Backstabbing in Beaujolais (Winemaker Detective Book 9) by Jean-Pierre Alaux, Noël Balen Page B

too. I was shocked to see that Fabien Dujaray was a member of the hunting party.”
    “Why? Do you have your suspicions?”
    Périthiard bit his lip.
    “Do you think this could have been a criminal act?” Benjamin pressed. “Is someone trying to make a murder look like an accident?”
    “Everyone knows that Fabian hated Quillebaud. He couldn’t stand how Quillebaud had risen in the company. He was quite jealous, even though he thought he wasn’t good enough for the job—or so I’ve heard. None of the Dujaray boys were as talented as Quillebaud, and Dujaray never missed an opportunity to remind his sons of their shortcomings. All that’s common knowledge. I imagine that Quillebaud’s departure didn’t help family matters. I’m not aware of everything, but I do have a few sources who give me enough information to know what the competition’s up to.”
    “Indeed, if the hunt was actually a pretext—or at least an ideal opportunity to get rid of Quillebaud—we’d have a nasty turn of events on our hands.”
    “I don’t believe it. It’s too twisted. And too simple.”
    Virgile leaped in before Benjamin could respond. “Just think of it—by doing away with your vice president of sales, they could get at you too. A double whammy. Two birds with one shot.”
    Benjamin looked at Virgile and rolled his eyes. He always had to say what was obvious.
    “It’s true that getting rid of Quillebaud could be a way to throw me off balance, but I’ll say it again: I don’t believe it. The Dujarays wouldn’t stoop to that. And they’d need to do more to make me vulnerable.”
    “However it happened and whatever the outcome, a man has died, and that’s unfortunate,” Benjamin said.
    “You’re right, Mr. Cooker. I’m not heartless, and I’ve been very affected by the man’s death. But let’s be honest. He was an employee, and I didn’t know him all that well. I didn’t have enough time to become attached to him.”
    “What’s your strategy now?”
    “I’m hoping you’ll help me move past this obstacle, Mr. Cooker. In the world of Bordeaux wine traders, there must be some top-notch person who’s underpaid and looking for a new opportunity.”
    Périthiard—ever the businessman, Benjamin said to himself. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered.
    “Yes, think about it, but don’t take too long. This is urgent.”
    Benjamin watched as Périthiard glanced at his 1960 gold Breitling.
    For a man like Guillaume Périthiard, the clock was always ticking.

9
    Despite Benjamin’s doubts about Quillebaud’s “accident,” he had to return to Bordeaux. His work for Périthiard didn’t require his presence at Vol-au-Vent, and Elisabeth would be coming home from New York. She’d expect him at the airport. Benjamin was missing her and feeling the strain of being away from Grangebelle. His beloved dog, Bacchus, was getting restless too, according to the neighbor who was caring for him. The winemaker was eager to resume their long walks.
    Benjamin did ask Virgile to stay on a few extra days. “Just for the start of the winery renovations,” he had told his assistant. “I’m sure your presence will reassure Mr. Périthiard.”
    “Perhaps you could leave your convertible with me,” Virgile asked, flashing a grin.
    “Son, I’m giving you a chance to explore this beautiful region and perfect your knowledge of the wines, perhaps even make some discoveries worthy of the Cooker Guide , and you’re pining for more? I’m sure the girl in the café—with everything she knows—can provide additional incentive if you’re in need of it.”
    Virgile settled for a rental.
    When he called the next day, Benjamin and Elisabeth were enjoying some time together after their respective trips. She picked up and listened for a moment before saying, “It’s delightful to hear your voice, too, Virgile.”
    Benjamin walked over to take the phone, but Elisabeth, giving him a smile he could only interpret as wicked, refused to