Liberty Bar by Georges Simenon

Author:Georges Simenon
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

7. The Order

Maigret stood up impatiently and, to forestall any potential trick on the part of the two women – the customer could be a messenger from Joseph, for example – he decided to go into the bar himself.

‘What do you want?’

The man seemed so taken aback that, in spite of his bad mood, Maigret almost burst out laughing. He was a middle-aged fellow, dull complexion, grey hair, who no doubt had crept furtively through the sidestreets in pursuit of some dream of unbridled sex, only to have the surly Maigret pop up behind the bar!

‘A bock …’ he stammered, letting go of the slot-machine handle.

Behind the curtain, the inspector could see the two women in a huddle. Jaja was asking questions, and Sylvie was replying wearily.

‘There’s no beer!’

At least, Maigret couldn’t see any within reach!

‘Then whatever you like … A port maybe …’

Maigret poured some liquid or other in the first glass he could find. The man barely sipped it.

‘How much?’

‘Two francs.’

Maigret alternately observed the street, still bathed in warm sunshine, the small bar opposite, where he could see moving shapes, and the back room, where Jaja had sat down again.

The customer left, wondering what sort of place he had landed up in, and Maigret returned to the back room and sat down astride his chair.

Jaja’s demeanour had changed somewhat. Earlier, she had looked worried, and it was obvious she didn’t know what to think. Now, her anxiety seemed more focused. She looked at Sylvie pensively, a look of pity with a barb of rancour. She seemed to be saying: ‘It’s a fine mess that you have got yourself into! It won’t be easy to find a way out of it!’

She said out loud:

‘You know, inspector … Men can be strange …’

Her words lacked conviction, and she knew it. As did Sylvie, who shrugged her shoulders.

‘He saw her at the funeral this morning and he must have desired her … He is so rich that …’

Maigret sighed, lit another pipe and let his gaze wander to the window.

There was an ominous atmosphere in the room. Sylvie was keeping her mouth shut for fear of making things worse. She wasn’t crying, wasn’t moving, just waiting for who knows what.

Only the small alarm clock kept working, pushing its black hands, which seemed too heavy for it, laboriously round its pale clock face.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock …

Jaja was not made for such dramas. She got up and went to fetch a bottle of alcohol from the cupboard. As if nothing were going on, she filled three glasses and slid one across to Maigret, another to Sylvie, without saying a word.

The twenty thousand francs were still on the table, next to the handbag.

Tick tock, tick …

And so it went on, for an hour and a half! An hour and a half of silence, interspersed only by Jaja’s sighs. As she drank, her eyes became glassy.

Occasionally some children would play and shout out in the street. At other times there was the insistent sound of a tram bell somewhere in the distance.

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