Bruno 02 - The Dark Vineyard

that had been erected alongside an old farmhouse on the road to Les Eyzies. Securing the station for Saint-Denis had been one of the mayor’s prouder achievements. It housed four scientists, four technicians and half a dozen locals employed to run the farm and greenhouses. The director and chief scientist, Gustave Petitbon, kept his office in what had been the best room of the old farmhouse. A tall and very thin man with a pronounced stoop, he sat perched on the front of his desk and looked defiantly at the two policemen.
    “I can’t tell you what the crop was, not without authorization. It’s a commercial secret,” he said. Bruno knew Petitbon slightly from the few town rugby games Petitbon attended, and from a couple of mayoral receptions, at which Petitbon stood aloof in a corner with a glass of wine. He lived quietly in town with his wife, and they had no children.
    “Monsieur Petitbon, I’ve been ordered by the minister of the interior in Paris to conduct this inquiry,” said J-J firmly, his voice starting to grow louder as he went on. “I don’t think thatwould have happened unless somebody pretty senior in the Ministry of Agriculture, your employer, asked them to get the chief detective of this
département
to take charge of the inquiry. I’ve put off one murder, two rapes and a bank robbery to come down here. So rather than waste my time, I suggest you call your ministry in Paris and get whatever authorization you need before I call my ministry and tell them I’m going to arrest you for obstructing my inquiries.”
    Petitbon, startled by the volume that J-J’s big frame could generate, went behind his desk to make the call. Then he ostentatiously turned his swivel chair so his back was toward them. He mumbled into the phone and then listened attentively as the voice on the other end of the line barked what sounded like orders. The phone was evidently slammed down at the other end before Petitbon could finish his last deferential
“Oui, Monsieur le Directeur.”
Petitbon jumped slightly, turned and put the phone down.
    “What I am about to tell you must go no further than this room,” he began self-importantly, sitting up very straight. “The crop that was burned was a project of national importance, backed by the Ministry of Agriculture but initiated by the Ministry of Defense. Concern about the implications of climate change led the defense ministry to recommend a special project on drought-resistant crops that might flourish on marginal soil. The project included one pharmaceutical and one agrochemical corporation, and a new company was formed, Agricolae SA, to organize and fund the research. We have been working with a number of crop varieties, soya and other beans, maize and potatoes, some vines. Those were the crops that were destroyed. It is a matter of urgent importance to establish who is responsible, and indeed, who might have known of the project. It was highly confidential.”
    Bruno remembered the little flag that he had recoveredfrom the fire station. “So a small metal marker that said ‘Agricolae Séch’ would be yours? I found it at the site.”
    “Agricolae Séch
—short for
Sécheresse
—that’s the drought-resistant strain we are trying to develop. We have some of the crops on the farm here, but we also wanted to do some tests on marginal soil. That’s why we planted up there on the plateau. And it looks like the crop is all gone, along with a lot of files and research notes. Three years’ work.”
    “Do you have any particular reason to think it might have been deliberate?” Bruno asked, keeping his tone light. “Any enemies, aggrieved ex-employees, jealous husbands?”
    Petitbon smiled, and his thin, almost severe face became quite pleasant. “I’d prefer the latter. But no, no enemies I can think of, except maybe those crazy eco-saboteur types. Was it arson?”
    “We’re waiting for the lab results.”
    “Well, I may be able to tell you. We had a webcam set up in the shed, playing back to a computer here at the research station, so we could check rates of growth, color, ripeness and so on. It should also have a record of anybody behaving suspiciously in the field or around the shed, even in low light or at night. We can probably enhance the image a bit.”
    “Wouldn’t it have burned? How did you power it?”
    “We had a solar panel up there, and that was more than enough. The camera is probably destroyed, but the image will be stored on the computer.