Unquiet Spirits: Whisky, Ghosts, Murder. Bonnie Macbird

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      Both men sipped their coffee in contemplation of the brief exchange.

      ‘Wait?’ I asked. ‘Why did that relieve you, sir?’ I wondered.

      ‘The single writer clearly wanted Dr Janvier to think that the opposition to his work was more widespread, Watson. But it was only one person,’ said Holmes.

      Janvier nodded. Of course, now it was obvious.

      ‘Dr Janvier, the question of the hour. What did the letters say?’ asked Holmes.

      ‘That I must stop my work or suffer dire consequences. The exact threat was vague. Flowery. The phylloxera was God-sent, or something, and that evil would befall me if I interfered with God’s will. Both me and also my family. But of course, I am unmarried and have no children. They also mentioned that objections to my work were rampant and in persisting, I risked awakening “a sleeping giant”, and my work would go “up in smoke”.’

      ‘A sleeping giant? Up in smoke?’

      ‘The exact words. And that is all. Would you care for some dessert?’ asked Janvier. He indicated a nearby cart on which were arrayed a tempting selection of tartes.

      ‘No, but a visit to your laboratory would be in order. I am still concerned for your security,’ said Holmes.

      ‘My pleasure, Mr Holmes.’

      After a brief walk through the narrow streets of this hilly town, during which I had difficulty keeping up with my long-legged companions in the hot afternoon sun, and directly after eating a full meal, we arrived at l’École Nationale d’Agriculture de Montpellier.

      We passed several low buildings in a compound with numerous garden plots, all planted with vines, which were carefully labelled and divided by string. A collection of broad, straw sun hats rested on poles throughout, evidently abandoned there by the workers at lunchtime.

      We entered one of the buildings and made our way down a long hallway. The building was strangely deserted. ‘Where is everyone?’ I asked Holmes in a low voice.

      ‘We are in France, Watson.’ he whispered. ‘Lunch!’

      But Janvier apparently possessed similarly acute hearing. He laughed. ‘Yes! Meals happen, as you say, like clockwork. In our country, we are quite sensible about refreshing mind and body. We lunched intentionally early as I wished to keep your laboratory visit private.’

      ‘I see no security measures here, Dr Janvier. Anyone could enter, and tamper with your work,’ said Holmes.

      ‘They would have to understand it to do so. Everything is done in duplicate, or triplicate, and meticulously recorded,’ Janvier smiled. ‘I am not concerned,’ said he, waving a hand.

      ‘What of this man they have sent to look after you – Jean Vidocq, what has he done?’

      ‘Yes. Ah, you know him, do you? At least Dr Watson does. Your face tells me all, Doctor. Mr Holmes, you have the gift of obfuscation but your friend here is an open book.’

      I began to think I should place obfuscation on my list of attributes to cultivate.

      ‘This Vidocq, then—’

      ‘Irritating man. He does nothing but fan the flames of fear among my researchers. He comes and goes. I should like to be rid of him.’

      ‘I can well imagine,’ I said.

      ‘Whenever he is here, he attempts to worry me and my researchers with concocted scenarios. I regret burning the letters, Mr Holmes. But that man Vidocq is such a pest. He exaggerates the danger. I wanted him gone and so I scorned the entire idea of any threat and burned them in front of him. He was as angry as you are!’

      ‘Indeed. How close are you to a solution to the phylloxera epidemic, Dr Janvier?’

      ‘Very close.’

      ‘Is that so? Who knows this?’ asked Holmes.

      ‘Any number of people, in the government and elsewhere.’

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘Grafts and hybridization show promise. But at present, we have taken several batches to maturity, and they adversely affect the flavour.’

      ‘Then you have not found the solution. Although as you near it, you may be in more danger.’

      We had rounded a corner and now progressed down another long corridor, this with doors open to reveal laboratories, their rich wood cabinets and slate-topped counters gleaming from the afternoon sun slanting in the windows.

      ‘We may have been looking at the wrong question’ said Holmes. ‘Might there be a more personal motive to stop your work? Have you any rivals who wish to take credit? Anyone you have specifically angered? Anyone who comes to mind that would profit directly and personally from your cure not being advanced?’

      Janvier paused midstride and turned to us. We stopped.

      ‘And there you have me, Mr Holmes. No. My first thought was that someone deeply invested in wines that rival the French might profit. The Americans. The Germans, perhaps the Italians. But I think not. The Americans have been helpful, and the Germans and Italians now face the same plague, though to a lesser degree. Regarding jealous colleagues, I think not. This particular problem has united the larger research community to a remarkable degree.’

      ‘And still Britain may be suspect,’ said Holmes. ‘As Watson mentioned, our whisky business is said to be growing in leaps and bounds.’

      ‘I think as a scientist does. Instinct is perhaps as important in my work as observation and logic. And my instinct tells me this disaster is an accident and nothing more.’

      Holmes nodded. ‘I wonder, could this divisive theory then originate from someone who profits from a deterioration of Franco-British relations?’

      ‘There you exceed my expertise, Mr Holmes,’ said Janvier. He turned and placed a hand on a single, closed door at the end of the hall. It was locked and he felt in his pocket for the keys.

      ‘Back to the letters, Dr Janvier,’ said Holmes. ‘You mentioned there were two curious things. What was the second?’

      Finding the key, Janvier unlocked the door. It swung open with a bang and both Holmes and I jumped, primed for what, I am not sure. What we saw was a complete surprise.

      The room stood vast and empty, a laboratory like the others, but this one was not only devoid of people but of equipment as well. Bright sunshine flooded in from an expanse of windows, and dust motes floated over barren zinc lab tables. Along one end of the room were a row of cardboard boxes, from which protruded various pieces of equipment.

      ‘Ah, mon Dieu!’ said Janvier with an embarrassed laugh. ‘How could I have forgotten! We moved our laboratory to larger quarters in another building only yesterday. I was so engrossed in my story that it completely escaped my mind. We must go to another building!’ He strode through the laboratory to the other end. ‘Follow me, please. It is a shorter way out.’

      ‘You were about to mention СКАЧАТЬ