Spilt Wine

33. Wine Located

Friday 18 April 1986

"I smell that wine again," Catherine said as I helped her out of the car. "Stronger now."

"So do I. Don't look around. Act normally. Your wine is in that péniche. Let's go talk with l'éclusier ... He's new," I said in staccato succession.

"That's why those wine smells the other day were so familiar. It smells like our ageing cellar – like it used to."

"Just follow my lead in the conversation. Let's pretend everything is normal and chat with him for a while, you'll soon see."

We stood in friendly conversation with the new lock keeper, learning among other things he was filling in for a few days while the regular keeper was away. I concluded by saying we had just come to make sure the barge was secure.

I led Catherine across the walkway on the gates and then along to the barge. As we checked the lines, she tilted her head and looked at him. "He's part of this, isn't he? He doesn't know the area, he doesn't sound like an éclusier."

"Exactly! Let's finish here and head to a safe phone."

As we walked past the lock keeper, I told him, "That should be safe for another few days. We need some work done. Office de la navigation said it's okay to leave it here until then."

"Tres bien, Monsieur. I will watch."

We headed back to the car, got in and slowly drove off, trying to appear normal as we went back across the bridge, back past the wine. "Look at the elevator and silo. They appear long since abandoned, almost derelict. Crops likely now all shipped by truck"

I drove north to Longecourt and watched to see if we were being followed. It looked good in the mirrors as I drove the three kilometres and then took a right turn at the light to head around the edge of the village, following signs to Château Longecourt.

The only car behind us continued straight at the lights. "Phone booth, we need a phone booth," I said as we drove slowly past the château. At its end, the road teed, and I could see the rise to the bridge across the canal to the right. "We'll use the phone at the lock house. Most of the bridges along here are at the locks. There should be one here."

My senses were right, and I pulled onto the towpath, coming to a stop in front of the squat stone structure. A woman stepped out, responding to the sound of the crunching gravel. After the compulsory French greetings, I said. "There is a problem at Écluse Aiserey. You may have heard of the body there last week." Seeing her nod and her hand go to her mouth, I continued, "It's our barge that found her. Now there is more. I need to use your phone to call the Gendarmerie."

After being quickly transferred to Lieutenant Grattien's line, I outlined what we perceived – the laden péniche still sitting alongside the quai after three weeks, the smell of wine, the strangeness of the lock keeper.

Grattien was immediately decisive. "We will assemble a team, get some support from Dijon and Beaune. Can you come to my office in Gevrey? We can examine what you know about the péniche and other things when you get here. Keep your mind running."

"What's the fastest route?"

"From Longecourt, head toward Dijon, through Thorey then, maybe two kilometres to D-31. This is not a straight road, it takes many lines with other routes, but follow the D-31 signs and then the Gevrey-Chambertin ones. Twenty minutes or less. I should have some of the team assembled when you arrive."

The briefing room gradually filled as more arrived, singles, pairs, small groups, most in uniform, but some in street clothes. Grattien played a slow, repeating tape off the top of his head, splicing pieces into it as they appeared in his mind and as the group grew. He laid out the sequence of events, beginning with the trip to Paris as he seemed to be refreshing his own memory, pulling details out of crevices there. He wasn't presenting his voice to anyone, more thinking aloud, talking to himself.

The sound of, "I think most are here now, Sir," coming from LeBlanc effectively pushed his stop button, and he focused on the room.

He reran the sequence of events, now in a logically ordered timeline, finishing with, "There is a major development." He paused and turned to me before continuing. "Now, Monsieur Michaels will tell you what he has told me."

He introduced Catherine and me to the group with a précis of our relationship to the case. "Start with where you first saw the péniche."

I ran my own timeline for the group, starting with pausing at the lock at Aiserey on our way to the broker's in Saint-Jean-de-Losne and seeing the laden péniche moored alongside the quai. "That was Easter Saturday, 29 March," I said, looking down at the notes I had jotted the past few minutes.

I finished with our smelling wine, the familiar smell of an ageing cellar and the strangeness of the lock keeper. Then, he turned to Catherine and asked, "Have I missed anything?"

Seeing her head slowly shake a negative, Grattien turned to the group. "Questions? Have you any questions for Monsieur Michaels or Madam Ducroix?"

"The registration number on the péniche? We can start there and identify its owner, they are all recorded," said an old adjudant-chef in the front row.

"There were two fours together. LY something four four or four four something. Lyon registered, though, I remember that and thinking the Chinese wouldn't want this barge. Four is unlucky for them. I looked for the number last week when we approached but couldn't see it. The engine stall and what followed took all my focus from there."

"There must be some views of the péniche from our photographers at the scene," added another officer. "There may be some that show the number."

The simple thing would be to send a force to the péniche and recover the wine, but that would almost certainly get nothing but wine, and possibly one or two people who were there, and the pseudo éclusier. But everyone present was aware of the need to find who was behind this. So the discussion went on, with trained and experienced investigators slowly pulling together ideas on how to proceed.

I interrupted one developing thought on having an officer as a dog walker pass by to observe and report the number. "I may have seen that péniche earlier. A week earlier. It may be the one in the basin at Saint-Usage that my broker had just sold. I didn't see the number from our angle, but the drab paint now in my mind –"

"What's your broker's phone number?" a gendarme at the back interrupted.

"I have it already," Grattien replied.

Officers were assigned tasks: Contact Office national de la navigation to get a confirmation or otherwise on the replacement of the lock keeper; follow the hunch on the péniche with the broker; get sales details if there was a four four in a Lyon number. Gendarmes dressed as a dog walker and a couple on bicycles with a picnic basket were assigned to go past to observe. An officer was instructed to ask trusted people in Aiserey about trucks at the quai, and the list continued to grow.

I offered the use of Vrouwe Catharina as an observation post. "I have already told the man at the lock that we need some work done. You can bring in some gendarmes dressed as marine mechanics, a diver also, maybe. Make it look as though we are working on damage to the propeller or rudder."

"Great idea! – LeBlanc, you get this one going." With a crooked smile, Grattien added, "But show me your plans this time before you do anything. Confer with Monsieur Michaels about the barge." And turning to me, he added, "This is okay with you? You have no other plans for the barge?"

"Our Dijon trip today is certainly cancelled." I looked at Catherine and then back to Grattien. "I'll play broken-down barge with your officers this afternoon."

"True about the cancelled trip," Grattien said with a smile. "But I do not think it would be safe for you to be aboard. Too much possibility of violence, we still have three missing people and –"

"Three?" Catherine interrupted, looking with raised eyebrows at Grattien.

"Yes, l'éclusier, the real one will probably now need to be added to the list."

"It might look strange to the new lock keeper if the mechanics arrive without me –"

"Us, David – us. You're not leaving me behind."