Pinot Noir

by Lorraine Evanoff

  “Having wisdom and understanding is better than having silver and gold.” Proverbs again.

  “Aaaa-men,” Louise concluded, hoping it would end the Sunday school class.

  They entered the Monte-Carlo Beach Hotel overlooking the Mediterranean. A smiling Frédéric LaFontaine greeted them.

  “Mademoiselle Moscow!” They exchanged cheek kisses.

  “Frédéric, thank you for helping us organize this meeting,” Louise said. “This is Jean-Philippe…”

  Frédéric gave his signature jovial laugh. “Monsieur de Villeneuve needs no introduction,” LaFontaine said, shaking hands. “It is an honor to meet you.”

  “And you as well,” Jean-Philippe said. “This is FBI agent Michael Fuentes.” They shook hands then traversed the lobby and continued out the back toward the bungalows facing the sea.

  “Charlie is with Patrick Roblot and his wife in the bungalow,” LaFontaine said. When they reached the proper bungalow, they knocked on the door and there was Charlie. Louise hugged her protector warmly.

  Charlie hugged Louise back then greeted the others. “Please come in,” he said, introducing everyone. “Louise, you’ve met Patrick Roblot. This is his wife Lisette. Louise exchanged cheek kisses with the Roblots. “And this is the Undercover Monk himself, Jean-Philippe de Villeneuve.”

  “Father, thank you for coming,” Roblot said shaking hands.

  “It is a joyous day.” Jean-Philippe said.

  “And FBI agent Michael Fuentes,” Charlie said.

  “Yes, bravo on a job well done,” Roblot said. “We are very interested to hear all about it.”

  With the introductions concluded, Louise took over the meeting. “Please, let’s all sit down, and I will go over the details of the case with you.”

  Charlie and the Roblots were aghast as Louise recounted the investigation, and the headshaking news about how Almasi had stumbled into the sex ring due to Todd Mayer’s reckless ambitions.

  Michael added the information that they had acquired in a debriefing with Matthieu after they raided the cave and arrested the leader of the Dis Pater ring that went back over 100 years.

  “Unfortunately,” Louise concluded, “because of the vast network involved in this ring, this is still an ongoing investigation. So, all of this information is top secret.”

  “Understood,” Roblot said and Lisette nodded in agreement.

  “We thought you would also be happy to know,” Louise continued, “that Paul Dupont and other Monaco officials have been arrested on corruption charges.”

  Roblot’s eyes opened wide. “I knew all along Dupont was dirty!” Lisette put her arm around her husband’s shoulder.

  “We are so grateful,” Lisette added. “This has been very trying for Patrick.”

  “We have more news,” Louise said. “Which concerns you too, Lisette.”

  “The joyous occasion I was referring to,” Jean-Philippe added. He stood and motioned to the lockout door leading to the adjacent bungalow. “Please, come with me.”

  Jean-Philippe knocked three times, then two more times. Father Gregory opened the door from the other side, and they entered. The two young ladies, Annabel and Evelyne, were sitting on the sofa, talking quietly when they saw the others. Somehow, Mrs. Roblot immediately recognized Annabel and gasped.

  “Elizabeth!” Mrs. Roblot said in a throaty but restrained voice. Annabel stood, looking confused as the Roblots approached.

  Charlie whispered to Louise, Michael and Jean-Philippe. “How did you know it was Roblot’s lost baby?”

  “Cross referencing,” Jean-Philippe explained. “This criminal element was very fastidious about keeping records. Apparently, Lisette had a baby in 1985 that was kidnapped at about two months old while she visited family in Brussels. The case was badly bungled, evidence was compromised, and leads weren’t followed. The baby was never found. Annabel was groomed for service as a dutiful wife in high society. Proof of her provenance, for lack of a better word, would have been required by her purchaser. A search of Arnaud’s living quarters produced photocopies of original hospital birth records and duplicates that were made after the abduction and forged with her new name.”

  “Evelyne was taken fairly recently and easily identified herself as the daughter of Annabel’s tutor,” Louise explained. “We hope that you can help rejoin her with her family.”

  “Of course,” Charlie replied. “Patrick and I will do everything we can to insure her complete recovery and reunion with her loved ones.”

  Louise watched as the family tearfully reunited. “We will leave you now to let you get reacquainted.”

  Lisette hugged Louise. “This is a new beginning for everyone. Bless you all.”

  They said good-bye and Louise gathered with the men outside for a final farewell.

  “Thank you for booking the bungalow for me,” Louise told LaFontaine. They exchanged cheek kisses.

  “It was my pleasure,” LaFontaine said. “I’ll be in touch soon. Perhaps I can take you on another boat tour?”

  “That would be wonderful,” Louise said, genuinely enthusiastic. After the others said good-bye, Michael and Jean-Philippe lingered. Louise took out her room key and they walked her to the bungalow.

  “I’m tired,” was all Louise could think to say. It was hard to keep up appearances in the face of Jean-Philippe’s stoicism and Michael’s possessiveness.

  “You know where to reach me,” Michael said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and gracefully bowing out.

  “Thanks Michael,” Jean-Philippe said. Michael shook his hand and walked away.

  “Well, it was wonderful to see you again, Jean-Philippe,” Louise said. But just speaking the words brought up emotions, which she choked back. His eyes penetrated her soul further weakening her resolve to remain dignified. But then she recognized a familiar look of anguish in his left eye, reminiscent of Matthieu’s.

  “Would you like to come inside?” She offered, trying to give him an opportunity to get whatever bothered him off his chest.

  “Yes, please.” She unlocked the door and he followed her in. The stunning sea view notwithstanding, Louise sensed Jean-Philippe’s intensity and closed the drapes to help put him at ease.

  “Is there something wrong?” Louise finally asked.

  Jean-Philippe took the envelope that his father had given him out of his robe and handed it to her. She opened it a read.

  “A notice from the General Directorate. French Intelligence is investigating the purchaser of the Stradivarius violin you sold 10 years ago? Whom did you sell it to?”

  “It was the friend of a close acquaintance, a Russian oligarch. I did my due diligence to make sure that the payment was clean. But it’s appears the authorities suspect money laundering.”

  “Do they expect you to forfeit the payment?”

  “No, the statute of limitations has long passed. But they are expecting me to cooperate and provide any information about the sale.” Jean-Philippe moved closer and took Louise’s hands, placing them in a prayer position. Her heart quaked at his touch. “This is your domain, Lulu. Can you help me through this? I will have to come out of hiding, at least temporarily.”

  Louise didn’t hesitate. “Of course. Anything at all. I still have all the corporate records.” He seemed to visibly relax. Their proximity unleashed a fury of passion, drawing them irreversibly toward the inevitable. Her openness was like a gravitational pull and they fell into each other’s arms. His tongue entered her mouth like a satisfying bite of food after a long fast. Their chests heaved from their racing hearts as he dropped his cassock revealing his muscular body. Her clothing slipped off easily and they were on the bed in seconds. Her openness was so complete that he only had to enter her for a moment when they both reached a kind of divine detonation that had only happened to Louise once before.

  They remained entwined, their heart rates returning to normal and Louise drifted off to a deep slumber.

  She awoke alone, covered by the blanket. She looked
at the clock on the nightstand where she found a note from Jean-Philippe. It simply said, “À très bientôt, mon amour.”

  April 2, 2002

  Back at Château du Chastenay, there were more hugs for Louise, this time from Gérard.

  “You saved my life’s work,” he said. “My son will have the resources to take over the business now because we were awarded damages by the bank.”

  “What about the caves we discovered? Will you open those up for research and tourism?”

  “For now, it is still a crime scene. Perhaps I’ll keep the mystery of the strange noises unsolved.”

  Louise bid him good-bye and continued on to the vineyard.

  There was a hint of spring in the air as Magali and Luke prepared escargot for dinner and Matthieu set the table. At the sound of Louise’s tires on the gravel, they all ran out to greet her.

  “Bonjour, Karen!”

  “Bonjour, Luke!” Louise gave him four cheek kisses.

  “Bonjour, Louise,” Matthieu kissed her cheeks too.

  “No, oncle Matthieu, c’est Karen!” Luke said, correcting his uncle. Louise knelt to his eye level to explain in French.

  “My name is Louise too.”

  “Karen Louise?” Luke asked.

  “Why don’t you just call me Lulu?”

  “Lulu! Lulu!” Luke skipped away, and Magali approached for welcoming cheek kisses.

  “Bonjour, Lulu! It is good to have you back home.”

  “It’s wonderful to be back.”

  “You’re just in time for dinner. We have fresh escargots.” They went inside and Magali opened a bottle of champagne. She poured three glasses and they raised them. “To your health!”

  “À la vôtre,” Louise said.

  They clinked and sat around the table as Magali served.

  “Thank you for saving our vineyard,” Magali said. “We are so grateful to you.”

  “Yes, I heard the bank is paying to cure the vines.”

  “Bruno’s analysis of my vine fungus provided the evidence the police needed to get a search warrant,” Matthieu said. “They seized diseased plants and other incriminating items from the assessor’s home, and he confessed to the scam with Renard.”

  “The bank refinanced us with a low interest thirty-year mortgage,” Magali said.

  “All is right with the world again,” Louise said. “By the way, Matthieu, there was something I didn’t understand about the Shee… shee…” She reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper. “Ah, yes, the Sheela-na-gig. It’s hard to keep track of the timeline.” She read her notes. “The name comes from Celtic origins around 600 B.C. However, the relics didn’t show up until the 12th century?”

  “That’s part of the mystery,” Matthieu explained. “Until relatively recently, the symbol was considered evil because of its perceived sexual nature. Therefore, most of the Celtic artifacts were destroyed.”

  “So, the image of the open mouth and…” Louise stopped at la bouche ouverte not wanting to say vulva in front of Luke.

  “La bouche ouverte,” Luke repeated. He looked through the lens of his magnifying glass that Louise had given him, enlarging his big eye. “Comme l’escargot château.”

  Everyone stopped talking and looked at Luke. They all got up from the table, Magali took Luke in her arms, and they rushed to the escargot cellar. Luke still held the magnifying glass and Magali set him down by his bucket with the old pottery inside it.

  “Luke, montres-nous la bouche overte,” Matthieu said. Luke picked up the ancient clay pot that was now empty of escargots after the harvesting for dinner. To their amazement, Luke turned the pot upside down and showed Matthieu some embossed patterns through his magnifying glass.

  “Les voila,” Luke said, pointing at the markings and offering the magnifying glass.

  Matthieu looked, then opened his mouth wide in amazement. He finally spoke. “It never occurred to me to look at this pot from this angle.”

  “What is it?” Louise asked.

  “This is the artifact that I stole from one of my digs and the origins of all of my troubles. But what is incredible is, at the time I found this object, I carbon dated it back to the Iron Age.”

  “So, it is Celtic?” Louise asked.

  “Yes. But my error was thinking it was just another ex voto and didn’t seem very important. Having the symbol of the Sheela-na-gig makes it extremely rare, if not one-of-a-kind.”

  “So, I’m guessing it shouldn’t be kept in an escargot bucket,” Louise said.

  “It should be in a museum,” Matthieu said. “In fact, it could be the long sought-after holy grail of healing ex voto.”

  “L’escargot château!” Luke said reaching for the relic.

  “Allez, on y va, Luke, au lit.” Magali picked Luke up. “We’ll get you another escargot château.” She carried him off to bed leaving Louise alone with Matthieu. They went back to the kitchen and Matthieu poured more champagne. They clinked glasses.

  “What an amazing day,” Louise said. “Do you really think this could be the long-sought-after ex voto?”

  “Even if it is,” Matthieu speculated, “I’m sure it doesn’t have any magic powers. But it is an amazing museum piece.”

  “Perhaps if you return it to the excavation company where it was found, they will be lenient. You could even return to your work as an archeologist.”

  “It’s possible. It seems I have come full circle. The harassment has stopped since Arnaud’s death and Renard’s arrest.” Matthieu picked up the ancient Sheela-na-gig. “Maybe I should get back into doing archeology. Thank you, Lulu.” She liked the way he pronounced her real name.

  “And your recovery is still on track?” Louise asked.

  “Yes, they were able to replace the bit of artery the bullet tore away. The doctor said five more minutes and I would have been a goner. I have a slight limp, but I’m getting better every day.”

  “Boiter, c’est sexy,” Louise said, teasing him about his limp. Matthieu blushed and she was delighted to see that old troubled look in his eye was gone. “Well, I’m happy for you. There’s still so much to discover here.”

  Matthieu changed the subject. “Speaking of which, I heard we are going to be neighbors!”

  “Yes! I am now the proud owner of that little house in Chalon-sur-Saône. I just came from the bank.”

  “Congratulations!” Magali said, returning to the kitchen. “Will you be moving in soon?”

  “Yes, but first a trip back to paradise.”

  “Do you have to go back into hiding?” Matthieu asked.

  “No! After the raid and the Roblot’s reunion, I went back to New York and Washington to testify to the various agencies. They decided that, due to the evidence I provided in the Almasi case, I would no longer have to worry about the Black Network.” Louise went on to explain her situation. It wasn’t 100% iron clad, but with Michael’s name on her phone, she was ready to report anything suspicious. She told Magali and Matthieu the whole story of Karen. In a sense, this was her last day as a schoolteacher from Chicago.

  “When is your flight?” Magali asked.

  “In the morning,” Louise replied. “Have you looked over the paperwork I sent you?”

  Magali smiled coyly. “Oui,” she said. “But I still don’t understand why you are willing to finance a café for me?”

  Louise just laughed. She had decided to make her dream café a reality. “A toast,” she said.

  “A vôtre santé!” Matthieu and Magali said simultaneously.

  “That’s a great name for the restaurant!” Louise said.

  “Cheers!” Luke said in English. They all laughed.

  Magali added, “To Louise Moscow…AND Karen Baker!”

  Louise felt unsettled during the long journey back to the island. When she was staring at the business end of Arnaud’s gun, she had had an epiphany that she was her own lover and had momentarily broken her obsession with Jean-Philippe. But she hadn’t figured on that subsequent impromptu
reunion.

  They had to spend a lot of time together while preparing the case for Interpol and she helped him with the investigation of the violin sale. But their heated affair had to end abruptly when Jean-Philippe forthrightly confessed he was returning to the monastery. He said he would always love her, but was devoted to his higher love of God, something he couldn’t explain and had to let play out.

  On her side, she knew the competition was now ultimate, but she vowed to try on more time to connect to his soul. She felt that destiny coming. In Burgundy. In France.

  The small aircraft landed, and Big Steve greeted her at the tiny island airport.

  “Welcome home!” Two words had never felt better. She spied Big Steve at the tiny terminal and heard the booming greeting, like music to her ears. His hug seemed to last for days. As they made their way to the dock, Louise did her best to catch him up. They arrived at her old friend, Serendipity, and Big Steve placed her bags onboard.

  “Get in, I’ll drive,” Louise said taking the helm. Big Steve was barely seated when Louise pushed the throttle and took off over the crystal blue waters with the wind in her hair. Soon, the towering thatched roof of the Tiki bar and the swaying palm trees appeared like a mirage in a deep blue Sahara. Had it been four months or four years? Tears welled in her eyes.

  Louise approached the dock smoothly, and Big Steve jumped out to tie up. She stepped ashore, her feet back on solid ground, steadying her spirits. Big Steve carried her bag and they entered the Tiki bar. The white walls with blue and green tropical décor had never looked so inviting.

  “Welcome home, Lulu.” He watched her take in her surroundings.

  “It really is great to be back.”

  Not missing a beat, she started rearranging chairs and straightening tables to her preference. Big Steve waited silently until she suddenly stopped working transfixed by Max’s painting hanging on the wall. It was a majestic image of Diana with her Mona Lisa smile. Her pose evoked the Statue of Liberty, and in the background were subtle images of the American and French flags.

  “It’s beautiful.” Louise became emotional from fatigue and jetlag. “I’m going to take a nap.” She went to her bungalow, undressed, and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.