tell you, when the photograph
appeared in the newspaper, Émile didn’t dare go to his office!’
Émile was her husband. Philippe had
inherited his myopic squint.
‘In our part of the world,
it’s not like Paris. Prison is prison. People say that there’s no smoke
without fire. Does he at least have a proper bed with blankets?’
They ate sardines and rounds of
beetroot, and drank a carafe of table wine. From time to time Maigret made an effort
to steer the conversation away from the obsessive topic of Philippe.
‘You know
Émile. He’s very angry with you. He blames you. He says it’s your fault
that Philippe joined the police instead of looking for a good job in a bank. I told
him that whatever will be, will be. By the way, how’s my sister? Not finding
the animals too much work?’
Luncheon lasted a good hour, for
afterwards they had to have a coffee and Philippe’s mother wanted to know
exactly how a prison is built and how the prisoners are treated. They were in the
lounge when the doorman came to inform them that a gentleman wished to speak to
Maigret.
‘Show him in!’
He wondered who it could be and was more
than astonished to see Inspector Amadieu, who greeted Madame Lauer awkwardly.
‘Philippe’s mother,’
said Maigret.
And, to the detective chief
inspector:
‘Shall we go up to my
room?’
They went upstairs in silence. Once
inside the room, the inspector cleared his throat and put down his hat and the
umbrella which never left his side.
‘I thought I’d see you after
the interrogation this morning,’ he began. ‘But you left without saying
a word.’
Maigret watched him without speaking. He
knew that Amadieu had come to make peace, but was not gallant enough to make things
easier for him.
‘Those boys are very good, you
know! I realized it when they were brought face to face with each other.’
He sat down to give an impression of
composure, and crossed his legs.
‘Look, Maigret,
I’ve come to tell you that I’m beginning to share your opinion. You see
that I’m being honest with you and that I bear no ill will.’
But his voice did not sound entirely
natural and Maigret sensed that this was a lesson learned and that Amadieu had not
taken this step of his own accord. After that morning’s interrogations, there
had been a meeting between the chief of the Police Judiciaire and Amadieu, and it
was the chief who had been in favour of Maigret’s theory.
‘Now, I’m asking you: what
should we do?’ said Amadieu solemnly.
‘I have no idea!’
‘Don’t you need my
men?’
Then, suddenly garrulous:
‘I’ll tell you what I
believe. Because I thought long and hard while I was questioning those rogues. You
know that when Pepito was killed, he’d been issued with a summons. We knew
that there was a rather large drugs cache at the Floria. And it was to stop them
from moving the drugs that I had posted an inspector there until the arrest, which
was planned for dawn. Well, the stuff has vanished.’
Maigret appeared not to be
listening.
‘From that, I deduce that when we
lay our hands on it we’ll have the murderer too. I’ve a good mind to ask
the magistrate for a search warrant and to pay a visit to our friend
Cageot.’
‘There’s no point,’
sighed Maigret. ‘The man who masterminded this morning’s face-to-face
confrontation wouldn’t have kept such a compromising package in his home. The
stuff isn’t at Cageot’s, or Eugène’s, nor at thehomes of any of the others. By the way, what did Louis have to say about his
customers?’
‘He swears he’s never seen
Eugène, even less played cards with him. He thinks Audiat might have come in a few
times to buy cigarettes, but he has never spoken to him. As for Cageot, while the
name rings a bell, like everyone in Montmartre, he didn’t know him
personally.’
‘And they didn’t slip up,
appeared in the newspaper, Émile didn’t dare go to his office!’
Émile was her husband. Philippe had
inherited his myopic squint.
‘In our part of the world,
it’s not like Paris. Prison is prison. People say that there’s no smoke
without fire. Does he at least have a proper bed with blankets?’
They ate sardines and rounds of
beetroot, and drank a carafe of table wine. From time to time Maigret made an effort
to steer the conversation away from the obsessive topic of Philippe.
‘You know
Émile. He’s very angry with you. He blames you. He says it’s your fault
that Philippe joined the police instead of looking for a good job in a bank. I told
him that whatever will be, will be. By the way, how’s my sister? Not finding
the animals too much work?’
Luncheon lasted a good hour, for
afterwards they had to have a coffee and Philippe’s mother wanted to know
exactly how a prison is built and how the prisoners are treated. They were in the
lounge when the doorman came to inform them that a gentleman wished to speak to
Maigret.
‘Show him in!’
He wondered who it could be and was more
than astonished to see Inspector Amadieu, who greeted Madame Lauer awkwardly.
‘Philippe’s mother,’
said Maigret.
And, to the detective chief
inspector:
‘Shall we go up to my
room?’
They went upstairs in silence. Once
inside the room, the inspector cleared his throat and put down his hat and the
umbrella which never left his side.
‘I thought I’d see you after
the interrogation this morning,’ he began. ‘But you left without saying
a word.’
Maigret watched him without speaking. He
knew that Amadieu had come to make peace, but was not gallant enough to make things
easier for him.
‘Those boys are very good, you
know! I realized it when they were brought face to face with each other.’
He sat down to give an impression of
composure, and crossed his legs.
‘Look, Maigret,
I’ve come to tell you that I’m beginning to share your opinion. You see
that I’m being honest with you and that I bear no ill will.’
But his voice did not sound entirely
natural and Maigret sensed that this was a lesson learned and that Amadieu had not
taken this step of his own accord. After that morning’s interrogations, there
had been a meeting between the chief of the Police Judiciaire and Amadieu, and it
was the chief who had been in favour of Maigret’s theory.
‘Now, I’m asking you: what
should we do?’ said Amadieu solemnly.
‘I have no idea!’
‘Don’t you need my
men?’
Then, suddenly garrulous:
‘I’ll tell you what I
believe. Because I thought long and hard while I was questioning those rogues. You
know that when Pepito was killed, he’d been issued with a summons. We knew
that there was a rather large drugs cache at the Floria. And it was to stop them
from moving the drugs that I had posted an inspector there until the arrest, which
was planned for dawn. Well, the stuff has vanished.’
Maigret appeared not to be
listening.
‘From that, I deduce that when we
lay our hands on it we’ll have the murderer too. I’ve a good mind to ask
the magistrate for a search warrant and to pay a visit to our friend
Cageot.’
‘There’s no point,’
sighed Maigret. ‘The man who masterminded this morning’s face-to-face
confrontation wouldn’t have kept such a compromising package in his home. The
stuff isn’t at Cageot’s, or Eugène’s, nor at thehomes of any of the others. By the way, what did Louis have to say about his
customers?’
‘He swears he’s never seen
Eugène, even less played cards with him. He thinks Audiat might have come in a few
times to buy cigarettes, but he has never spoken to him. As for Cageot, while the
name rings a bell, like everyone in Montmartre, he didn’t know him
personally.’
‘And they didn’t slip up,
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