CHAPTER 11She was waiting in the crumbling remnants of a small Romanesque chapel beside the driveway, quite close to the chateau but hidden from it in a beech grove.
All that was left of the chapel was a section of the nave wall and part of an oven-vault chancel. Gabrielle Lemaire stood in the shelter of the vault, wearing her raincoat and hat. When I stopped the car she dodged through the rain and slid in beside me. As I drove out of the trees and across the bare vineyards toward the forested hills on the limits of the estate I glanced at her coat and hat. The only rain spots on them had been acquired between the chapel and my car.
“How did you get from the house to there? A tunnel?”
“Yes. There are a lot of them under these grounds.” That wasn’t strange. The subsurface of the entire p
