Liberty Bar Read Online Free PDF Page A

tables.
    At the back, a glass door with a net
     curtain. Through the curtain the shape of heads moving. But no one got up to greet the
     customer. Just a woman’s voice, shouting:
    ‘What are you waiting for?’
    Maigret went in. There was another step to
     go down, and the window, which was flush with the courtyard, looked like a vent. In the
     half-light Maigret could make out three people sitting round a table.
    The woman who had cried out didn’t
     stop eating but looked at him as he himself had the habit of looking at people: calmly,
     picking up every detail.
    With her elbows on the table, she finally
     gave a sigh and indicated a footstool with her chin.
    ‘You took your time!’
    Next to her sat a man whom Maigret could
     only see from the back. He was dressed in a very clean sailor’s uniform. His fair
     hair was close cropped on his neck. He was wearing cuffs.
    ‘Carry on
     eating,’ the woman said to him. ‘It’s nothing …’
    Finally, at the other end of the table, a
     third person, a young woman with a lustreless complexion who stared suspiciously at
     Maigret with her big eyes.
    She was wearing a dressing gown. The whole
     of her left breast was on display, but no one paid it any attention.
    ‘Take a seat. Do you mind if we
     finish eating?’
    How old was she – forty-five, fifty, maybe
     older? It was hard to tell. She was fat, smiling, sure of herself. You could tell that
     nothing fazed her, that she had seen it all, heard it all, experienced it all.
    One look was enough to tell her what
     Maigret was here for. She hadn’t even stood up. She was cutting thick slices off a
     leg of mutton, which caught Maigret’s attention for a moment, for he had rarely
     seen one as succulent.
    ‘So are you from Nice or Antibes? I
     haven’t seen you round here before.’
    ‘Police Judiciaire, Paris
     …’
    ‘Ah!’
    That ‘ah’ showed that she
     understood the difference, recognized her visitor’s rank.
    ‘So it’s true, then?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘That William was some sort of
     important person …’
    Now Maigret could see the sailor in
     profile. He was no ordinary sailor. His uniform was cut from very fine cloth. He was
     wearing gold braid, a yacht club badge on his cap.
He seemed put out.
     He ate without lifting his eyes from his plate.
    ‘Who is this?’
    ‘We call him Yan … I
     don’t know his real name … He’s a steward on board the
Ardena
, a Swedish yacht that winters in Cannes every year … Yan is the
     butler, aren’t you, Yan? … This gentleman is from the police … I told
     you about William …’
    Yan nodded his head but showed little sign
     of having understood.
    ‘He says yes, but he doesn’t
     really know what I’m talking about!’ the woman said, paying no attention to
     the sailor. ‘He’s never got the hang of French … But he’s a good
     guy … He has a wife and kids back home … Show them your photo, Yan …
     Yes, photo!’
    And the man took a photo out of his jacket
     pocket. It showed a young woman sitting in front of a door with two babies in the grass
     in front of her.
    ‘Twins!’ the woman explained.
     ‘Yan comes here to eat now and again, because it feels like family here. He
     brought the mutton and the peaches …’
    Maigret looked at the girl, who was still
     making no effort to cover her breast.
    ‘And she is …?’
    ‘This is Sylvie, William’s
     goddaughter …’
    ‘Goddaughter?’
    ‘Oh, not in the church sense! …
     He wasn’t there when she was christened … Were you christened,
     Sylvie?’
    ‘Of course!’
    She continued to look at
     Maigret with suspicion while nibbling away at her food without relish.
    ‘William was fond of her … She
     told him all her troubles … He consoled her …’
    Maigret was sitting on a stool, his elbows
     on his knees, his chin in his hands. The fat woman was preparing a salad seasoned with
     garlic that looked like a work of art.
    ‘Have you eaten?’
    He lied.
    ‘Yes … I