Read Treachery in Bordeaux (The Winemaker Detective Series) for Free Online Page B

the middle of the night.”
    “In this line of work, you need to know how to stay up late, young man. And I think that today you are going to experience your first night nursing the sick.”
    “I can ask my two workers to stay,” said the owner. “And I’ll change, because I think that four will not be too many to manage the task.”
    So Denis Massepain returned to the manor house to change out of his city clothes, and Cooker took his assistant aside to talk to him in a soft voice. He reviewed each of the steps involved in decanting the barrels and asked him to make sure he eliminated the lees and deposits, to do it sheltered from air and to reference the metal tanks using the barrel numbers. He also asked that each of the empty barrels be set outside the cellar and covered with tarps.
    “Do you have any questions?” the winemaker asked, looking at his watch.
    Virgile promised that he would follow his instructions exactly and reminded Cooker that it was a bad time to take the beltway or the main streets. He would end up stuck in traffic with everyone coming home from work.
    “You’re right,” Benjamin said, making a face. “I had better not return to Médoc right away. I’ll drop in on someone who is not expecting me.”
    DR. Pierre Baldès had cleverly distributed the folds of his shirt in a vain attempt to hide a slight paunch. He had a plain elegance found in men who have been established for some time and a certain bearing despite his growing portliness and skin exposed too often to the sun. Benjamin nodded a greeting as he entered the office, feeling a little sleepy after spending two hours in the waiting room browsing the mundane gossip in the magazines and listening to annoyed patients snort.
    “Please sit down, sir. What can I do for you?” The ENT doctor asked with that particular indifference found in older clinical practitioners.
    “Well, I’m quite healthy. My nose is intact, and my palate still alert. I do not have any problems to speak of, Doctor.”
    The doctor stared at Cooker, wondering if he was dealing with a joker or a depressive.
    “Please excuse me. I have not introduced myself. Benjamin Cooker here. I have come to discuss something that is, well, uh, personal.”
    “I’m reassured. For a minute there, I thought I had a crazy one on my hands.” Pierre Baldès smiled, pinching his lips a little.
    “I would like to talk to you about a painting,” Benjamin said, getting straight to the point.
    “A painting? Correct me if I’m wrong, you are Cooker, from the Cooker Guide?”
    “Yes, and as it turns out, we both bought the same painting. Well, nearly the same. Let’s just say that we have two paintings that look very much the same.”
    “I don’t understand what you are talking about,” said the doctor. “We have two paintings that are the same, but they’re not really the same painting? And what work of art are you referring to?”
    “A late 19 th -century overmantel that you had restored on Rue Notre-Dame. It is a rural scene showing grape harvesting under a blue sky, with a building in the background.”
    “Yes, I have that painting. And you are telling me that you own the same one or nearly the same one? I won’t hide that I am very surprised. It is a rather minor work. Well done, yes, but fairly naive. I do not think that it could have been interesting enough to copy.”
    “That is what I think, as well,” interrupted Benjamin. “And that is why I have come to see you. Would it be too much to ask to have five minutes of your time to see your overmantel? I won’t be long. The time of an appointment, no longer.”
    “An appointment that’s not covered by your insurance?” the doctor joked. “In that case, it could end up costing you a lot.”
    “I don’t want to impose on you. I could stop by another day.”
    “No, not at all. Follow me.”
    They went through a hidden doorway and climbed the stairs to Baldès’ apartment. It was well appointed, elegant but