A Long Finish - 6 Read Online Free

rate. As for the presence of a menstruating woman, forget it! The whole business of wine is full of that sort of lore. I both believe and disbelieve, but with an investment like this I can’t afford to take chances.’
    Giulio closed and locked the massive door giving into the vaults and led the way up a long, winding staircase and through an archway leading to the ground floor of the palazzo . They passed through several suites of rooms to the book-lined study where he had received Zen on the latter’s arrival, and gestured him into the armchair which he had occupied earlier.
    ‘As I was saying, the idea that I’m collecting the Vincenzo wine of this year – assuming there is any – for my own benefit is, of course, absurd. If the vintage is even half as good as has been predicted, it will not be remotely approachable for ten years, and won’t reach its peak for another ten. By which time I will be, if not defunct, at least “sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything”, as Shakespeare says.’
    ‘Then why should you care?’ demanded Zen, lighting a cigarette, which induced another massive fit of coughing. The other man eyed him keenly.
    ‘Do you have children, dottore ?’
    ‘No. That’s to say … Yes. One.’
    ‘Boy or girl?’
    ‘A boy. Carlo.’
    ‘How old?’
    There was a long pause.
    ‘He’s just a baby,’ Zen replied at length.
    ‘Congratulations! But they grow up rapidly. Hence my interest in this year’s Vincenzo wines. I have two sons, both in the most repulsive period of their teens. At present they regard my interest in wine as just another example of their father’s dotage. If they drink at all, it’s some obscure brand of imported beer, although Luca at least shows promising signs of becoming a collezionista about that, too, hunting down limited-release Trappist brews and the like.’
    He set about the meticulous business of cutting and lighting a massive cigar.
    ‘I believe – I have to believe – that in time they will come to appreciate what I have bequeathed them, and perhaps even set about extending the cellar far into the next millennium as a heritage for their own children.’
    A triumphant puff of blue smoke.
    ‘But that is to look too far into the future. For the moment, all that concerns me is this harvest! Unless we act now, the grapes will either be sold off to some competitor or crudely vinified into a parody of what a Vincenzo wine could and should be.’
    Aurelio Zen tried hard to look suitably concerned at this dire prospect.
    ‘But what can I do about it?’ he asked. ‘If the son is already under arrest …’
    ‘I don’t believe for a moment that he did it,’ the famous director exclaimed impatiently.
    Zen produced a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.
    ‘Nevertheless, I’ve been given to understand that the Carabinieri have concluded their investigation. They have pressed charges against Manlio Vincenzo and the case is now in the hands of the judiciary. I don’t see where I come in.’
    His host exhaled a dense barrage of smoke.
    ‘Perhaps you should be more concerned about where you go out,’ he said.
    Zen frowned.
    ‘Go out? You mean, from this house?’
    For the first time, Giulio smiled with what appeared genuine amusement.
    ‘No, no! All appearances to the contrary, I am not planning to immure you in some lost recess of my cellars. Nevertheless, a not dissimilar fate might well await you.’
    He eyed Zen keenly.
    ‘I refer to your next professional posting.’
    ‘That is a matter of departmental policy,’ Zen replied, drawing on his cigarette.
    Another smile, a shade more meaningful.
    ‘Exactly. And in that regard I wish to draw your attention to various facts of which you are aware, and to another which is as yet privileged information. I shall be brief. Firstly, the current Minister is a man of the Left. Many of his friends and associates in the former Communist Party dedicated their lives to the struggle