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Authors: Georges Simenon

Maigret's Holiday (19 page)

BOOK: Maigret's Holiday
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It had become a refrain. He thanked people
all day long. He thanked the couple again and went next door, a lovely house several
storeys high with a huge, light-filled stairwell and big polished oak doors.

On the first floor, the copper plate on the
left-hand door read:

OLGA

Haute couture – Fancy goods
−
Lingerie

Before going inside, he automatically
emptied his pipe by banging it against his heel. A dishevelled little woman rushed up to
him.

‘Can I help you, monsieur?'

‘I'd like to speak to Madame
Olga.'

‘Who sent you?'

‘No one sent me.'

‘I'll go and see if Mademoiselle
is there.'

She did not have to go
far, only through a curtain, from behind which came an exchange of whispers. Then a
tall, slim woman came into the pearl-grey waiting room where Maigret stood
expectantly.

‘Monsieur!'

‘Maigret … It doesn't
matter … Mademoiselle Olga?'

‘Yes.'

She had a confident step, and her face had
sharp, strong features. She was extremely well dressed, in a light suit that made her
look like a businesswoman.

‘If you would like to come this way
into my office …'

It was tiny, and smelled of oregano and
Virginia tobacco. She held out a cigarette case and he almost took one without
realizing.

‘One of your customers is Doctor
Bellamy's wife, I believe?'

‘That is correct. Odette is not just a
customer any more, she's a friend.'

‘I know.'

‘Oh!'

‘She comes to see you often, two or
three times a week, on average?'

‘Possibly. But may I ask
…?'

‘I'm the one who is asking the
questions, if you don't mind. Did Doctor Bellamy telephone you this morning by any
chance?'

‘No. Why?'

‘Nor yesterday?'

‘Nor yesterday.'

‘And he didn't come and see
you?'

‘He never sets foot
here.'

‘And you didn't spot him in the
street? Forgive me for pressing the matter. It is of the utmost importance.'

‘No … I don't see
…'

‘Do you live in this
apartment?'

‘Not strictly speaking … I have
two connecting apartments … This one comprises only the fitting rooms and the
workshop … The smaller one, which looks out over the back of the building, is
where I live …'

‘Is there an entrance that isn't
on Le Remblai?'

‘Like the neighbouring houses, this
one has two entrances, one on Le Remblai and the other in Rue du Minage.'

‘Listen, Mademoiselle Olga
…'

‘It seems to me that I've done
nothing but listen and answer you for a good while.'

She did not lose her cool, but smoked her
cigarette and looked him directly in the eyes.

‘I've been searching for you
since yesterday afternoon.'

She smiled.

‘You see, it's not difficult to
find me.'

‘I need you to answer me truthfully.
Make sure no one can hear us.'

He was so insistent that she did as he
asked, raised a curtain and went and gave orders to ensure that her staff were out of
earshot.

‘Your friend Odette did not come here
just to see her dressmaker.'

‘Do you think?'

Her lip had begun to tremble slightly.

‘Time is short. I
assure you this is not the moment to try and be clever. Presumably you know who I
am?'

‘No, but I imagine you're a
member of the police force.'

‘Detective Chief Inspector Maigret
…'

‘Pleased to meet you.'

‘I am here on holiday. I am not in
charge of any investigation. Two tragedies at least have occurred within a few days
without my being able to avert them. If everyone had been truthful with me, I could have
prevented the second.'

‘I don't see what
…'

‘Yes you do.'

Blood rushed to the young woman's
cheeks.

‘I wasn't certain I'd find
you alive this morning. The Duffieux girl, who knew less than you, was killed the other
night.'

‘Do you think there's a
connection?'

She was beginning to yield. The hardest part
of the job was done. She had barely realized what was happening to her, and now there
was no going back.

‘Did Émile come in via Rue du
Minage?'

One last time she opened her mouth to lie or
to protest, but there was such determination in the big masculine head coming close to
her that she stammered:

‘Yes …'

‘And I suppose that your friend Odette
didn't linger in the fitting rooms but went straight to your apartment?'

‘How can you know that?'

‘Where is she right now?'

‘You should know that too.'

‘Answer me.'

‘But … I
presume she's in Paris …'

Without thinking, Maigret took his pipe out
of his pocket and dipped the bowl in his tobacco pouch.

‘No,' he said harshly.

‘So he didn't leave
either?'

‘He is no longer in Les Sables
d'Olonne.'

‘And are you certain that Odette still
is? Have you seen her?'

‘I haven't seen her with my own
eyes, but Doctor Bourgeois, who is treating her, saw her three days ago.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘That doesn't matter.'

‘What about her husband?'

‘Exactly!'

‘Do you mean he knows?'

‘It is more than likely.'

‘But then … but
…'

She drew herself up, panic-stricken, and
began to pace up and down the little office.

‘You have no idea what that means
…'

‘Oh yes I do.'

‘He's capable of anything
… You don't know him as well as I do … You don't know his way of
loving her … You've seen him … He seems like a cold man … That
doesn't stop him throwing himself at Odette's feet sometimes and sobbing
like a child … If such a thing were possible, he would have locked her away so
that no man could lay eyes on her …'

‘I know.'

‘Odette has always been fond of him,
and grateful to
him … But she wasn't happy … A
number of times she thought of leaving, and she only stayed for fear of driving him to
despair …'

‘But she did decide to in the
end,' muttered Maigret.

‘Because she fell in love … A
man cannot understand these things … You probably never met Émile … If
you'd seen him … If you'd seen his eyes, the way his hands shook
… If you'd felt the passion that …'

She stopped, embarrassed.

‘Forgive me,' she said calmly.
‘That is not what you wanted to know.'

‘On the contrary.'

‘Well, they were in love, and
that's it.'

‘That's it, as you say! And
Odette asked you to help her meet her young lover.'

‘I wouldn't have done it for
anyone else.'

‘I have no difficulty believing
you.'

‘I took a huge risk.'

‘You did.'

‘If there had been a scandal
…'

‘And there will be.'

‘So what do you want of me? Why are
you trying to alarm me?'

‘I am more alarmed than you are. I am
trying to piece together the whole story precisely to avert a further
tragedy.'

‘Are you certain that Odette
hasn't left?'

‘Yes.'

‘I can't believe he left without
her.'

‘Nor can I.'

She stared at him.

‘So what does that mean?'

‘He hasn't been seen in Les
Sables d'Olonne since the evening set for their elopement. He wasn't seen at
the station either. Tell me where they had arranged to meet.'

‘In the little street behind the
doctor's house.'

‘At what time?'

‘Around nine thirty.'

‘That's the time that Bellamy is
usually in the library, close to his wife's bedroom.'

‘That evening there was a dinner at
the prefecture and he had promised to attend.'

‘Are you certain that Odette
hasn't telephoned you or given any sign of life since?'

‘I swear it, inspector. You will agree
that I've been honest with you …'

‘Do you know where your friend and
Émile first met?'

Again she looked flustered.

‘I wonder whether I should tell you.
You won't understand. It's so childish!'

‘I was a child once too.'

‘And did you ever spend weeks watching
out for a woman and following her in the street? … That's what he did
… When she left her house to come and see me … It was last autumn …
She had to have her entire winter wardrobe made … She came more often … She
chose the time when her husband was seeing patients to feel free, even though at that
point she wasn't doing anything wrong … Émile followed her … You
see how easy it is …'

‘I suppose he started by writing to
her?'

‘Yes. She
didn't reply for over two months. When she did, it was to tell him to leave her
alone.'

‘I have experienced that.'

‘It sounds ridiculous, when it happens
to other people.'

But it hadn't seemed ridiculous to
her. On the contrary, she seemed to have been passionately involved in her
friend's affair.

‘It was after that letter that he had
the audacity, one morning, to come up here … “I absolutely have to speak
with you,” he said.

‘Odette didn't know what to do
… I couldn't leave them in the fitting room … I pushed them into my
office …

‘After that, they carried on writing
to each other …'

‘You acted as go-between, I
presume?'

‘Yes. Then …'

‘I understand.'

‘It was very sincere, I promise
you.'

‘Of course!'

‘The proof is that Odette had no
qualms in giving up everything. In Paris, she would have had to work, for he had only
found a modest position. When I asked her whether she'd be taking her dresses and
jewellery, she replied, “No, nothing, I want to start my life all over
again.”'

‘What about Bellamy?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Did he not suspect anything? Did you
ever see him hanging around your place? One important question: did your friend keep her
lover's letters?'

‘I'm sure she did.'

She realized what he
meant.

‘Another thing: are you absolutely
certain that no one, other than yourself, knows?'

He understood from her discomfort, that
something wasn't right.

‘I wonder how it didn't occur to
me yesterday,' she said almost to herself, pensive. ‘In the early spring,
Émile was in bed for a week with tonsillitis. The letters continued arriving in my
letterbox. I should add that, as a precaution, he never sent them by post. Once I opened
the door early in the morning and saw a girl running away …'

‘Lucile?'

‘His sister, yes.'

‘Do you think he told her he was
leaving?'

‘It's possible. I don't
know. I don't know any more. It all seemed so straightforward, so easy, so
innocent …'

‘You see, mademoiselle, there is a man
who, for the past few days, has been following the same trail as me, with the advantage
that he knows a lot more than I do. But this morning, I ended up here …'

‘How?'

‘By going from door to door. Because I
took Odette and Émile as my starting point. Because they had to meet somewhere. And
I didn't think, as any woman in my place would have done, of the dressmaker. Who
paid Madame Bellamy's bills?'

‘Her husband sent me a cheque at the
end of the year.'

‘Does he know that you were childhood
friends?'

‘I'm sure he does, for Odette
and I were constantly together when he fell in love with her.'

‘Did she love
him?'

‘I think so.'

‘It was a lukewarm love, wasn't
it, in which the big house, the jewellery, the dresses and the car played a large
part?'

‘It's likely. Odette was always
afraid of ending up like her mother. What am I to do now? What are you going to
do?'

The telephone rang.

‘May I?'

As soon as she picked up the receiver, she
turned pale, and gestured to Maigret.

‘Yes, doctor … Hello, doctor, I
can't hear you very well … This is Olga, yes … Pardon? … Could
you repeat the name? … Maigret? …'

She shot Maigret a questioning look and he
nodded his head vehemently.

‘You want to know if he has been to
see me?'

Maigret pointed to the room, and she
wasn't sure she understood. She replied on the off chance:

‘He is here at the moment … No
… Not long ago … Hold on, I think he wants to talk to you.'

Maigret snatched the receiver.

‘Hello! … Is that you,
doctor?'

Silence on the other end of the line.

‘I was just about to phone you to
request an interview … Don't forget that you told me that you would remain
at my disposal … Hello …'

‘I'm here, yes.'

‘Are you at home at the
moment?'

‘Yes.'

‘With your permission, I'll be
there in a few minutes … The time it takes to walk half the length of Le Remblai
… Hello! …'

Silence again.

‘Can you hear me, doctor?'

‘Yes.'

‘I am speaking to you as a fellow
human being. Hello! … I'm pleading with you, I beg you, I command you not to
do anything before I get there … Hello! …'

BOOK: Maigret's Holiday
4.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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