Inspector Cadaver

Inspector Cadaver by Georges Simenon

Book: Inspector Cadaver by Georges Simenon Read Free Book Online
Authors: Georges Simenon
…’
    Oh goodness what? She was waiting for her
husband to come back, for anyone to appear who would put an end to the torment of this
tête-à-tête.
    Maigret felt remorse. What was stopping him
from getting to his feet and saying, ‘I think your brother made a mistake asking
me to come here. There’s nothing I can do. This affair is none of my concern and,
if you don’t mind, I’ll take the first train to Paris. I am very grateful
for all your hospitality.’
    He saw Pockmarks’ pale face again, his
fiery eyes, his sardonic mouth.
    Most of all, though, he saw Cavre’s
silhouette, with his briefcase under his arm; Cavre, who finally, after somany years, happened by pure chance to have been granted the
opportunity to triumph over his hated former boss.
    Because Cavre loathed him. He loathed
everybody, naturally, but he loathed Maigret in particular. Maigret, whom he considered
as his alter ego, a successful version of himself.
    He had outmanoeuvred him at every turn, it
seemed, since the moment they had stepped off the train, and Naud had almost got them
mixed up.
    Where was that clock he could hear ticking?
    Maigret looked round the room for it. He was
gripped by a deep sense of unease. He thought to himself, ‘Another five minutes
and this poor woman is going to throw a fit. She’ll blurt out the truth. She
can’t take it any more. She’s at the end of her tether …’
    He only needed to ask her a direct question.
Or not even that. He could just go and stand in front of her and look searchingly into
her eyes. Would she be able to resist?
    Instead of which, he not only kept silent
but even, to put her at ease, discreetly reached for a periodical lying on a side table.
It was a women’s magazine devoted to embroidery patterns.
    As in a dentist’s waiting room, where
you read things you wouldn’t think of reading anywhere else, Maigret slowly turned
the pages, attentively studying the pink and blue illustrations, without the invisible
bond between him and his hostess slackening for a moment.
    It was the maid who saved them. She was a
young, rough-and-ready country girl, whose black dress andwhite apron
brought out her strong, irregular features.
    ‘Oh, sorry! … I didn’t
know there was anyone …’
    ‘What is it, Marthe?’
    ‘I was wondering if I should lay the
table or if I should wait for monsieur …’
    ‘Lay the table!’
    ‘Is Monsieur Alban coming to
dinner?’
    ‘I don’t know. Lay his place
anyway …’
    What a relief to utter everyday words, to
talk about simple, reassuring things! She clutched at the subject of Alban.
    ‘He came for lunch today. That’s
right, when you rang, he picked up the telephone. He leads such a lonely life!
We’ve come to think of him as one of the family …’
    Now that an opportunity to escape had
finally presented itself, she seized it.
    ‘Will you excuse me for a moment? A
mistress of the house, you know … Always something to keep an eye on in the
kitchen … I’ll ask the maid to tell my daughter to come and keep you company
…’
    ‘Don’t trouble yourself, please
…’
    ‘In any case …’ She
listened intently. ‘Yes … There’s my husband …’
    A car stopped at the base of the steps, its
engine still running. Voices could be heard. Maigret wondered if his host had brought
someone, but he was merely giving some instructions to a servant who had rushed out to
the car.
    Naud pushed open the door of the drawing
room before he had taken off his leather coat. Astonished to find them in a
tête-à-tête, he gave them an anxious look.
    ‘Oh! You’re …’
    ‘I was just telling
the inspector, Étienne, that I had to leave him for a moment to go and check in the
kitchen …’
    ‘My apologies, inspector. I am on the
General Council’s Agricultural Board and I had forgotten we had an important
meeting today …’
    He sneezed and poured himself a glass of
port, trying as he did to work out what might have happened in his absence.
    ‘Well,

Similar Books

The Lonely Pony

Catherine Hapka

The Theoretical Foot

M. F. K. Fisher

Save Me

Kristyn Kusek Lewis

Arrows

Melissa Gorzelanczyk

Scrivener's Moon

Philip Reeve