Villa Pinot Noir. Detective

The story of the work of a secret intelligence syndicate, fulfilling orders of competing financial and industrial corporations, regardless of anything, in achieving one hundred percent fulfillment of the contract, fighting not only to please the customer, but also in the name of its own prestige... The intervention of a love affair confuses all the cards, putting the execution of the order in the mainstream of unforeseen and unpredictable circumstances pushing the main character into a whirlwind of events developing on the verge of death, and passionate love...

Chapter 1

- O! How I love women! - Don Pino Nero, took a glass, from the carved table by the fireplace in the living room, filled with seasoned red Barbaresco. Taking a sip, he sat down in a deep leather chair and continued:
- Oh, how I adore female false smiles. Sparkling eyes and cute, cute faces. And adoring women, I despise them, because they become attached, showing all the falsity of their nature. Women shoot with rags at the feet of men who are indifferent to them (a man who swears his love for a woman and flatters her pride does not receive attention, because female pride is not hurt, and a woman with cruel steadfastness does not give a damn about a man, his heart bleeding wound, sleepless nights and tears of suffering). I hasten to immediately cure such sufferers, for I sympathize with them with all my heart.
Don Pino Nero took another sip of the fine Barbaresco wine. Slowly he put his glass on the table. He crossed his legs, making himself more comfortable, and continued to instruct his servant, who was waxing the parquet floor by the fireplace:
- So! In everything, show arrogance to your sympathy, bargain with her, as in the market and sell grains of attention at a higher price, trying to hurt her pride. Since each of them considers itself to be the center of the Universe, one of the most significant of all, and it is impossible not to notice it (all the more so for such a gray little stature and with a bald patch like you, or even worse plump and plump like Jack). And what, a tall, slender, broad-shouldered young man, an athlete, one might say, with insanely blue eyes, rushes at her like a fly to honey, and you don't even honor her with your attention. On the contrary, try not to be the first to express attention. As soon as you give the first signs of attention, everything, everything is gone. To hell with him, that she laughs contagiously with a handsome man, give it to her, it's even good and into your hands. Let her get tired of it. Having bored, he, like any beautiful thing in the hands of a woman, will get bored quickly, and your admirer will soon begin to turn her pretty head around. Here you also need to be at your best, and if the object of your attention has a share of shyness or lack of courage, try to make acquaintance with her interlocutor, and through him you will sell grains of attention at a higher price. And then the struggle will begin. She will try her best to make it on you, I repeat on you, the greatest impression, and her interlocutor will increasingly get stuck, humiliated and eventually become a doormat. And you will reap all the fruits of a woman's being, and she, believe me, for the sake of her holy pride will give everything to you, every last thread and lie down with a doormat, about which you, without hesitation, wipe your feet, no matter how humiliating it may seem to her. God forbid to show a feeling of pity, even for a second, everything is gone. A woman should be a woman and this feeling reinforces a man with her superiority in everything, I repeat, in everything, even if he is fundamentally wrong, of course, if he does not intend to lose her. But it could be different. Well, let's say, if a woman is attached to you like a dog, and she is disgusted with you, worse than a bitter radish, then in no case drive her away from you, otherwise she will not leave, but will harm you in every possible way, may even reach the point of murder or before suicide. In this case, you must swear to her in love, the more, the better. In the end, she will calm down, then she will start to get annoyed by these vows. Further, he will pull his nose above the clouds, start to smarten up and eventually stop paying attention to you as a masculine creature and will run away, I guarantee, run away, even there is no need to drive to another. And you will easily, like after a nightmare, breathe a sigh of relief and spit on her trail with the words; "Go, they say, go, glory to You, the Lord got rid of!" Here are recipes for men on how to lead a woman, regardless of your appearance, age, education, position in society, origin, etc. for this is pride, and even a woman's. And never forget about your destiny, a man should be a man and the first in everything.
The servant suddenly stopped, fixing his gaze at one point, somewhere between the burning logs in the fireplace. It was evident that one preoccupied thought was gnawing at him.
 - What's the matter with you, my dear Renoir? Don Pino Nero asked briskly, carried away by the servant's concern.
 - Oh, senor, would you only know? Would you only know? - having uttered these phrases, the servant again froze, as if rooted to the spot by the fireplace.
 Don Pino Nero, I realized that talking will not help matters. He began to pour wine into an empty glass, which was on the table next to the filled one. Then he took glasses of wine and went to the servant.
 - Take, Renoir, have a drink with me. - He insinuatingly looked into the dull eyes of the servant, then energetically returned to his place, and sat down again in the chair. And he began to watch Renoir with curiosity. The servant took a sip of wine, then drank it incessantly, like drinking water from a mug. It was noticeable that the wine did not make any impression with its exquisite taste. Turning the empty glass in his hand, he put it on the cornice of the fireplace and said, smiling bitterly: - But I knew her from an early age. Rolled her on his knee when she was very little.
 - About whom, are you Renoir?
 - About my cousin Beatrice! She turned sixteen last weeks.
 - So what? Don Pino Nero asked extremely interested.
 - I, after all, remained faithful to her, all this time. All this time. From her early childhood to adulthood.
 Don Pino Nero, this tempter of women's hearts, could not believe his ears. In extreme surprise he asked the servant: - Excuse me, Renoir, but how old are you?
 The servant looked contemptuously at his master, measuring his gaze from head to toe, then covering his mouth with his right hand, realizing that one should not look at such a respected master, and as if apologizing, replied: “Love is submissive to all ages, senor.
 Don Pino Nero's eyes spontaneously shot up in surprise.
 - My dear Renoir, as far as I know, you turned fifty-five this year, didn't you?
 - So what, senor? - dispassionately answered the question with a question Renoir. - I love her anyway!
 - Oh, Renoir, you never cease to amaze me with your youthful temperament and youthful energy.
At these words, Renoir straightened his stooped back, straightened his shoulders and became in his inner imagination twenty years younger, except for bags under his eyes and deep wrinkles in a fan at the temples. His chin, like a pelican's goiter full of prey, trembled with indignation and Renoir said with resentment:
 - I thought Beatrice was a virgin. Immaculate virgin.
 - Come on, Renoir, a young business is not the same. Let's have another drink, but forget your cousin like a bad adventure.
 - What about?! Never! - the eyes of the servant sparkled mischievously with a youthful brilliance, though at once the glance faded and the shoulders sagged, stooping his not young figure.
 Don Pino Nero filled the glasses with wine and brought them to the servant, who stood like an idol by the fireplace. Approaching Renoir, he caught a characteristic smell, familiar to him, which he had to repeatedly encounter.
 - Yes you Renoir cannot now take alcohol and eat herring.
 - And what should I do ?! - the servant exclaimed in despair.
 - Oh, do not be upset, Renoir, I will send you to a good practitioner, he will quickly put you on your feet. Well, for a month or two, look like procedures and your French illness as unprecedented ...

Chapter 2

Renoir conscientiously went to all the procedures that the venereology’s prescribed for him. And, two months later, the servant was already completely healed from the love wound inflicted on him by his cousin Beatrice. He wanted to meet with her and talk about everything at once, and most importantly, tell her about his feelings, so suddenly flashed in his heart. But the cousin was gone. The servants of her apartment, where she lived in Milan, always answered, the same thing, and the same, that the girl had gone to her aunt in Rome and would not appear soon. And the poor old man in love would go to his estate, Don Pino Nero, with his head bowed, and when asked by his master he always answered with sadness that saddles were not suitable for horses, since the workshop in Milan had not yet made a suitable batch. And that he was forced to leave once again with nothing.
 Don Pino Nero, of course, had long been aware of the goods received at the horse harness store, but did not express his awareness, but also joined in this love affair of his servant. And with curiosity, and with keen interest, he began to observe Renoir's intrigue, waiting, and how, after all, this story would end.
 Beatrice, on the other hand, really left for Rome, to appear to her trusted doctor, a gynecologist, who immediately diagnosed her with a French illness and prescribed a course of treatment. The doctor explained to the girl that this disease is different in women than in men and that the treatment of a woman requires a long time of at least six months.
  Aunt Beatrice greeted the unexpected guest not quite cordially, but remembering the promises made to her late sister that she would take care of her daughter, she took him to her apartment. And the girl began to be treated at the expense of Elizabeth's aunt Mary Stuart. The aunt had a good inheritance left by her late husband, who once challenged his wife's lover to a duel and died there. So Elizabeth, who, by the way, was twenty years younger than her deceased husband, did not need the funds accurately calculated by the bank as interest on the capital of the deceased husband. Stewart, knowing the waste of his wife, left an inheritance without the right to dispose of the capital for twenty years, and only withdraw interest, on which Elizabeth now lives.
  So, poor lover Renoir, he lost not only his appetite, but also his sleep. At night he tossed and turned in bed, often got up and looked at the full moon like a lone wolf. He wanted to howl with longing for a young and energetic person. He recalled their passionate kisses in the moonlight in the far park arbor on the estate of her uncle Don Pino Nero. Oh, what a night they were ...
And Beatrice, in turn, recalled the passionate Renoir, so skillful in love games, in comparison with the groom Jean. She saw this Jean as soon as she appeared at her uncle's. His broad-shouldered figure and slender waist spoke of the guy's remarkable strength. He had strong and large hands, accustomed to hard peasant labor, and large green eyes, in which an ardent nature immediately drowned, Beatrice. And that evening she was in his arms. And how awkward this dork turned out to be. He quickly fell off and fell asleep on a haystack, and Beatrice spent most of the night under the stars, bored, admiring his nakedness and muscular chiseled figure, like a museum piece in the Museum of Art in Rome. Renoir is another matter. He did not let her breathe from lovemaking all night. And Beatrice recalled every detail of their meeting. So she went to him in his closet, where he often held her in his arms when she was still very young.
 Renoir immediately sat her down on his lap and, as in childhood, began to swing on his knees. And suddenly they both discovered that she was no longer small, and Renoir felt that he was holding an adult girl on his lap. Out of surprise, he wanted to put her on the floor, but an ardent Beatrice suddenly threw her neck around him, pressed her plump lips to his mouth, and Renoir lost his head. He woke up only in bed, where in the morning his cousin slept next to him with a blissful smile. He, without moving, admired the young creature, these scattered locks of brown hair on the pillow, inhaled the aroma emanating from her blooming nature, and completely lost his head. Beatrice opened her eyes. Without uttering a word, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and they merged again in love ecstasy ...
 Oh, this stupid illness, the reward of the groom, who now seemed so lumpy and rude compared to her aged cousin Renoir, and at the same time turned out to be such a skillful lover. Yes, to be sure, everything is learned in comparison ...
  Beatrice, while she was undergoing treatment in Rome, counted not only the days, but also the hours, burning with impatience, to meet again with the servant of her uncle Don Pino Nero, her cousin Renoir. She felt comfortable knowing that Renoir was living with her uncle, who had taken in a bankrupt relative, taking him into his service, and that a trip to Don Pino Nero would not raise any suspicion of her connection, condemned in the environment of Elizabeth's aunt Mary Stuart.

Chapter 3

  "Hello, my dear uncle! Your niece, Beatrice is writing to you. You were probably surprised at my hasty departure, but there were very good reasons for this. I had to do this because of a very intimate gift that your Jean gave me. I do not understand, dear uncle one, from where and where did you find this ridiculous monster, everything inside is moldy, like a forest stump from a felled aspen about twenty years ago ... ".
 Don Pino Nero looked up for a moment from reading the letter. In his imagination, the Duomo Square appeared near the Cathedral, where a very handsome guy was sitting on the porch in shabby clothes.
Don Pino Nero wondered where he could see him? And suddenly a museum of antique sculptures of the Sforzesco castle appeared inside, which he was struck by the sculpture of Apollo. A skilled craftsman carved the figure of a young man from a single piece of white marble. In great detail, to the smallest detail, he depicted every line and fold of the body, as if the sculpture was alive. There was not a fake feeling that the figure depicted in marble suddenly came to life, turning into the flesh of a young man, and it was not at all arbitrary that he climbed onto the pedestal and now, in another minute, he would jump off and just leave naked on the streets of Milan, not embarrassed by his nakedness, because the perfection of the physique cannot be shy. But Apollo himself sits in front of him on a stone square in torn clothes and begs for alms.
 - What is your name? - Stepping closer, asked Don Pino Nero. The young man slowly got up from the sidewalk and insolently, looking into the eyes of the se;or, answered the question with a question:
 - And what of this to you?
 - You have to answer when respected people ask you.
 - Well, Jean. - Huddled into a ball, like a hunted and hungry dog, Jean answered suddenly in a drooping voice.
 - You have not eaten normal food for a long time? Don Pino Nero asked.
 Jean, silently, stared with his huge green eyes, and loudly swallowed the saliva that had run up from hunger.
 - Come on, I'll buy you dinner.
 Jean blushed like a girl, then, timidly asked: - What services should I do you for dinner?
 - You, that you want to offend me, eh, young man?
 - No, I'm just used to paying off debts! - the guy stubbornly repeated.
 - Well, then consider that I hire you. We’ll go to my villa, you’ll look after the horses, you’ll eat for this and receive a monthly salary. Well, do you agree? - Don Pino Nero looked closely at the guy. He did not hesitate for a minute, but only looked at the lord with disbelief.
 - Who would refuse such an offer. Of course I agree ...
 Don Pino Nero smiled and began to read the letter further: - "So that by my arrival and the spirit of your Jean, if you, dear guardian uncle, still want to see me in our charming villa. Loving you, with all your heart, Beatrice."
 Don Pino Nero put the letter aside on his desk. I took the bell in my hand and called. Renoir appeared at the door.
 - Immediately call Jean for me. Let him come here!
 - Good senor. - And the office door closed noiselessly.
 After about five minutes Jean appeared.
 - Have you called me, sir? the newcomer asked with an imperturbable look.
 Don Pino Nero examined the groom who had entered. From head to toe, measuring with his penetrating gaze. From this attentive look, the yellowness under the eyes of Jean and the lethargy in movements did not disappear.
 - "Yes, there is a whole bunch of love wounds without the collapsible use of this drink of passion." - Don thought.
 - "What to do with him?" Don Pino Nero looked at the groom for a minute. This made Jean feel uncomfortable, and he was about to ask something, as Don started first:
 - Where did you pick up the French girl?
 - Excuse me, sir, I do not quite understand who you mean?
 - The sexually transmitted disease that you carry in yourself? Don Pino Nero asked dispassionately. Jean flushed with shame. Then he said resentfully:
- On what basis, you senor, ask me about it? - Jean asked with undisguised resentment.
 - Here, take it. Don Pino Nero thrust a piece of paper into the groom. - This is the address of the doctor. Tell him I'll pay for your treatment.
 - Why? I am well! cried the groom angrily. - You are laughing at me? - Jean asked sincerely, indignantly.
 - Not at all. - Don answered seriously, and added, - If you think that there is no reason to see a doctor, then you no longer work for me.
 - No, no, what are you? Of course, I will show myself and accept all his recommendations.
 - Well, that's a completely different matter. Renoir will work in your place during your absence. Go!
  Jean went out into the spacious hallways of the house, and quickly ran down the steps of the porch, found himself on a lawn with neatly trimmed grass. In his hands was a piece of paper with the doctor's address. He turned the address over in his hands, not knowing what to do with it. Jean could neither read nor, there more, write at the age of 26. He had no choice but to turn to Renoir for help, to explain where this hospital is. Coming up with an excuse, he walked confidently into the annex to Don Pino Nero's house, where the servants lived. On the threshold appeared the washerwoman Faustina with a basin full of wet linen.
 - Ma'am, tell me, where can I find Renoir?
 - Decent people, first they greet, and then they ask. - Faustina answered insistently, shaking her immense body charms, approaching Jean.
 - Hello ma'am! - corrected the groom, and added, - So, where is Renoir?
 - Senor sent him to the stable. So what, you got fired? - A curious light burns in Faustino’s eyes.
 - Oh, you need to know everything?! - Jean threw as he walked, heading towards the stables ...

Chapter 4

    Two months after that, Jean came to Don Pino Nero's office without warning. The senior carefully examined the silent groom, then, breaking the silence of the office, asked:
 - You enter, without greeting and without warning about your appearance, as to your home?
 - Excuse me, senor, but I grew up without parents, and I was raised by the street.
 - Anyway. So what brings you to interrupt treatment so quickly?
 - The doctor said that I am already absolutely healthy and can work.
 Don Pino Nero probingly began to look with his burning black eyes into the green, like two grapes, the eyes of the young man. He could not stand his gaze, lowered his eyes, and, finding a crack on the parquet floor, began to peer into the blackness of the parquet speck.
"Yes, for sure the money I gave him for treatment, so he galloped up to me as a stallion. - Don Pino Nero thought, - Well, what to do with it?"
 This was followed by a long silent scene. Jean stood staring at the floor, while Don Pino Nero was quickly scribbling something on a piece of writing paper. When he finished writing, he folded the sheet in half and stuffed it into an envelope. Having sealed the envelope, he signed it and carefully sealed it with a sealing wax seal with the outline of the family coat of arms of Don Pino Nero. Then he blew out the spirit lamp to warm up the sealing wax. He took the envelope and handed it to Jean with the words:
 “Take this envelope to my friend, Corporal Fellini. He serves in the Guards Cavalry Regiment of Milan. The corporal will assign you to service at my request. There you will receive training and primary school courses. The further career will depend only on you. And remember, nature has endowed you with masculine virtues that will help you achieve everything in life, if you skillfully use them. Jean with sincere amazement went to the writing-table and took the envelope from the senor's hands. He was about to leave, then at the door turned sharply and said:
 - Excuse me, senor, I almost lost my head from your proposal and forgot to thank you from the bottom of my heart.
 - Let it be for you, Jean. - Moved by Don Pino Nero. - Go, serve, I dare to remind you that the corporal and you have similar fates. Like you, he grew up without parents, this should play a role. He will like you, in a letter I wrote to him about your origin.
 Jean, red with embarrassment, ran out into the street and raced along the embankment of the Milan Grand Canal towards the guards barracks.
 And Don Pino Nero at this time was sitting at his writing desk in thought, trying to collect his thoughts, when the door quietly opened slightly and Renoir's head stuck his head through the gap in the door. The senor glanced in his direction.
 - What do you want?
 - Nothing special. But I wanted to ask when should I return to my direct duties as a room servant?
 - Wait a little longer. - Don answered, trying to get Renoir off. But the servant had already entered the office and said.
 - You see, senor, I just saw Jean, and I thought that he was already in the service.
 - Dear Renoir, Jean no longer serves here. We will wait for the new groom. I asked in a letter to Corporal Fellini to send instead of Jean. He has retired grooms with extensive experience in serving and caring for horses, so everything will be fine. - Don Pino Nero looked expectantly at the servant, trying to understand why he was not leaving?
 - And when will we return to Madrid? - it was evident from everything that Renoir missed the company of the lord, and he did not really want to return to the horsey smell of the stables in a suburban villa.
 Don Pino Nero mentally returned to Madrid. Pictures of hasty fees and flight from pursuing creditors arose in my memory. On the Spanish border, he was released from the country without any problems. The dispatch about his accounts payable had not yet reached the border officials, and this was, by the way, since Beatrice's father died in Milan, having issued her guardianship of Don Pino Nero, and there, according to his will, he got a suburban villa and an apartment in the center of Milan with access to Cathedral Duomo square. And the entire estate and winery with extensive vineyards, of course, when Beatrice reaches the age of eighteen, will pass to her. Of course, he could sell his now inherited property and pay off his creditors, but the paradise of the suburbs and the center of Milan forever fascinated him, and he gave his word to himself that he would never, under any circumstances, leave Italy, and this center of world fashion Milan ... Where is the world famous "Teatro Alla Scala", a magnificent gallery with shopping stalls and a Renaissance art museum, and the city of Milan itself, which has turned into a world treasury of fashion, which can be inferior, and then only, in some respects, to Paris. With this thought, Don Pino Nero sighed and said to the servant:
 - Come back Jack to my villa and wait for me there. I'll finish my business in Milan soon and be back. I think and hope I will bring a new groom. Until then, stay there instead of Jean.
 - And what about Beatrice? - did not appease Renoir.
 - And what about Beatrice? - Don Pino Nero answered with a question, knowing full well what Renoir was worried about. - Do you want to ask when she will be with us?
 - Well, yes. - Renoir asked with keen interest. Don Pino Nero was deliberately playing for time without answering the servant. Then, from the restless behavior of the servant, he realized that it was precisely for this that Renoir had arrived in Milan, and in order not to torment him with ignorance, he replied:
- Niece wrote to me. In the letter she promised that she would come to me, but when she did not write, not a word. Having said this, Don Pino Nero glanced at the servant. He blushed like a young boy in love, smiled and said quietly, - Yes, of course I will wait for her arrival.
 - And what did you have with her, something? - depicting naivety in his voice, asked Don.
 - Yes! I reported to you in detail about everything. The servant repeated fervently.
 - So is that you?
 - Yes, I love her and I will love her! - Renoir nodded his head in the affirmative, closing the office door behind him.
 - Here is a rogue! - laughing, Don Pino Nero said to himself, and added, - We'll see about that.

 Chapter 5

 Sitting in his office, in the Milan apartment donated by Don Pino Nero by his late brother, Father Beatrice, he reflected on such an unexpected inheritance and, most importantly, on guardianship of his niece until she came of age. Meanwhile, this prospect of owning the estate, albeit for two years, did not inspire him. Together with the salvation from the creditors of Madrid, this inheritance fell like a snow on his head unexpectedly and was not expected. And the first thing that came to mind was how to save oneself from the hassle of running such a troublesome economy, consisting of wine cellars, vineyard plantations and a wine bottling plant. Among other things, in Milan there was also a store selling wine of a special Barbaresco brand and this store belonged to the family of the young Beatrice in a single person, in a word, now sponsored by Don Pino Nero. A pile of papers fell on Don’s poor head, to which he was obliged to give answers to numerous buyers of wine products, to supply supplies to different cities, buy various fertilizers, keep track of bills and expenses, and so on, and so on ...
 In the end, he took his head with both hands and sat motionless for a full hour since the moment Renoir left the office. His gaze slid over a pile of important papers, scattered chaotically on the table, covering an inkwell in the form of two lion heads with cut skulls, and settled on a pen with a steel nib and Beatrice's letter in beautiful handwriting. It was necessary to answer, the future mistress of a multimillion-dollar inheritance, bringing a solid income. That was given by the collection wines stored in the cellars since the time of the capture of Italy by Napoleon Bonaparte, and from the sale of young wines of special grape varieties that grow here in the northern provinces of Italy.
 Don hesitated to answer. I just didn’t know where to start, what to answer to the young ardent creature who did not yet fully realize who she was now and what awaits her in a year and ten months, when she turns eighteen. Of course, the cunning Renoir hopes that he managed to wrap a carnal spell on this who still does not understand her powerful forces, which female beauty is endowed with by nature. And if this beauty, moreover, is fertilized with a solid state, then a terrible explosive mixture is obtained that can drive crazy more than one contender for the heart of the young goddess of love pleasures. Don Pino Nero understood this like no one else. Now he still had to save such a loving creature from heart mistakes. After an hour of reflection, a plan of action began to emerge, not yet so clear, but still. Don was suggested by his mind to divide this heap of worries into two parts. The first part, and the most important at this time, is to find a good manager of an extensive farm. But where can I get it? The second part is the young heiress Beatrice, the bonds of trouble for education are now entrusted with full responsibility to him.
  Having broken the nearest activity into two parts, he suddenly felt relief, as if the conduction had taken his side and now it was already easily and understandably leading him through the worldly whirlpool of worries. Thoughts brought him back to the recent past, to Madrid. He suddenly remembered the carnival in the royal palace of Madrid and the beautiful stranger with whom fate brought him on that memorable night when she, tightly squeezing his hand, led him to a secret apartment and, without removing her mask, spent a passionate night with him.
  Returning mentally to that magical night, he remembered her skin. His imagination touched her body, he felt that he was touching the finest silk, and for the eye it was an indescribable pleasure. Playing in the glare of candles, exuding the aroma of love nectar, her hot body, the charms of which reminded him of the hot beauty of a summer day, rich in flowers and fruits, delightfully refreshed by morning dew. The beauty's turquoise eyes sparkled in the glare of candles, shone with angelic beauty. The very heavenly turquoise looked at him at that moment from velvety light chestnut tones, the extremely soft outlines of such a skillfully matched mask to her oblong oval face. The mask did not hide the thin aquiline nose, which testified to the high, almost royal, origin of this daughter of the night carnival. An endlessly friendly smile, and like the morning dew sparkling with pearls among rose petals, her lips painted her with the white radiance of even teeth. Golden-haired curls of silky hair fell to the maiden's rounded charms, and the glow of candles burned in them, arousing sensual impulses of passion ...

Chapter 6

 The competition between winemakers of the South of Italy and the North has been known since the time of Julius Caesar. But the result of this struggle always remained the North, since vineyards grew in the northern provinces of Italy, giving more tart varieties of wines, which, over time, turned into varieties with softer shades of taste, laying out the liberated subtle aromas hidden in young wine, which are suppressed by astringency ... However, there are also more affordable red wines in Piedmont. The popular wine is from the Barbera variety, which occupies the largest planting area of the red Piedmont grapes. Barbera wines are juicy, fruity and very gastronomic. And for this reason, in those distant times, Julius Caesar himself made a preference for red wine from the Barbera grape variety. In the south of Lombardy is the Oltrepo Parese wine zone, which mainly supplies plain white and red wines to the bars and trattorias of Milan. Among them, however, there are also interesting examples - especially the red ones from the Barbera variety belonging to the Pinot Nero estate and white sparkling ones according to the traditional technology. Limestone soils, a region similar to the terroirs of Burgundy and Champagne, ideal for growing the most versatile and capricious Nebbiolo, the pride and glory of Piedmont, giving the great wines of the world of Barolo and Barbaresco. Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay and merlot, which were brought from France, also feel great here. The local Rieslings are also known for their excellent quality. A family legend that exists in the house of Don, even during the reign of the kings of Spain, says that once the king of France, Louis XIV, traveled through Northern Italy and stopped in these parts on the way to Rome. He brought here as many shoots of grape vines from which the famous French Burgundy wine is made. Louis XIV donated these sprouts to a local winemaker from Spain. And he named the grape variety by his name, Pinot Nero. Plantations of Barbera grapes and Pinot Nero varieties are now under the care of Don Pinot Nero. And he had no idea what to do with this, and from this he was overwhelmed with anxiety and nervousness. It was necessary to urgently look for the estate manager of the late brother Pino Nero, so that the bonds of the management of the farm could be immediately betrayed to him under the contract of employment. Don Pino Nero understood that the old manager needed to be fired because of the numerous complaints that came to him in the letters of his brother, who threatened to fire this loafer and parasite skillfully robbing poor Pino. Don Pino Nero often wrote to his brother to immediately free his farm from the villainous manager. But my brother was afraid to do it, why? Don Pino Nero still had to find out. And he summoned his trusted private detective from Madrid, who warned in advance and in time about the action of Madrid's creditors, which threatened Don with a debt prison. Samuel Castilla arrived at the Villa Pino Nero in Piedmont, where Don Pino Nero was already waiting for him. The office of the late owner of the estate was located on the second floor of the two-story mansion. The furnishings of the office were more like the furnishings of an apartment in Milan. A similar fireplace could be seen in the middle of the wall of the room opposite the entrance to the study. A carved table next to two comfortable leather armchairs. And next to the fireplace is a bar with a collection of renowned Italian brands of red wines produced on the estate. The atmosphere of the office immediately set the visitor invited to this office to the business tone of the conversation in order to conclude mutually beneficial deals for the supply of wines. In this respect, the late Senor Pinot Nero surpassed the competitors not only of winemakers from Northern Italy, but also aroused the envy of wine producers in the South of Italy. Managing competitive interests, the estate manager skillfully took advantage of himself and numerous accomplices who ensure their well-being and prosperity. Don Pino Nero, an experienced rake and reveler, could not, do not have appropriate guesses on this score, which is why Samuel Castilla appeared here.
 - So, - began Don Pino Nero, instead of Castilla's welcoming speeches, - try, dear friend, this wine, thirty years old, because the new year has just begun.
 - Barbaresco, somewhat reminiscent of merlot, with its astringency. - answered Samuel.
 - Not certainly in that way. This astringency goes away gradually over the years of aging, giving way to softness and the release of the fragrant scent of a rose. It turns out a divine drink, like Burgundy wine, but much superior to it in its secret, which, unfortunately, my brother took away with him. - Answered Don Pino Nero, arousing the curiosity of Samuel Castilla.
 - And what is this secret? the detective asked with lively interest, examining the ruby color of a filled glass in the light. His black, watchful eyes studied the glass as if it were evidence to prove in court.
 - My stepbrother added a special composition of aromatic herbs to a barrel of young Barbaresco wine, which gave the drink, along with a natural improvement in qualities, an acquisition of a different property.
 - And the commercial value depended on this?
 - Wine became the drink of both sexes, both for men and women.
 - And, I understand, acquired the properties of a love potion? Samuel guessed.
 - Of course. And, what is most interesting, Barbaresco is exactly the bottling of the Villa Pinot Nero, preferred by wholesalers in comparison with other producers of the same wine and the same aging. That is why my half-brother Pino made so many ill-wishers among competitors, because he did not want to share the secret of the production of this unique aged red wine.
 - Well, now everything is finally clear to me who this manager is. - Taking a sip from the glass, Castilla said, admiring the taste and aroma of the excellent drink.
 - How can you understand when you have just arrived? - Don Pino Nero was surprised.
 - Before I come to you, dear friend, come here, - he took another sip with undisguised pleasure, - I received information on some inquiries, made inquiries about this Fernando. And he found out that he served with a Seville winemaker. And not only did he serve, he was also his closest relative. To resolve the issue of a competitor, he got a job with your brother as an accountant, as he knew the wine industry well, and it didn't cost him anything to quickly advance in the service, win the favor of the owner of Pinot Nero and then poison him, eliminating the competitor from the market of expensive wines. And what is most interesting in this story Fernando Rossini died three years ago, and this manager appeared three years ago at your brother's service under the name and surname of the late gentleman.
 - Why did you decide that my stepbrother was poisoned by a crook?
 - During the autopsy, it was found that he was poisoned with arsenic mixed into the wine. And since there were no suspected criminals, and I suspect that the police were bribed with a hefty bribe, and the case was not opened on the fact of the murder. Pino was single, no motive for the murder was found, and the case was closed due to lack of evidence. So, my dear friend, I advise you to forget about the existence of this Fernando as soon as possible and find a new manager. - I do not know anything about the production of wines, and even more so I cannot be guided by the professional qualities of candidates for this position. That is why I invited you as a confidant. You can not only figure out the murder of my stepbrother, but also find a good manager. Oh, by the way, and to intercede, before the Milan police department, to declare the false Fernando Rossini wanted as a dangerous criminal. Everything you need, a servant, a crew, money, everything will be at your disposal. I have opened an account in your name at the Bank of Milan, please just find me a new farm manager. That this person was independent from other wine producers and his interests were directed towards our production. Please, by spring, so that a new manager can be found. I trust you Samuel. Stay at Villa Pino Nero, and I have to be away on important business. I'll be back in early March; I will knowingly notify you by telegram about my arrival ...

Chapter 7

    At exactly two o'clock Venetian time, the gondola moored at the pier of the island of St. Samuel, delivering a young man of about thirty. His head was crowned with a black hat with a straight brim, pulled over a high forehead, decorated with multi-colored feathers. Black eyes sparkling with energy, an aquiline nose, a neat black mustache and beard accentuated the mouth of a charming design. He was wearing a short black velvet frock coat made of expensive fabric, fastened with large silver buttons. A red neckerchief framed his sturdy neck. On long and slender legs, black, polished to a shine shoes with silver buckles, tall graceful leggings and pantaloons in dark gray teak. The swarthy complexion and the attire skillfully matched gave him a resident of the South of Spain, who had arrived here in Venice for the annual carnival celebration. On the side, the sword complemented the outfit, and the thin fingers of the strong left hand held its hilt when the young man got out of the gondola and stepped onto the stone pavement pier in this carnival outfit. His further path lay in the casino of the impeccable reputation of the island of St. Samuel. It was Don Pino Nero. He arrived at the Venice Carnival with one and only purpose, to meet that mysterious stranger who managed to so unceremoniously wound his heart hardened in love victories there in Spain, when she carried him away from the carnival of the Royal Palace of Madrid. A heart that did not know defeat in the temptation of the opposite sex and easily parted with the object of its momentary adoration, having achieved the desired carnal satisfaction, superiority and sensual highest pleasure of a hunter for a lady who fell into the cunning snares of love temptations. Don Pino Nero arrived in Venice for the opening of the Carnival and made sure not to hide his face behind a mask, so that he was recognized by the adored blonde woman with her zloty hair, who so unceremoniously and badly wounded him in the heart. He knew and felt her presence here and by some subconscious instinct prompted to him from above that sooner or later their meeting would take place right here at the carnival in Venice. Almost six have passed since the opening of the carnival on the square in front of the Doge's Palace. Having lost all hope of meeting this mysterious creature in female guise, he decided to dispel his hunting addictions to this passion of unknown bliss, to forget and how to have fun. But where, then, to go, to the theater? One? No, he could not afford such humiliation of "Don Pino Nero and one" to himself. What will those who know him from past exploits in conquering women's hearts say? That his secret followers would gossip, about whom he neither sleep nor spirit, knew nothing, but he was sure that his admirers were on his heels. And they watch his actions, since the manner of Don Pino Nero is a dogma, this is the style of seduction that so flawlessly and strongly affects the object of their adoration, and from which there is no salvation for any female evasion, not a single female whim that would not give a chance to gain the location that a man adores her.
 And Don Pino Nero, with a bored face, of course, feigned fatigue from amorous pleasures, decided to go alone to a gambling house, in a word, to a casino. In order to get to the world famous gambling house, located almost in the very center of Venice, it was necessary to go by a gondola through the central canal (Canal Grand).
 Exactly in the middle of the city, get out of the gondola in the most prestigious place of the gambling establishment, which is located in the Palazzo Vendramin-Calergi. And, of course, plunge into the world of card and roulette games, and players throwing money to the right and to the left, preferring games for money over other entertainments of fate in this Mecca of the Venice carnival. Don Pino Nero rummaged in his pockets and, finding there 5,000 Euros in cash (the equivalent of the local currency, for the modern reader), decided, with feigned confidence of a gambler, to let off steam by playing roulette. In addition to this money, his "Visa" bank card contained a hefty sum of three million euros, which he had transferred in advance before leaving for Venice on his card from the general fund for the development of the estate of Pino Nero. So, Don Pino Nero did not need funds not only for the game, but also for the sweet pleasures in the Venetian Mecca of the carnival.
 The gondolier moored his gondola with a single passenger right at the entrance to the casino that occupied the ancient Vendramin palace. Don Pino Nero gave him 50 Euros and another small change that he felt in his pockets. To which the charioteer of the gondola blossomed into a friendly white-toothed smile and expressed his respect, saying in Italian:
 - Oh, sir, you are so generous, as not all tourists can afford it, and we cannot work at our own loss. These municipal levies in the form of taxes are not decreasing, but, on the contrary, every year the end is growing, and the edge is not visible.
 Don Pino Nero felt uneasy, and for the sake of decency he answered the gondolier.
 - But, you are given subsidies. The municipality is not indifferent to your business. This is the face and prestige of Venice, which ultimately brings solid revenues to the treasury, isn't it? Don’s better not answer. Stepping on the sore corn of taxing every gondolier here in this city on the water.
 - Far from it. We spend a lot of our money on the repair and maintenance of our business. Of course, there are no big profits, but our work is not based on this, we are not working for this, we are working for the prestige of our Venetian Republic, one might say, with patriotic motives and excitement in the name of art ... - He also said something, but Don Pino Nero was no longer listening to him.
 Foyer of the casino. Then he was greeted by the porter with a pleasant, prepossessing smile, showed him where the gambling halls for poker, roulette, slot machines and eateries are located, and cash desks for each hall in order to easily and comfortably exchange any types of currencies for gambling chips. Thanking him, Don Pino Nero stopped at the cashier of the roulette hall and exchanged five thousand Euros for ten chips of five hundred Euros each.
  In the hall, he chose the roulette table with the maximum bets, where the minimum bet on the field is indicated at 500 Euros. There were no players at this table. He walked up to the table, the croupier in a snow-white shirt, straightened up, welcoming the player, and immediately started the roulette wheel, inviting him to place bets. Don Pino Nero mechanically, sitting down at the gambling table, laid out all ten chips on red, not realizing that the game was already underway, and the nimble croupier quickly said: - Bets are placed! No more bets!
 After these words, the croupier was not allowed to remove chips from the field. And Don Pino Nero had no choice but to sit and wait for the spin to end. Jack, having skipped several cells on the roulette wheel, jumped into the cell with the number "1-red", then jumped into the cell "33-black", and finally froze on the edge of the cell between the numbers "33, and 16". After standing there for two seconds, lazily, as if reluctantly, fell into the "16-red" cell.
 The croupier, with an unperturbed view of the red field, placed the winning two stacks of ten chips against a stack of ten chips. So, Don Pino Nero won 10 thousand Euros for this spin. He removed all the chips outside the gambling field. And he began in thought to observe the rotation of the wheel and the movement of Jack. Players began to gather behind Don Pino Nero. First came one pair in masks and Harlequin costumes with wooden swords on their left side. And another lady appeared in a gold "Columbine" mask, crowned with feathers, not hiding the graceful oval of the lady's face and golden hair falling to her shoulders. Don Pino Nero, somewhat discouraged by the big win, sat at the table, hesitating to place a bet. Harlequin appeared next to him and, taking out of his wide trousers with a brown strip, ten chips worth ten thousand Euros each, unceremoniously, under the approving smiles of the audience, put everything on the black field. The croupier started spinning the roulette wheel and Jack with the magic words: - Bets are placed, there are no more bets!
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