Maigret's Dead Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

not unfortunately able to determine.’
    â€˜Was it done before death?’
    â€˜After … A few minutes
after.’
    â€˜Are you sure it was only minutes
after?’
    â€˜Less than half an hour, I’d swear to
it. But now, Maigret, there is another detail which I will probably not include in my report
because I am not sure of my ground and have no wish to be challenged by lawyers when this
business comes to court. I spent some time examining the wound, as you saw. Now, I’ve
examined several hundred knife wounds in my time. I’d swear this one was not delivered
unexpectedly.
    â€˜Imagine that there are two men standing,
arguing about something. They are facing each other, and one of them stabs the other man. It
would be impossible for him to make a wound like the one I’ve just examined. The blow was
not to the victim’s back, either.
    â€˜But suppose that a man is seated, or even
standing, but with his mind fully occupied with something else. Someone could creep up quietly
on him from behind, put one arm around him and with the other strike hard with the knife,
choosing his spot exactly.
    â€˜Or to be even more specific, it’s as
if the victim had been tied up or held down so that he could not move, asif
someone had then, literally, “carved” him … Are you with me?’
    â€˜I’m with you.’
    But Maigret knew very well that Nine’s
husband had not been taken by surprise, for he had been eluding his murderers for twenty-four
hours.
    What for the doctor was a problem of a more or
less theoretical nature was in Maigret’s eyes a matter of much more immediate human
import.
    It so happened that he had heard the man’s
voice. He had almost seen him. He had certainly followed him step by step, bar by bar, on his
mad progress through certain parts of Paris, always the same ones, in the area between
Châtelet and Bastille.
    The two men were now walking along the bank of
the river, Maigret smoking his pipe and Dr Paul cigarette after cigarette – he smoked
constantly while performing autopsies and would tell anyone who asked that tobacco is the best
antiseptic. Dawn was just appearing in the sky. Strings of barges were beginning to pass down
the Seine. Down-and-outs were seen, numbed by the night cold, climbing stiff-limbed up the steps
from the embankment, where they had slept under a bridge.
    â€˜The man was killed shortly after his last
meal, maybe immediately.’
    â€˜Do you know what he ate?’
    â€˜Pea soup, Provençal creamed salt
cod-and-potato pie and an apple. He had drunk white wine. I also found traces of spirits in his
stomach.’
    Oddly enough, they were now passing in front of
theCaves du Beaujolais. The landlord had only just taken the wooden
shutters inside. They could see the dark interior and caught the smell of stale wine.
    â€˜Are you going home now?’ asked the
doctor, who was about to hail a taxi.
    â€˜I’m going up to Criminal
Records.’
    The tall building on Quai des Orfèvres was
almost empty. Teams of sweepers were at work in the corridors and on staircases, where the
winter dampness still lingered.
    In his office, Maigret found Lucas, who had just
fallen asleep in his armchair.
    â€˜Any developments?’
    â€˜The papers have got the photo. Only a few
will publish it in the morning edition because they didn’t receive it early
enough.’
    â€˜Anything on the car?’
    â€˜I’m looking into my third yellow
Citroën, but none fit the bill.’
    â€˜Have you phoned Janvier?’
    â€˜He’ll be here at eight to take over
from me.’
    â€˜If anyone asks for me, I’ll be
upstairs … Tell the switchboard that all calls are to be put through directly to me
…’
    He did not feel sleepy but did feel sluggish, and
his movements were slower than usual. He climbed a narrow staircase which was out of bounds to
the public. It led him to the