Star Chamber Brotherhood by Preston Fleming Read Free Book Online

the way into the cellar. Nancy’s late husband must have paid a small fortune to the contractor who had converted the room into a temperature and humidity-controlled wine cellar, Werner thought. Along the far wall were floor-to-ceiling redwood wine racks, in both bin and column format, while to either side custom-built shelf units held sealed cases of wines as well as individual liquor bottles stored upright. And in the center of the room stood an antique walnut table for wine tasting and a pallet for stacking cases of spirits off the floor.
    Werner moved closer to the shelves and inspected the loose bottles. To his delight, he found rarities that most casual drinkers did not know, but that to cocktail enthusiasts were worth their weight in gold: applejack, anisette, Brazilian cachaça, Campari, crème de cassis, Haitian rhum agricole, Kentucky rye, Lillet, maraschino liqueur, French vermouth and others, along with several spare bottles each of Angostura, Peychaud’s and orange bitters. He duly recorded the name and quantity of each on his inventory sheet.
    Nancy noticed his concentration and soon returned to the kitchen to let him conduct his inventory undisturbed.
    Next Werner turned his attention to the sealed cases of spirits: three full cases each of Crown Royal, Johnny Walker Black, Maker’s Mark, Mount Gay, Absolut, and Beefeater, plus partials. Obviously Mr. Widmer had entertained frequently, which was hardly unusual for a partner in an investment management firm. Judging by the quantities, Mr. Widmer had also been sufficiently canny to collect his supplies before they became scarce. Werner silently blessed the late Mr. Widmer, for it was just this sort of far-sighted hoarder who enabled Frank Werner to make his living.  
      Surveying the wines, Werner found only a few cases that would fetch a respectable price. These were mainly lesser-growth red Bordeaux and two cases of California reserve cabernets. Nancy had warned him in advance that she had already consumed or given to her daughter most of her husband’s better wines, and among the assorted bottles remaining in the racks, nearly all were everyday table wines. Being of pre-Unionist vintage, however, they were still in demand, and the wines alone had been well worth the trip. The fact that neither Nancy nor her daughter ever touched the spirits, was an unforeseen bonus.
    When he had completed the inventory, Werner carried his clipboard upstairs to the kitchen, where he found Nancy Widmer preparing a pot of tea. She invited him to sit at the butcher’s block table in the center of the room.
    “Your husband seems to have had excellent taste, Nancy. You should be pleased that you were able to enjoy the best of what he put away before your move to Northampton. All the spirits in the cellar are quite marketable and I can offer you a good price for them. As for what’s left of the wine, I can fetch a decent price for the five full cases, and I can sell whatever you want to leave me of the rest, but I’m afraid those aren’t worth much.”
    He waited while she poured him a cup of tea, then continued.  
    “Overall, the market for wines has not been healthy this year. Part of the problem is the Unionist propaganda vilifying the Moneymen and their conspicuous consumption. I wish your wines would bring more, but I must defer to the market.”
    Werner removed a summary sheet of his appraisal, pointing out to Nancy the number of bottles of each wine or spirit and indicating his offer per bottle. He used a pocket calculator to verify the total and then underlined the number at the bottom of the summary sheet.
    “This offer remains firm for one week.”
    Nancy Widmer replaced her cup in its saucer, looked hard at the number and sighed.
    “Unfortunately,” Werner continued, “the sort of people who have a taste for fine drinking and the money to pay for it want only the labels that everyone else has heard of. They won’t shell out big money to drink obscure wines