Maigret Read Online Free PDF Page A

glass of
     champagne.
    ‘Still.’
    They sat facing each other, grave and
     slightly sullen like two soothsayers. At a neighbouring table, some woman who
     didn’t know better was aiming cotton-wool balls at their noses.
    ‘You were quick to get the place
     re-opened!’ commented Maigret between two puffs of smoke.
    ‘I’m still pretty well
     connected with the “boys”.’
    ‘Are you aware that there’s
     a kid who’s stupidly compromised in this business?’
    ‘I read something along those
     lines in the papers. Ayoung cop who was hiding in the toilet and
     who panicked and killed Pepito.’
    The jazz band struck up again. An
     Englishman, all the more priggish for being drunk, brushed past Maigret
     murmuring:
    ‘Excuse me.’
    ‘Go ahead.’
    And Fernande, at the bar, was watching
     him with a worried look. Maigret smiled at her.
    ‘Young police officers are
     hot-headed,’ sighed Cageot.
    ‘That’s what I said to my
     nephew.’
    ‘Is your nephew interested in
     these matters?’
    ‘He was the kid hiding in the
     toilet.’
    Cageot could not turn pale, because his
     face was always ashen. But he took a hasty sip of mineral water, then wiped his
     mouth.
    ‘That’s too bad, isn’t
     it?’
    ‘That’s exactly what I said
     to him.’
    Fernande jerked her chin at the clock,
     which showed 1.30. Maigret signalled that he was coming.
    ‘To your health,’ said
     Cageot.
    ‘To yours.’
    ‘Is it pleasant, where
     you’re living? I’ve heard you’ve moved out to the
     country.’
    ‘It is pleasant, yes.’
    ‘Winter in Paris is
     unhealthy.’
    ‘I thought the same thing when I
     heard about Pepito’s death.’
    ‘Be my guest, please,’
     protested Cageot as Maigret opened his wallet.
    Maigret still put fifty
     francs down on the table and stood up, saying:
    ‘So long!’
    He just walked past the bar and
     whispered to Fernande:
    ‘Come on.’
    ‘Have you paid?’
    In the street, she wasn’t sure
     whether to take his arm. He still had his hands in his pockets and walked with big,
     slow strides.
    ‘D’you know Cageot?’
     she asked shyly at length, slipping into informality
    ‘He’s from my part of the
     world.’
    ‘You know, you should be careful.
     He’s a bit of a dodgy character. I’m telling you this because you seem
     like a good man.’
    ‘Have you slept with
     him?’
    Then Fernande, who had to take two steps
     to Maigret’s every stride, replied simply:
    ‘He doesn’t sleep with
     anyone!’
    In Meung, Madame Maigret was fast
     asleep in the house that smelled of wood smoke and goat’s milk. In his hotel
     room in Rue des Dames, Philippe had finally fallen asleep too, his glasses on the
     bedside table.

3.
    Maigret perched on the edge of the bed
     while Fernande, her legs crossed, gave a contented sigh as she slipped off her
     shoes. With the same lack of inhibition she hitched up her green silk dress to undo
     her garters.
    ‘Aren’t you getting
     undressed?’
    Maigret shook his head, but she
     didn’t notice as she was pulling her dress over her head.
    Fernande had a small apartment in Rue
     Blanche. The red-carpeted staircase smelled of wax floor polish. There were empty
     milk bottles standing outside every door on the way up. Once inside the apartment,
     they had crossed a living room cluttered with knick-knacks and Maigret had a glimpse
     of a spotless kitchen where all the items were arranged with meticulous care.
    ‘What are you thinking
     about?’ asked Fernande as she peeled off her stockings to reveal her long,
     white legs and then examined her toes with interest.
    ‘Nothing. May I smoke?’
    ‘There are cigarettes on the
     table.’
    Maigret paced up and down, his pipe
     between his teeth, and stopped in front of an enlarged portrait of a woman in her
     fifties, then in front of a copper pot in which a plant stood. The floor was waxed
     and near the door were two pieces of felt shaped like shoe soles,which Fernande must have used to walk