Maigret and the Spinster by Georges Simenon

know every word I say will be used against me. It’s all too easy. Well, then, here goes. My aunt suffered from pains in the legs, and, every evening at about that time, she had hot air massage, which apparently relieved the pain. My sister used an electric dryer, like those one sees at the hairdresser’s. They make quite a lot of noise…All I had to do was let myself in with my key and go and hide under Cécile’s bed. Are you satisfied? And now, if you don’t mind, I’m hungry and my wife is expecting me home. You’ve scared her enough already, going to see her like that. If I’m not back soon, she’ll think…So, unless you intend to arrest me here and now, I’ll thank you to let me go. As for her money, which is ours by right, we’ll see whether…”
    He turned his head away, but not soon enough to prevent Maigret from seeing the tears of rage that were running down his cheeks.
    “You are at liberty to go,” said the Chief Superintendent.
    “Is that so?” exclaimed the young man, with heavy irony. “So I’m not to be arrested just yet? You are too kind. How can I ever thank you…”
    Gérard was not sure that he had caught the words aright, but as he made for the door he thought he heard Maigret say:
    “Silly ass!”
    Was Nouchi still hoping to succeed in seducing the Chief Superintendent? She was doing her best, at any rate, with a curious blend of cunning and artlessness. She even, as she sat down opposite him, went so far as to hitch her skirt well up above her bony knees.
    “Where were you?” he asked, as grumpily as he knew how.
    “In the street.”
    “What were you doing there?”
    “Talking to a friend…”
    “Are you sure this was on the night of the murder?”
    “It’s in my diary…Every night, I record the events of the day in my diary.”
    Maigret reflected that he himself no doubt also featured in this crazy girl’s diary. Nouchi was one of those girls who fall in love with every man they see, the policeman on the beat, the neighbor whom they encounter every day at the same hour, the film star whom they have never met in the flesh, the notorious murderer, of whom they have only read. For the time being, Maigret was the star!
    “I can’t tell you the name of my friend, because he’s a married man…”
    Indeed? Well, Berthe, serene little Berthe, with her cherry-red hat, was also having an affair with a married man!
    “So you were out in the street, not far from this building…Weren’t you afraid your parents might see you?”
    “It wouldn’t bother my parents…They’re quite decent…”
    “And you claim you saw Gérard Pardon entering the building?”
    “He was dressed exactly as he was today, in the same raincoat and the same gray hat with the turned-down brim…He looked around, and then bolted inside.”
    “What time was this?”
    “Seven o’clock in the evening. I’m quite sure of that, because the postman had just made his last delivery.”
    “Thank you very much.”
    “It’s important, don’t you think?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “But surely, if Cécile’s brother was in the building that night…”
    “Thank you, mademoiselle.”
    “Isn’t there anything else you want to ask me?”
    “No.”
    She stood up. Still hopeful, she added:
    “You can rely on me to help you all I can. I know all that goes on in this house…I could tell you…”
    “Thanks.”
    As he went to the door she brushed against him; he could feel the tension in her body.
    “Won’t I have to go to police headquarters, to have my statement taken down in writing?”
    “Not until you receive an official summons.”
    “
Au revoir,
Chief Superintendent.”
    “Good-by.”
    And Maigret, having locked the door and put the key in his pocket, went down the stairs. Inspector Jourdan was still on guard outside the building. Maigret signaled to him to carry on, and went off in search of a taxi.
    During the whole of lunch in his apartment on Boulevard Richard-Lenoir, his wife could not