Backstabbing in Beaujolais (Winemaker Detective Book 9) Read Online Free PDF Page A

by just last month and said someone was willing to pay an exorbitant sum for it, but I’d never sell. Who knows? Maybe Margaux would want to live there after Elisabeth and I are gone.”
    “You’re too young to be talking about that,” Esteban said, taking the winemaker’s elbow. “Come. Let’s throw together something to eat while Virgile has a look around the room.”
    As gifted as they were in their respective fields, neither Esteban nor Mercedes had much talent in the kitchen, and Benjamin generally relied on Elisabeth’s formidable culinary skills at Grangebelle. But the three friends got busy and managed to concoct passable mussels with slices of chorizo. Their main course, ragout, didn’t come out so well. They couldn’t even get their knives through the tough meat. Fortunately they were able to wash the whole thing down with two bottles from Domaine des Darrèzes, a perfectly appropriate Saint Amour wine. There was nothing but smoothness in the 2011 Côte de Besset’s complex nose of blackberries and blackcurrants, elegant tannins, and rounded flavors. The four talked and laughed until midnight, when everyone decided to retire. But first Benjamin had to explore the piles of books that served as a library in the back of the living room. It didn’t take him long to pull out two tattered paperbacks.
    “Here, Virgile, read this if you want to understand Beaujolais.”
    “ Clochemerle ? What’s this?”
    “A satirical novel by Gabriel Chevallier, published in 1934. It was translated into English as The Scandals of Clochemerle . The BBC made it into a television series in the nineteen seventies. I’m going to re-read Les carnets du major Thompson by Pierre Daninos, which I also recommend. It dates from the fifties and is a humorous observation of the French people. It was made into a movie, too, a comedy called The French, They are a Funny Race .”
    “I’ll give it a stab, boss. Sometimes your recommendations are really requirements.”
    “Just a few pages for starters. That’s all I ask. Then get some sleep.”

5
    “I thought about you before I fell asleep last night,” Benjamin said, removing the battered paperback from the inner pocket of his jacket.
    “I don’t mean to be critical, Mr. Cooker, but you could be having more pleasant thoughts before going to sleep,” Guillaume Périthiard said.
    “Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t that kind of thought. I read a passage in this book that I believe you will enjoy. Are you familiar with Les carnets du major Thompson ?”
    “I have to admit that I don’t have much time to read anything, other than my financial statements.”
    “What a shame,” Benjamin said as he put on his glasses. “I think reading a good book is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”
    Not giving Périthiard any time to respond, the winemaker raised his voice so that it could be heard above the hubbub of the restaurant.
    “An American who walks past a millionaire driving a Cadillac secretly dreams of driving his own one day. A Frenchman who sees a millionaire in a Cadillac dreams that the man will step out of his car one day and walk like everyone else.”
    “Excellent, Mr. Cooker. How true.”
    “Pierre Daninos’s wit is timeless, a bit like this place, a traditional bouchon , where you can find Lyonnais cuisine as it has always been made.”
    A waiter in a checked shirt, a pen behind his ear and a notebook in hand, approached the table. They were quick to order: a salade de lentilles with headcheese, sabodet sausage, a Lyon-style beef tripe dish called sablier de sapeur , and another local specialty, cervelles de canut , which was a mixture of fresh cheese, herbs, shallots, oil, and vinegar.
    “What will you be drinking?” the waiter said, tapping his pen against his notebook.
    “We’ll wash all that down with a Domaine de la Chaponne,” Benjamin said.
    The waiter walked away without asking the two men if they’d like water.
    “That is a fine wine you chose—a