The Yellow Dog by Georges Simenon

the fruitseller at the corner had his door open and was standing there, afraid to come out. That’s all I know.’
    â€˜You didn’t see the person who fired?’
    â€˜I didn’t see anything. It doesn’t happen the way people think … There’s a moment when you’re falling down … and then, when my hand felt the blood …’
    â€˜You don’t have any enemies you can think of?’
    â€˜No. I’ve only been here two years … I come from inland … and in that time I’ve never spotted any smugglers.’
    â€˜Do you always go home by that route?’
    â€˜No. That’s the longest way … But I had no matches, and so I went over to the booth to light my cigarette. Then, instead of cutting through town, I just went along the waterfront.’
    â€˜It’s shorter through town?’
    â€˜A little.’
    â€˜So that someone who saw you leave the café and head along the quay would have had time to get in position for an ambush?’
    â€˜Oh, yes. But why? I never carry money on me … And anyhow, they didn’t try to rob me.’
    â€˜You’re quite sure, inspector, that you never lost sight of your drifter the whole evening?’ There was an edge to the mayor’s voice.
    Leroy came in, holding out a piece of paper.
    â€˜A telegram. The post office has just phoned it to the hotel. It’s from Paris.’
    And Maigret read:
Sûreté Générale to Detective Chief Inspector Maigret, Concarneau.
Jean Goyard, alias Servières, per your description, arrested Monday night at eight, Hotel Bellevue, Rue Lepic, Paris, while moving into room 15. Admits arriving from
Brest by six o’clock train. Protests innocence and demands presence of counsel at further interrogation. Await instructions.

8. Plus One
    â€˜You’ll agree perhaps, chief inspector, that it’s time we had a serious talk …’
    The mayor had said this in a tone of icy formality, and Leroy did not know Maigret well enough yet to judge his reaction from the way he blew out his pipe smoke. A slender grey stream emerged slowly from the inspector’s half-open lips, and he
blinked two or three times. Then he drew his notebook from his pocket and looked around at the pharmacist, the doctor, the bystanders.
    â€˜At your service,
Monsieur le Maire
 … Here is—’
    â€˜If you’d like to have a cup of tea at my house,’ the mayor interrupted hastily, ‘I have my car at the door. I’ll wait till you’ve given the necessary orders.’
    â€˜What orders?’
    â€˜But … the murderer, the drifter … that girl …?’
    â€˜Oh, yes! Well, if the police have nothing better to do, they can keep an eye on the railway stations round here.’ He wore his most ingenuous expression. ‘Leroy, wire Paris to send Goyard here. Then go to bed.’
    He got in the mayor’s car, which was driven by a chauffeur in black livery. As they neared White Sands, they caught sight of the mayor’s house. It was built directly on the cliff, which made it look somewhat like a feudal chateau.
Lights shone from several windows.
    The two men had barely exchanged two sentences in
the course of the drive. ‘Allow me to show you a few points of interest,’ the mayor had tried.
    At the villa, he handed his fur coat to a butler. ‘Madame has gone to bed?’
    â€˜No, sir. She is waiting for you in the library.’
    They found her there. She was about forty years old and looked young next to her husband, who was sixty-five. She nodded to the inspector.
    â€˜Well?’
    Very much the man of the world, the mayor kissed her hand, which he kept in his as he said, ‘Don’t worry. A customs guard was slightly wounded … And I hope that after the conversation we’re about to have, Chief Inspector
Maigret and