tomorrow …’
‘Already?’
They weren’t that interested.
Instead, the old woman asked him:
‘You must have been to see the son,
is that right? … What did he say? … What is he planning to do? … Does
he intend to come and take everything away from us?’
‘I don’t know … I
don’t think so …’
‘It would be a disgrace! People as
rich as they are! But then they are usually the ones who …’
The old woman was in a genuine state. The
worry was eating away at her. She looked at all the old stuff lyingabout the room and felt a terrible anguish at the thought of losing it.
And Maigret had his hand on his wallet.
All he had to do was open it, take out a little slip of paper and show it to the two
women …
Would they dance for joy? Would the joy be
too much for the old woman and be the end of her?
Millions and millions! Millions they
couldn’t yet get their hands on, of course, and that they would have to go to
Australia to acquire by means of legal action!
But they would go! He could picture them
sailing off, disembarking from the steamship over there with their noses in the air.
It wouldn’t be Monsieur Petitfils
whose services they would call on, but those of notaries, lawyers, barristers
…
‘I’ll let you get on …
I’ll come by and see you tomorrow …’
His taxi was waiting at the gate. He sat
down without giving an address, and the driver waited, holding the door open.
‘Cannes …’ Maigret
finally said.
And it was the same thoughts that passed
through his mind:
‘Brown was murdered!’
‘No dramas!’
Damn Brown! If the wound had been in his
chest, you could have believed that he killed himself to spite everyone. But you
don’t stab yourself in the back, for heaven’s sake!
He was no longer the one who intrigued
Maigret. The
inspector felt that he knew him as well as if he had been
a lifelong friend.
First of all, William in Australia …
A rich, well-brought-up boy, a little shy, living with his parents, marrying someone
suitable when the time comes and having children …
This Brown was fairly similar to Brown
Junior … He might experience some vague melancholy or troubling desires, but he no
doubt put them down to a passing phase and managed to get them out of his system.
The same William in Europe … The
dykes finally bursting … He could no longer keep everything repressed … He
was driven crazy by all the possibilities on offer to him …
And he became a regular on this boulevard
that runs from Cannes to Menton … A yacht in Cannes … Baccarat games in Nice
… The lot! … And an overwhelming apathy at the thought of returning
back
home
…
‘Next month, maybe
…’
And the following month it was exactly the
same!
So they cut off his allowance. The
brother-in-law kept an eye on things. All the Brown family and all their hangers-on
defended themselves!
He was incapable of leaving his boulevard,
the sweet atmosphere of the Côte d’Azur, the indulgence, the easiness …
No more yacht. A small villa …
In the world of women he had to lower his
standards too, and so he ended up with Gina Martini.
A certain disgust … A need for
disorder and listlessness … The villa at Cap d’Antibes is still too
bourgeois …
He discovered the
Liberty Bar … Jaja … Sylvie …
And he continued the legal action, back
home, against the Browns who had stayed on the rails, to get under their skin … He
used his will to make sure he continued to do so after his death … Whether he was
right or wrong was of no concern to Maigret. Yet the inspector couldn’t help
comparing the father with the son, Harry Brown, so proper and self-possessed, who knew
how to keep things in perspective.
Harry didn’t like mess!
Nevertheless, Harry had troubling needs.
And he installed a mistress in Cap Ferrat
… A very respectable, well-mannered mistress, a widow or divorcee,
‘Already?’
They weren’t that interested.
Instead, the old woman asked him:
‘You must have been to see the son,
is that right? … What did he say? … What is he planning to do? … Does
he intend to come and take everything away from us?’
‘I don’t know … I
don’t think so …’
‘It would be a disgrace! People as
rich as they are! But then they are usually the ones who …’
The old woman was in a genuine state. The
worry was eating away at her. She looked at all the old stuff lyingabout the room and felt a terrible anguish at the thought of losing it.
And Maigret had his hand on his wallet.
All he had to do was open it, take out a little slip of paper and show it to the two
women …
Would they dance for joy? Would the joy be
too much for the old woman and be the end of her?
Millions and millions! Millions they
couldn’t yet get their hands on, of course, and that they would have to go to
Australia to acquire by means of legal action!
But they would go! He could picture them
sailing off, disembarking from the steamship over there with their noses in the air.
It wouldn’t be Monsieur Petitfils
whose services they would call on, but those of notaries, lawyers, barristers
…
‘I’ll let you get on …
I’ll come by and see you tomorrow …’
His taxi was waiting at the gate. He sat
down without giving an address, and the driver waited, holding the door open.
‘Cannes …’ Maigret
finally said.
And it was the same thoughts that passed
through his mind:
‘Brown was murdered!’
‘No dramas!’
Damn Brown! If the wound had been in his
chest, you could have believed that he killed himself to spite everyone. But you
don’t stab yourself in the back, for heaven’s sake!
He was no longer the one who intrigued
Maigret. The
inspector felt that he knew him as well as if he had been
a lifelong friend.
First of all, William in Australia …
A rich, well-brought-up boy, a little shy, living with his parents, marrying someone
suitable when the time comes and having children …
This Brown was fairly similar to Brown
Junior … He might experience some vague melancholy or troubling desires, but he no
doubt put them down to a passing phase and managed to get them out of his system.
The same William in Europe … The
dykes finally bursting … He could no longer keep everything repressed … He
was driven crazy by all the possibilities on offer to him …
And he became a regular on this boulevard
that runs from Cannes to Menton … A yacht in Cannes … Baccarat games in Nice
… The lot! … And an overwhelming apathy at the thought of returning
back
home
…
‘Next month, maybe
…’
And the following month it was exactly the
same!
So they cut off his allowance. The
brother-in-law kept an eye on things. All the Brown family and all their hangers-on
defended themselves!
He was incapable of leaving his boulevard,
the sweet atmosphere of the Côte d’Azur, the indulgence, the easiness …
No more yacht. A small villa …
In the world of women he had to lower his
standards too, and so he ended up with Gina Martini.
A certain disgust … A need for
disorder and listlessness … The villa at Cap d’Antibes is still too
bourgeois …
He discovered the
Liberty Bar … Jaja … Sylvie …
And he continued the legal action, back
home, against the Browns who had stayed on the rails, to get under their skin … He
used his will to make sure he continued to do so after his death … Whether he was
right or wrong was of no concern to Maigret. Yet the inspector couldn’t help
comparing the father with the son, Harry Brown, so proper and self-possessed, who knew
how to keep things in perspective.
Harry didn’t like mess!
Nevertheless, Harry had troubling needs.
And he installed a mistress in Cap Ferrat
… A very respectable, well-mannered mistress, a widow or divorcee,
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