“Let’s hear the rest. We’re almost at the end.”
“No! Let’s go!”
Before they could settle their argument, the tape player began to squeak. Virgile hastened to push the stop button before the device could jam. He removed the cassette and saw that the ribbon was spilling out of the casing. He carefully rewound the tape, reinserted the cassette, and pushed the play button. Arthur’s voice once again filled the apartment.
Gabriela said nothing and leaned against Arthur’s faded old couch. Virgile, aware that she was upset with him, tried to touch her hand. She pulled it away.
I’ll never be able to say what I’ve held inside all this time. I really did believe that tonight I could do it. Shit! Even in this piece of crap recorder I can’t spit it out…
The tape began to whine again. Virgile pushed the reverse button for a fraction of a second before resetting the playback.
Damn! There it is: Vega! I can talk to my star. I’ll tell Vega my story…
A burning-match smell filled the air. Virgile looked at Gabriela. She was holding a cigarette. After taking two drags, she passed it to Virgile.
It’s amazing how bright it is. It shines like the eyes of the woman who told me to call her Mom. You know, the Bernays, the family that took me in when I was four. I always knew she wasn’t my mother. But I liked her. Yvette. She was nice to me.
Things got bad when Jean, her husband, was killed. She didn’t stay single very long. She hooked up with an ex-soldier who brought her his pension check on the twenty-seventh of every month and made her put out for him. Of course, it was thanks to Gilbert that she was able to raise Jean’s son, born two months after he died in the car accident. Martin was his name. After he was born, he got all the attention. He was the love child, she used to say. No kidding. It took her fifteen years to have him.
Virgile could hear the ocean again. The sound of the waves was almost soothing.
When Martin was born, I became nothing to her. I wasn’t good for anything. That was when I began to burn the grasshoppers’ wings and mutilate spiders, and cut the tails off lizards and rats running around in the basement. The school was always calling home. That’s when they began hitting me, first Mom and then Gilbert. Every time I did something wrong, I got the belt. Do you believe me, Vega?
The ashes fell on Gabriela’s sweater, but she didn’t bother to flick them away. Her eyes were riveted on the tape player. Virgile remained impassive, staring at the cheap ring on her left hand.
The day it happened, Gilbert wasn’t home. He was always hanging out at the café. Only Mom and Martin, in his playpen filled with toys, were there. I needed a fix. I hadn’t had any dope in two days because I didn’t have any money. So I asked Mom for some dough. She said she wouldn’t give me a dime. She told me to find a job: pick fruit in the orchards or work at the co-op. I was a lazy swine, a moocher, a parasite. She said she’d tell Gilbert, and he would give me a beating.
She told me… Well, no, she didn’t say anything else, because I pushed her. No, I didn’t want to kill her. I just pushed her a little too hard. I wanted to knock some sense into her. But it wasn’t me who killed her. She lost her balance and fell. And her head hit the corner of the buffet. As soon as she went down, Martin started to bawl. He was screaming, like someone was slitting his throat…
Gabriela reached out and grabbed Virgile’s hand. She wound her fingers around his and held tight. A ray of sun caressed her cheek and made her blink. Virgile looked at her face and saw that her eyes were brimming with tears. She had always known that her lover had a dark secret. Now she was learning the truth. Her fingernails dug into his palm. Virgile didn’t grimace.
So I freaked out. I went up to my room, pulled out my gym bag, filled it with clothes, and took off. I left the kid all by himself. When I walked out the door, he was still crying.
I hitchhiked all night. I wanted to get to Spain—Barcelona or even farther, maybe all the way to Galicia. In Nîmes, a Catalan truck driver picked me up. But he asked me to get out in Le Perthus, before we reached the border. I think he guessed that I had problems with the law. So I stayed in Perpignan. I bummed around for two or three days, and then I showed up at the Joffre barracks and asked to join the legion.
The next day, I left for the training center in Aubagne. I killed Arthur Solacroup that day and became Toussaint Exupéry. It’s a funny name, Toussaint, isn’t it? Then, for four months, I went to classes in Castelnaudary. Four months. I worked hard, and then I signed up for five years and got stuck in the sand in fucking Djibouti. There you go, Vega, now you know everything…
Now you have to shine twice as bright for me! You hear, Vega?
The sound of the waves ebbed, and African dance music swelled. Virgile looked around the room as he listened to the tambourines and chants. His eyes stopped on Arthur’s unlaced combat boots.
So it was Martin whose orphan star had gone out the week before, under the train at the Pigalle station.
Virgile closed his eyes and felt Gabriela’s cheek next to his. The tears of the beautiful Peruvian left the taste of salt on his dry lips.
Epilogue
Virgile had called Benjamin with his realization. Benjamin had reached out to Inspector Barbaroux from the Bordeaux police, who proceeded to contact the local police, who tracked down Martin’s home and confirmed that he was, indeed, the deceased.
Before the new edition of the Cooker Guide went to press, Benjamin called his publisher, Claude Nithard, and asked him to remove Le Chai de la Vigne-Rhône and add a dedication. The publisher granted his request.
To Arthur Solacroup. For him, wine led to the path of redemption. But the blood of the vine cannot ward off the demons that haunt a man, no matter how hard he tries to cleanse them from his memory.
Arthur Solacroup died in the spring, after suffering a cerebral hemorrhage. Gabriela de la Luz buried him. Only Virgile and she were present when his coffin was lowered into the grave.
Gabriela returned to Lima to care for her grandmother, Lucía, who kept trying to leave the asylum where she had been committed.
Karim lost his regional championship bout against an Asian kickboxer two years his junior.
Julien Thommasseau made his vineyard a cherished fixture in Montmartre, to the great satisfaction of Françoise Lacaze and the patients at Bretonneau Hospital. In three years, Bretonneau’s wine will flow, and Benjamin Cooker will officiate as master of ceremonies when the first glass is poured. But the sponsor of this new wine is no longer able to walk up the Rue Lepic without a heavy heart.
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The Winemaker Detective Series
A total epicurean immersion in French countryside and gourmet attitude with two expert winemakers turned amateur sleuths gumshoeing around wine country. The following titles are available in English.
Treachery in Bordeaux
Barrels at the prestigious grand cru Moniales Haut-Brion wine estate in Bordeaux have been contaminated. Is it negligence or sabotage? Benjamin Cooker and his assistant Virgile Lanssien search the city and the vineyards for answers, giving readers an inside view of this famous wine region.
www.treacheryinbordeaux.com
Grand Cru Heist
After Benjamin Cooker’s world gets turned upside down one night in Paris, he retreats to the region around Tours to recover. There, he and his assistant Virgile turn PI to solve two murders and a very particular heist. Who stole those bottles of grand cru classé?
www.grandcruheist.com
Nightmare in Burgundy
The winemaker detective leaves his native Bordeaux for a dream wine tasting trip to Burgundy that turns into a troubling nightmare when he stumbles upon a mystery revolving around messages from another era. What do they mean? What dark secrets from the deep past are haunting the Clos de Vougeot?
Deadly Tasting
In a new Winemaker Detective adventure, a serial killer stalks Bordeaux. To understand the wine-related symbolism, the local police call on the famous wine critic Benjamin Cooker. The investigation leads them to the dark hours of France’s history, as the mystery thickens among the once-peaceful vineyards of Pomerol.
www.deadlytasting.com
Cognac Conspiracies
The heirs to one of the oldest Cognac estates in France face a hostile takeover by foreign investors. Renowned wine expert Benjamin Cooker is called in to audit the books. In what he thought was a sleepy provincial town, he and his assistant Virgile have their loyalties tested.
www.cognacconspiracies.com
Mayhem in Margaux
Summer brings the winemaker detective’s daughter to Bordeaux, along with a heatwave. Local vintners are on edge, But Benjamin Cooker is focused on solving a mystery that touches him very personally. Along the way he finds out more than he’d like to know about the makings of a grand cru classé wine.
www.mayheminmargaux.com
Flambé in Armagnac
The Winemaker Detective heads to Gascony, where a fire has ravaged the warehouse of one of the region’s finest Armagnac producers, and a small town holds fiercely onto its secrets.
www.flambeinarmagnac.com
About the Authors
Noël Balen (left) and Jean-Pierre Alaux (right).
(©David Nakache)
Jean-Pierre Alaux and Noël Balen came up with the winemaker detective over a glass of wine, of course. Jean-Pierre Alaux is a magazine, radio, and television journalist when he is not writing novels in southwestern France. The grandson of a winemaker, he has a real passion for food, wine, and winemaking. For him, there is no greater common denominator than wine. Coauthor of the series Noël Balen lives in Paris, where he writes, makes records, and lectures on music. He plays bass, is a music critic, and has authored a number of books about musicians, in addition to many novels and short stories.
About the Translator
Sally Pane studied French at State University of New York Oswego and the Sorbonne before receiving her master’s degree in French literature from the University of Colorado, where she wrote Camus and the Americas: A Thematic Analysis of Three Works Based on His Journaux de Voyage. Her career includes more than twenty years of translating and teaching French and Italian at Berlitz and at Colorado University Boulder. She has worked in scientific, legal, and literary translation, including a number of books in the Winemaker Detective series. In addition to her passion for French, she has studied Italian. She lives in Boulder, Colorado, with her husband.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Praise
Title
Info
Quote
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Thank you
The Winemaker Detective series
About the Authors
About the Translator
More books
Montmartre Mysteries Page 10