The Two-Penny Bar Read Online Free PDF Page B

ironic, for as he lolled in the back of the boat with the sun glinting off his bald pate, he looked supremely content.
    â€˜Is it true you’re a policeman?’
    â€˜Who told you that?’
    â€˜I can’t remember. I heard someone mention it. Hey, it’s just a job like any other.’
    James tightened the sail, which had caught a breath of wind. It was six o’clock. The Morsang clock was striking, and was answered by the one at Seine-Port. The bank was obstructed by reeds, which were teeming with insects. The sun was
beginning to turn red.
    â€˜What do you …’
    James’s question was cut short by a sharp crack. Maigret leapt to his feet, almost overturning the boat.
    â€˜Look out!’ his companion shouted. He threw his weight over to the other side, then grabbed an oar and started rowing. His brow was furrowed, his eyes wide with anxiety.
    â€˜It’s not the hunting season yet.’
    â€˜It came from behind the bar!’ said Maigret.
    As they drew closer they could hear the tinkle of the mechanical piano and an anguished voice shouting:
    â€˜Turn the music off! Turn the music off!’
    There were people running. A couple was still dancing, even after the piano was switched off. The old grandmother was coming out of the house, carrying a bucket in her hand. She stood stock-still, trying to work out what was going on.
    Because of the reeds it was difficult to land. In his haste, Maigret stepped into the water up to his knee. James came after him with his supple stride, mumbling to himself inaudibly.
    They only had to follow the group of people heading behind the lean-to that served as the dance hall. Round the back of the shed they found a man staring wide-eyed at the crowd, stammering over and over:
    â€˜It wasn’t me! …’
    It was Basso. He seemed unaware that he was holding a small, pearl-handled revolver in his hand.
    â€˜Where’s my wife? …’ he asked the people around him, as if he didn’t recognize them.
    Some people went to look for her. Someone said:
    â€˜She stayed at home to prepare dinner …’
    Maigret had to push his way to the front before he sawa figure lying in the long grass, dressed in a grey suit and a straw hat.
    Far from being tragic, the scene had an air of absurdity, with everyone standing around not knowing what to do. They stood there looking in bewildered fashion at Basso, who seemed just as bewildered as they.
    To cap it all, one of the members of the group, who was a doctor, was standing right next to the body but hadn’t made a move. He was looking at the others, as if waiting for instructions.
    There was, however, a small moment of tragedy after all. The body suddenly twitched. The legs seemed to be trying to bend. The shoulders twisted back. A part of Monsieur Feinstein’s face came into view. Then, as if in one last effort, he
stiffened, then slowly became immobile.
    The man had just died.
    â€˜Check his heart,’ Maigret told the doctor curtly.
    The inspector, who was not unfamiliar with such events, caught every detail of the scene. He saw everything at once, with an almost unreal clarity.
    Someone had fallen to the ground at the back of the crowd, wailing piteously. It was Madame Feinstein, who had been the last to arrive because she had been the last to stop dancing. Some people were bending over her. The landlord of the bar was
approaching with the suspicious expression of a distrustful peasant.
    Monsieur Basso was breathing quickly, pumping air into his lungs. He suddenly noticed the revolver in his clenched fist. He appeared stupefied. He looked at eachof the persons around him in turn, as if wondering to whom he
should give the gun. He repeated:
    â€˜It wasn’t me …’
    He was still looking round for his wife, despite what he had been told.
    â€˜Dead,’ said the doctor as he stood up.
    â€˜A bullet?’
    â€˜Here …’
    And he pointed to the