huge change for both of you.”

  “You know it’s considered vulgar to talk about money in France.” Especially among those who have it, Max thought.

  Max told Chloé about asking Olivier where his money came from. “You’re lucky not to have the baggage that great wealth brings, Max. My parents are bourgeois, but they have always been conservative with their spending. My mother, I just learned, will inherit half of Léa’s estate, as Léa had no children and no parents. Sad to think about, isn’t it?”

  “What about Antoine?”

  Chloé rolled her eyes. “He has a large number of shares in de Saint-Pern that he acquired when Charles was still alive. He could tip the balance. Baptiste Dupuis has already been to see him, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Hans Keller hadn’t paid him a visit, too. The board and shareholders may decide to go public, in which case we would have little chance of remaining a family company.”

  “Didn’t Léa give Marc shares to welcome him into the company?”

  “Yes, but he wouldn’t sell.”

  “Do you want to run the company?”

  “I’m as shocked as you and Marc are, but I do. Léa told me the night of the wedding that she was going to reverse her decision to sell, and fight Dupuis with everything she had. I want to follow through on that.”

  “Any idea why Marc is so drawn to Hans Keller?”

  “His mother knows him. I think Marc met him through her.”

  That woman knows everybody, Max thought.

  “Did Marc arrange for Hans to come meet with Léa?”

  “You’re sounding like a detective now. And I need to sound like a wife and say, I don’t know.”

  The door opened Marie-Christine emerged, looking stylish. Chloé ran to her, and Max heard her mother chastising her for her choice of outfit, sounding exactly like Juliette. She thought of the contrast between families. Hank’s father had died an alcoholic, and Hank had paid for his mother’s care until her death four years ago. Max barely knew her Irish cousins. And so far her French family existed only in her imagination. But maybe that was about to change.

  ***

  Ted was sitting in a chair when Max entered the hospital room. His face was bruised and swollen.

  This is the result of a bet?

  Max went to him and kissed him on the forehead. He spoke through clenched teeth, “So why did this happen, detective?”

  “It was some kind of game Marc and Hans had going. They made a bet that no amount of taunting could get a rise out of you. Marc lost.”

  “And you believe that?”

  She sat down. “Not really. I think it has more to do with the idea that the more attention that is focused on you, the less there will be on Hans.”

  “I think it was a warning.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a pretty big following on my blog and since Léa’s death it’s doubled. Day before yesterday I wrote about Hans’ father’s company in Germany, and then like an idiot, when he baited me with the accusation, I fell for it.”

  “May I read the blog?”

  “The police took my laptop.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “I dug around and found out why the Kellers want the de Saint-Pern Company. In a way, it’s an act of revenge. Born in France, though his parents were German, Hans’ grandfather Dietrich Keller, was accused of economic collaboration with the Germans during World War II. He was close friends with the Weinführer, a label the French gave to Germans who were sent to be in charge of wine districts. The Weinführer, whose name was Otto Bruckner, requisitioned the de Saint-Pern château, and used it as headquarters. Old man Keller and Bruckner were close friends. He made a fortune with his dealings, and was put on trial after the war. His property was confiscated, he would never again be allowed to do business in France, and he lost all rights as a French citizen. He had hoarded millions, though, and he went to Germany and created the Keller Company. His son, Klaus Keller, carries the flag of revenge and has sent in his son Hans to purchase de Saint-Pern. If he fails, he will be ousted from his father’s company. The old man sounds like a monster.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I have my sources, who prefer to remain confidential.”

  “The police will find out, trust me.”

  “Okay, then. Geneviève is a main source.”

  “Did Léa know this?”

  “Geneviève told me. And I told Léa.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “That she wasn’t going to sell to a French traitor.”

  “It all went according to Geneviève’s plan. She wanted Hans out of the running for some reason.”

  Max paused. “What if she said that to Hans Keller that night? He could have flown into a rage.”

  “Somebody flew into a rage. Come on, Max, you must have some idea.”

  Max thought about how Hans and Léa were at odds almost from the moment they met, and how daunting Hans must have thought his mission was. Maybe that was why Hans turned to Marc, the weak link, promising him an important position if he helped to persuade the other family members to accept his offer.

  Ted telling Léa about the German connection could have contributed to her death, but wasn’t she herself about to go to Léa and tell her about the conversation she had overheard at the bottom of the stairs between Baptiste Dupuis and Bernard Martin? Maybe Marc was right and Léa already knew of Bernard Martin’s disloyalty.

  “I’m flummoxed. For the first time since I’ve been a co
p, everyone has a potential motive. There’s the family angle, the business angle, and the inheritance angle. Which reminds me. Chloé said that her mother would inherit half of the personal estate.”

  “She is what is called a forced heir.”

  “And the rest?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps me. Once Léa learned she was pregnant, she told me she made a testament olographe, or holographic will, which is written by hand and doesn’t have to be witnessed or stamped.”

  The perfect motive, thought Max.

  “What is your personal financial situation now?”

  Their eyes interlocked. “Terrible. Léa lent me fifty thousand Euros last year and I haven’t paid back anything yet.”

  “I’m worried, Ted. I know you’re hurting, but you need to take it seriously that Geneviève said that you left her room at the inn immediately. It implies that you had time to return to the Léa and kill her.”

  His eyes widened. “She’s lying, but why?”

  “No idea. You’re closer to her than I thought.”

  “I admit that I used her. She has until recently moved in very powerful circles.”

  “Did you know her former lover?”

  “Monsieur Douvier? I met him several times at parties. Pompous, I would say, but also charming. Exudes power. She was undone when he dumped her. I saw a different side of her with all her security ripped away.”

  Exactly what happened to you, Max thought.

  “How so?’

  “Paralyzed that she’d end up on the street. She doubled her focus on Marc. He’s been under her absolute control. I used to feel sorry for him.”

  “Does he have any reason to resent you? He’s responsible for Marceaus not wanting anything to do with you.”

  “I figured as much. Some of it comes from his mother who is nervous that I’ll get a big chunk of the inheritance. She wields a huge influence on him. And Marc’s wary of me, and what I know. Léa regretted giving him shares in the company, you know, and was trying to think how to oust him without causing a family crisis.”

  “Did you know that Geneviève and Hans know each other?”