The Misty Harbour Read Online Free PDF

the inspector assumed he was the mayor, whom he had seen
     only briefly the night before.
    A somewhat beefy
     fellow between forty-five and fifty, quite tall, with a rosy complexion. He was
     wearing a grey hunting coat and aviator gaiters. Maigret went over to him.
    ‘Monsieur Grandmaison? I am
     Detective Chief Inspector Maigret of the Police Judiciaire.’
    ‘Pleased to meet you,’ came
     the casual reply.
    The mayor looked at the Buvette de la
     Marine, then Maigret, then the tavern again as if to say, ‘Strange company for
     an important official to keep!’
    And he kept walking towards the lock on
     his way to the cottage.
    ‘Joris is dead, I hear?’
    ‘It’s true,’ replied
     Maigret, who did not much like the man’s attitude.
    An attitude that could hardly have been
     more traditional: that of the big fish in a small pond, someone who thinks himself
     the centre of the world, dresses like a country gentleman and pays a token tribute
     to democracy by shaking hands half-heartedly with his fellow citizens, saluting them
     with mumbled greetings and the occasional inquiry after their children’s
     health.
    ‘And you’ve caught the
     murderer? Since it was you who brought Joris here and who – excuse
     me …’
    He went over to speak to the water
     bailiff, who apparently attended him when he went duck hunting.
    ‘The left-hand reeds of the blind
     need straightening. And one of the decoys is useless, it looked half dead this
     morning.’
    ‘I’ll see to it,
     sir.’
    The mayor rejoined Maigret, pausing en
     route to shake the harbourmaster’s hand with a murmured greeting.
    ‘How are
     you?’
    ‘Fine, sir.’
    ‘Where were we, inspector? Ah!
     What’s all this I hear about a patched-up fractured skull, insanity and so
     on?’
    ‘Were you a particular friend of
     Captain Joris?’
    ‘He was in my employ for
     twenty-eight years, a fine man, assiduous in his duties.’
    ‘Honest?’
    ‘Almost all my employees
     are.’
    ‘What was his salary?’
    ‘That would depend, because of the
     war, which disrupted things everywhere. Enough for him to buy his little house, in
     any case. And I wager he had at least twenty thousand francs in the bank.’
    ‘No more?’
    ‘Oh, perhaps five thousand francs
     or so more, at most.’
    The upstream lock-gate was opening to
     let the steamer into the canal; another ship, coming down from Caen, would take its
     place and head out to sea.
    The day was beautifully calm. Everyone
     was watching Maigret and the mayor. Up on their ship, the English sailors glanced
     nonchalantly at the crowd while going about their duties.
    ‘What is your opinion of Julie
     Legrand?’
    The mayor hesitated for a moment before
     grumbling, ‘A silly creature who had her head turned because Joris treated her
     far too nicely. She thinks she’s … How shall I … Anyway,
     she fancies herself better than she is.’
    ‘And her brother?’
    ‘Never laid eyes on him. I’m
     told he’s a scoundrel.’
    They had left the
     lock behind and were approaching Joris’ front gate, where a few kids were
     still playing and hoping to see some interesting developments.
    ‘What did the captain die
     of?’
    ‘Strychnine!’
    Maigret was wearing his most pigheaded
     expression. He walked slowly, hands in his pockets, pipe clenched in his teeth. And
     this pipe seemed to match his big face, for it held a quarter-packet’s worth
     of shag tobacco.
    The white cat, stretched full-length in
     the sunshine atop the garden wall, leaped down in a flash as the two men
     arrived.
    ‘You’re not going in?’
     asked the mayor in surprise when Maigret stopped short at the cottage gate.
    ‘Just a moment. In your opinion,
     was Julie the captain’s mistress?’
    ‘How would I know that!’
     exclaimed Monsieur Grandmaison impatiently.
    ‘Did you often visit the captain
     here?’
    ‘Never! Joris was one of my
     employees. So you see …’ And he smiled in what he imagined to be a