My Friend Maigret by Georges Simenon Page B

of the way with him.
    Then the dentist, in his turn, had left.
    â€œYou’ll see. You’ll see!” he had repeated to Maigret, as he predicted for him a speedy onset of Porquerollitis.
    Charlot, who had had enough of the crane, had gone to sit jockey-style on a chair, next to the checkers game, and, silently, had pointed out one or two moves to Ginette. Once Monsieur Émile had left, he had gone up to bed. As for Ginette, she seemed to be waiting for Maigret’s permission. In the end she had come over to his table and murmured, with a little smile:
    â€œStill cross with me?”
    She was visibly tired, and he had advised her to go up to bed. He had gone up straightaway after her, because the idea had come to him that she might be going to join Charlot.
    At one moment, when he was trying to go to sleep—but perhaps he was already asleep and it was only a dream?—he had had the impression that he had discovered a really important fact.
    â€œI mustn’t forget it. It is essential that I should remember it tomorrow morning.”
    He had all but got up and made a note of it on a piece of paper. It had come to him in a flash. It was very odd. He was pleased. He kept repeating to himself:
    â€œAbove all, I mustn’t forget it in the morning!”
    And the flushing of the lavatory once more set the Arche resounding with its racket. Afterwards there were ten minutes of listening to the water slowly flowing back into the cistern. It was exasperating. The noise was becoming louder. There were explosions. Maigret sat up in bed, opened his eyes, and found the room bathed in sunlight, with, just in front of him, framed in the open window, the belfry of the little church.
    The explosions were coming from the port. It was the engines of the boats being started up, and coughing. All the fishermen were leaving at the same time. One of the motors kept on stopping after several efforts, and a silence followed, then again the coughing sound, so that one wanted to go and help to get it going properly once and for all.
    He felt like getting dressed and going out of doors, then looked at the time by his watch, which he had put on the bedside table, and found it was only half-past four in the morning. The smell was still more pronounced than on the day before, probably because of the damp of the dawn. There was no sound in the house, no sound in the square, where the foliage of the eucalyptus trees was motionless in the rising sun. Only the motors, in the harbor, an occasional voice, then even the thrumming of the motors died away in the distance, and, for a very long time, was no more than a vibration in the air.
    When he opened his eyes once more, another smell reminded him of all the mornings since his early childhood, the smell of fresh coffee, and from most parts of the house came the buzz of activity, footsteps could be heard on the square, brooms frisking against the stones in the roadway.
    He was at once aware that there was something of vital importance that he had to remember, but could bring back to mind no distinct memory. His mouth was lined with fur, because of the anisette. He felt for a bell button in the hope of having some coffee sent up. There was none. Then he put on his trousers, his shirt, his slippers, ran a comb through his hair and opened his door. A strong smell of scent and soap was issuing from Ginette’s room, where she must have been busy at her toilet.
    Wasn’t it about her that he had made, or thought he had made, a discovery? He went down and, in the main room, found the chairs in pyramids on the tables. The doors were open and the chairs on the terrace were similarly stacked up. There was nobody about.
    He went into the kitchen, which seemed dark to him, had to accustom his eyes to the half-light.
    â€œGood morning, chief inspector. Did you sleep well?”
    It was Jojo, with her black dress, which was too short and literally clung to her body. She hadn’t yet