DEAD FLAT: 1: Bottle of Lies featuring Pascal d'Onscon (Bennett Sisters Mysteries Book 10) by Lise McClendon

Author:Lise McClendon [McClendon, Lise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thalia Press
Published: 2019-12-03T00:00:00+00:00

7

“Maurice Droz, I presume.” Pascal held his ground as the man approached, sticking out a hand and trying to smile. It was difficult. The man appeared bad-tempered, face red with anger or drink, black hair sticking out in every direction, with a week’s dark beard, rugby shoulders, and barrel chest ready to take down intruders.

Droz stopped and scowled but did not shake his hand. Pascal continued, “I am Pascal d’Onscon, Police nationale. May I have a word?” All mild politeness, so far.

The man appeared to flinch in disgust, shook his head, and backtracked to his desk chair. He sat, gesturing to the other chair. “You’re here to roust me, eh? Rough me up?” Pascal gave him a small smile and showed the man his warrant card. Droz glanced at it and shrugged. “So? What is it?”

“Several weeks ago you arranged a shipment of wine to a distributor in Troyes.”

Droz waved his hand. “I send wine every single day, to many places.”

“This was not your wine though. It was labelled Domaine Souvenir-Valmy. Do you recall?”

He made a show of scrunching up his face in thought. “Not really, no.”

Pascal got out his mobile phone and scrolled to a photograph of the offending bottle. He turned the phone to Droz. “Bottles like this, some twelve cases.”

Now Droz pressed a dirty pair of reading glasses on his nose and peered at the photo. “Ah, okay. Now I remember. I didn’t send them though. I just asked that distributor, I forget the name, to sell them. A favor for a friend. Nothing more.”

Pascal nodded and retrieved his phone. “A friend. What friend would that be?”

Droz rose suddenly, pushing his chair back as he stalked to a filing cabinet. He opened a drawer, paused, then slammed it shut. He turned back to Pascal. “You know what? It is not a crime to help out a fellow vigneron. A friend. That may come as a shock to someone who no doubt has no friends. So just bugger off.”

Pascal stood up. “You refuse to cooperate?”

“I refuse, monsieur, to help you in whatever stupid game you’re playing. Now, please, leave the premises as I have work to do.”

“That wine was fraudulent, as I’m sure you are aware. That so-called friend of yours is in trouble, putting labels on bottles that are not his own. And if you helped him, you too could be in jeopardy, monsieur. We will find him and he will tell us everything.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Maurice Droz crossed his beefy arms on his chest. “Now, au revoir, monsieur policier.”

Pascal stared at him, making him nervous. Good. Nervous men tell the truth sometimes. “What is your relationship with Oscar Halphen?”

Droz blinked as if confused. “Who?”

“The proprietor of Bistro Leduc. In Troyes, you know it.”

“Ah, Bistro Leduc. Of course I know it. But I do not know the owner.”

“That’s not what Oscar says.”

“Well, he’s lying. Whoever he is.” Droz had reddened now, anger rising. “I do not sell direct to restaurants. I am proper that way, I go through brokers and distributors.

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