The Hanged Man of Saint-Pholien by Georges Simenon

to the
     paper with his enormous index finger, Maigret was peacefully writing, pausing from
     time to time to tamp down the hot ashes in his pipe.
    He was ensconced
     in his room in the Hôtel du Chemin de Fer and according to the illuminated station
     clock, which he could see from his window, it was two in the morning.
Dear old Lucas,
    As one never knows what may
     happen, I’m sending you the following information so that, if necessary,
     you will be able to carry on the inquiry I have begun.
    1. Last week, in Brussels, a
     shabbily dressed man who looks like a tramp wraps up thirty thousand-franc notes
     and sends the package to his own address, Rue de la Roquette, in Paris. The
     evidence will show that he often sent himself similar sums but that
he did
     not make any use of the money himself.
The proof is that charred
     remains of large amounts of banknotes burned on purpose have been found in his
     room.
    He goes by the name of Louis
     Jeunet and is more or less regularly employed by a workshop on his street.
    He is married (contact Mme
     Jeunet, herbalist, Rue Picpus) and has a child. After some acute episodes of
     alcoholism, however, he leaves his wife and child under mysterious and troubling
     circumstances.
    In Brussels, after posting the
     money, he buys a suitcase in which to transport some things he’s been
     keeping in a hotel room. While he is on his way to Bremen, I replace his
     suitcase with another.
    Then Jeunet,
who does not
     appear to have been contemplating suicide and who has already bought
     something for his supper
, kills himself upon realizing that the
     contents of his suitcase have been stolen.
    The stolen property is an old
     suit that does not belong
to him and
     which, years earlier, had been torn as if in a struggle and drenched with blood.
     This suit
was made in Liège.
    In Bremen, a man comes to view
     the corpse: Joseph Van Damme, an import-export commission agent,
born in
     Liège.
    In Paris, I learn that Louis
     Jeunet is in reality Jean Lecocq d’Arneville,
born in Liège
,
     where he studied to graduate level. He disappeared from Liège about ten years
     ago and no one there has had any news of him, but he has no black marks against
     his name.
    2. In Rheims, before he leaves
     for Brussels, Jean Lecocq d’Arneville is observed one night entering the
     home of Maurice Belloir, deputy director of a local bank and
born in
     Liège
, who denies this allegation.
    But the thirty thousand francs sent from Brussels were supplied by this same
     Belloir.
    At Belloir’s house I
     encounter: Van Damme, who has flown in from Bremen; Jef Lombard, a photoengraver
in Liège
; and Gaston Janin, who was also born
in that
     city.
    As I am travelling back to Paris
     with Van Damme, he tries to push me into the Marne.
    And I find him again
in
     Liège
, in the home of Jef Lombard, who was an active painter around ten
     years ago and has covered the walls of his home with works from that period
     depicting hanged men.
    When I consult the local
     newspaper archives, I find that all the papers of 15 February in the year of the
     hanged men have been stolen by Van Damme.
    That evening, an unsigned letter
     promises to tell me everything and gives me an appointment in a local café.
     There I find not one man, but three: Belloir (in from Rheims), Van Damme and Jef
     Lombard.
    They are
     not pleased to see me. I have the feeling that it’s one of these men who
     has decided to talk; the others seem to be there simply to prevent this.
    Lombard cracks under the strain
     and leaves abruptly. I stay with the other two men. Shortly past midnight, I
     take leave of them outside, in the fog, and a few moments later a shot is fired
     at me.
    I conclude both that one of the
     three tried to talk to me and that one of the same three tried to eliminate
     me.
    And clearly, given that this
     last action amounts to a confession,
the person in question has no recourse
     but to try