EXB 03 - Nightshade

Record 2:

We arrive at the "bungalow". Something is clearly off about this family and the farm. All details recorded in the file may not even be accurate.

The file reports the farmhouse to be a wood-based structure, various parts of which are deteriorating, and has fallen into disrepair. Then there appears plenty cases of the same residence having ignited by apparently some forest fire.

According to the document, the farm only raises livestock in the past, mostly cows, pigs and sheeps. The cold weather and the pine forest density seem to prevent agricultural activity.

Then there's some information about the family. A small family of middle age farmers with a young son. The other are just insignificant details about their citizen identifications.

Strangely, as the merchant said, the only one to ever leaves the farm is the wife, or the victim. Other family members never seems to appear in the city. Maybe because of certain business relationships in Amiens.

And the strangest thing is their income. According to past records, their financial status was near bankruptcy. Property consisting of only the farmhouse and the livestocks, prepared to be sold in an auction in the city.

What is in front of my eyes right now tells the absolute opposite reality.

The house is not built with wood. They are constructed out of high-quality bricks, some of which even features textures only used by rich middle class citizens. And the floor is decorated with polished granite tiles, presumbaly from master craftsmen in the city.

Tons of livestocks are kept by wood fences, with proper windbreaker, not sold away as the file reported. They even raise tons of vegetables and grapevines here. On the left of the bungalow lay another two small houses, one of which is apparently a mill, while another contains a huge distiller, presumably for making wine.

All of which are taken care of by hundreds of working class peasants, all of whom even share large resident buildings, with hundreds of rooms, on the right side as shelter.

The family were never broke.

They live like Dukes and Mistresses here, like the words of the merchant.

All of which only raises more suspicion, of either some dangerous organized crime or a truly haunted resident.

We approach some of the workers here in the grapevine farmland. The place is occupied with latticework frame, made out of white metal rods, used for the grapevines. They are pruning the plants, probably preparing for the upcoming harvest season.

" We should investigate the surrounding workers first. ", Lucien pats me on the back, " Conversing may bring more information than you expect. "

" Right. Let's split up then. "

" I see to the workers in other sections first. ", Lucien heads to the nearby mill.

I approach a farmer here near the trellis.

" Bonjour, monsieur. What do you need ? "

" How long have you been working here ? "

" Like 3 years already, monsieur. The family in charge here is lovely. They give us shelter, food, and two times as much salary as what a normal peasant would receive from Amiens' s employers. I use to be a beggar on the street until the madame here found me... "

The farmer suddenly chokes up by her own tears, unable to hold back some grief.

" Mrs Dubois was the angel of everyone's life, yet it so sad to see her fade away like this. She, her husband and her lovely son, all of them give farmers around here the life they never dream. But she passed out, last night, hasn't even uttered any last message to anyone... ", she started to cry.

I have to leave her for now, coming up to another worker in the vegetable farmland.

" Can you tell me what the family does around here ? "

" Oh the young man teaches us how to take care of the plants, his father guides us about dealing with the cows, pigs, sheeps and horses, sometimes also when the animals are giving birth to new offsprings. "

Offsprings ? Another strange details. It's bizarre considering how advanced and technical the term is in contrast with the working class background of most residents here. Everyone seems to possess intermediate vocabulary of the wealthy middle class merchants.

Some of them seems even wealthy enough to open their own handcrafted goods shop or a restaurant or any kind of store in the city.

Yet some how they remain here, working for this family...

I regroup with Lucien a few minutes later.

" Any good information, my friend ? ", Lucien laughs.

" Oui, I have them in my notes here.... Why are you laughing ? "

" The people here gave me a free bottle of ' Le Vin de Dubois '. They ask me to spread the word about the home-made wine in Paris. ", he laughs again, taking a sip from the bottle.

" Mon Dieu (My god), mon ami (friend). You have to stop with that thing. Please, focus on the investigation. "

We then approach the bungalow in the center of the farm. (More like a mansion)

I ring the bell hang in front of the door.

No one responds.

Lucien goes on to knock on the door.

" Y a-t-il quelqu'un ? (Anyone home) "

A man speaks loudly from inside.

" Please leave. We don't take any visitor at the moment. "

That's more suspicious than ever.

" So, what we do now ? ", I turn to Lucien.

"Let's just use our authority.", he smiles.

The decision is made, always like that. Though we have equal ranks in the special research/investigate unit, I was always like his assisstant, writing his stuff on paper.

Lucien knocks again, saying:

" We are the Nationale Gendarmerie. We come to investigate the death of Mrs Véra Dubois. If you don't let us in, monsieur, I can charge you for being incooperative and obstructing the investigation. "

Finally, the man inside opens the door, showing a surprised and confused look:

" But I did not send in any case paper."

" Wait. You did not? But the family reported here says you are in charge of the farm. And the letter here. The letter demanding the gendarmerie involvement here. "

The man grabs the letter, he takes a few quick gazes, showing an amusing expression.

" This is definitely not my letter. ", the man shakes his head, " I don't know how to write, not even read. I usually have my wife to do it for me. "

Well... when I say this case is bizarre, I mean so.

Every single clue leads to only more questions....