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

Quinconces quarter.
    Virgile had returned to Moniales Haut-Brion with instructions to carefully monitor the sample-taking process. They would meet around 10 a.m. the next day to come up with a battle plan to fight the yeast, whose presence the winemaker was having trouble explaining.
    Cooker was holding the painting he had bought in Blaye against his chest. He had wrapped it carefully in brown paper and was on his way to Pascale Dartigeas’ restoration workshop near the Passage Saint-Michel. He pressed the doorbell and was greeted by the recorded croaking of a tree frog, which had replaced the original chimes.
    “Come in, Mr. Cooker!”
    Pascale Dartigeas appeared in a long white smock, a dainty paintbrush in her hand and a rebellious lock of hair hovering on her forehead. She was a beautiful 40. When she smiled, crow’s-feet appeared at the corners of her blue-gray eyes, and pretty dimples emerged in her cheeks. She showed the signs of a woman who had experienced a lot of unrestrained, selfless love, along with intense joy and periods of abandonment. She had certainly been disappointed by the thoughtlessness of men.
    “Hello, Pascale. You look well today.”
    “Thank you,” she said, brushing the hair off her forehead. “I hope you are not here for your overmantel panel. It won’t be ready before the end of the month, if all goes well.”
    “Don’t worry. Take your time. I only came to show you my latest extravagance.”
    “Extravagant people feel very much at home here.”
    Benjamin carefully removed the brown paper and showed his painting with a satisfied smile.
    “What do you think of that?”
    “I have nothing to say, Mr. Cooker. It is more than charming. It is …”
    “ …just what I love,” the winemaker interrupted.
    “I have no doubt about that, but mostly, it’s surprising. I mean, it’s very curious. Have you noticed the man’s face?”
    “What’s in the man’s face? Is something wrong with it?” Cooker grumbled, suddenly worried.
    “Nothing serious, but it doesn’t look like it was part of the original painting. I think it has been repainted. It’s a rough job and not very recent, but it was added by another painter.”
    “Are you sure?”
    The art restorer called out to her intern, who was working in the back room, and asked her to bring a black light.
    “Let me introduce Julie, who is doing her apprenticeship.”
    Benjamin nodded at the young blond with big blue eyes. The cleavage of her small breasts and her long legs molded into a pair of tight jeans would certainly have driven Virgile wild. She held an ultraviolet lamp and flashed an ambiguous smile that threw the winemaker off a little. Pascale Dartigeas ran the Wood’s lamp above the canvas, and a dark stain suddenly appeared. All three of them were leaning over the painting as she repeated the operation several times.
    “There is no doubt. It has been repainted. I propose we clean it up and see what’s underneath. Julie can start on that later today. Of course, that is if you will allow her to get a little behind on your overmantel, because she is the one who is working with solvents right now. For the time being, I’m touching up the wings of this Baroque angel you see over there, and I don’t have time to do the cleaning myself.”
    “No problem, Pascale, I trust your judgment. And my overmantel appears to be in good hands.”
    The apprentice, who was either timid or just reserved, ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth. She seemed to hesitate about something.
    “What is it, Julie? I get the impression you’d like to say something,” Pascale said.
    “Have you talked to Mr. Cooker about the second overmantel?” the intern asked in a soft voice.
    “Oh, of course, what was I thinking?” said the art restorer. “I almost forgot to tell you that Julie worked on an overmantel that was identical to yours when she did her internship with my colleagues on Rue Notre-Dame.
    Benjamin appeared irritated by this news. He