The Hanged Man of Saint-Pholien by Georges Simenon

then?’
    â€˜Ten years ago?
     Hmm … That’s the year my sister-in-law died … I know! The
     big floods! We even had to wait a week for the burial because the only way you could
     get around in the streets down by the Meuse was by boat. Here, look at these
     articles:
The King and Queen visit the disaster victims
 … There
     are photos, and – wait, we’re missing an issue. How extraordinary! I’ll
     have to inform the director about this …’
    Maigret picked up a scrap of newsprint
     that had fallen to the floor while Joseph Van Damme – and there was no doubt about
     it – had been tearing out the pages for 15 February.

7. The Three Men
    There are four daily papers in Liège.
     Maigret spent two hours checking their archives one after the other and, as he
     expected, they were all missing the 15 February issue.
    With its luxury department stores,
     popular brasseries, cinemas and dance halls, the place to see and be seen in Liège
     is the busy quadrangle of streets known as the Carré. At least three times, the
     inspector caught sight of Joseph Van Damme strolling around there, walking stick in
     hand.
    When Maigret returned to the Hôtel du
     Chemin de Fer, he found two messages waiting for him. The first was a telegram from
     Lucas, to whom he had given certain instructions just before leaving Paris.
Stove ashes found room Louis Jeunet
     Rue Roquette analysed by technician stop Identified remains Belgian and French
     banknotes stop Quantity suggests large sum
    The other was a letter delivered to the
     hotel by messenger, typed on ordinary typing paper without any heading.
Detective Chief Inspector,
    I beg to inform you that I am
     prepared to furnish the answers you seek in your inquiry.
    I have my reasons for being
     cautious, and I would be obliged, if my proposal interests you, if you would
     meet me this evening at around eleven o’clock, at the Café de
la Bourse, which is behind the
     Théâtre Royal.
    Until then, I remain, sir, your
     most humble, loyal and obedient servant, etc., etc.
    No signature. On the other hand, a rather
     surprising number of business turns of phrase for a note of this kind:
I beg to
     inform you
 …
I would be obliged … if my proposal
     interests you … your most humble, loyal and obedient servant, etc.,
     etc. …
    Dining alone at his table, Maigret
     realized that, although he hadn’t much noticed it before, the focus of his
     attention had shifted somewhat away from Jean Lecocq d’Arneville, who had
     killed himself in a hotel room in Bremen under the name of Louis Jeunet.
    Now the inspector found himself haunted
     by the images Jef Lombard had hung up everywhere, those hanged men dangling from a
     church-steeple cross, from the trees in a wood, from a nail in an attic room,
     grotesque or sinister hanged men in the garb of many centuries, their faces livid or
     flushed crimson.
    At half past ten he set out for the
     Théâtre Royal; it was five to eleven when he pushed open the door of the Café de la
     Bourse, a quiet little place frequented by locals and by card players in
     particular.
    And there he found a surprise waiting
     for him. Three men were sitting at a table off in a corner, over by the counter:
     Maurice Belloir, Jef Lombard and Joseph Van Damme.
    Things seemed to hang fire for a moment
     while the waiter helped Maigret out of his overcoat. Belloir automatically rose
     halfway in greeting. Van Damme didn’t move a muscle. Lombard, grimacing with
     extraordinary nervous tension, could not keep still as he waited for his companions
     to make a move.
    Was Maigret going
     to come over, shake hands, sit down with them? He knew them all: he had accepted Van
     Damme’s invitation to lunch in Bremen, he’d had a glass of brandy at
     Belloir’s house in Rheims, and only that morning he had visited
     Lombard’s