Maigret and the Calame Report by Georges Simenon

Author:Georges Simenon [Simenon, Georges]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Georges Simenon
ISBN: 9780156551533
Google: jNzxAAAAMAAJ
Amazon: 0156551535
Barnesnoble: 0156551535
Goodreads: 311716
Publisher: Mariner
Published: 1953-12-31T11:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 6

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Before ringing at the first door Maigret hesitated and turned to Lapointe, who, on his side, had his finger on the bell.

“You’re not thirsty?”

“No, Chief.”

“You start. I’ll be back in a moment.”

At a pinch he might have made the telephone call he had suddenly thought of from the concierge’s lodge. But apart from the fact that he preferred to talk without witnesses, he felt it would be good to have a drink at this stage—a glass of white wine, for instance. He had to go about a hundred yards before he found a small bar with not a soul inside besides the owner.

“A glass of white wine,” he ordered.

He changed his mind.

“No, I’ll have a Pernod.”

It fitted better with his mood and with the time of day, also with this tidy little bar, which seemed permanently empty. He waited to be served and had emptied half of his glass before he went to the telephone.

When the newspapers report the story of an investigation, the impression is that the police follow through on a straight line, that they know where they are going from the start. Events follow one another with necessary logic, like the entries and exits of characters in a well-directed play.

Unnecessary comings and goings are rarely mentioned, and neither are the tedious searches in various directions that turn out to be red herrings.

Maigret could not have mentioned a single investigation during which, at one moment or the other, he had not floundered. This morning he had not had the time, at Police Headquarters, to question Lucas, Janvier, and Torrence, who had all been given instructions the day before, all of which this morning seemed of no importance.

“Police Headquarters? Get Lucas on the line, please. If he isn’t there, give me Janvier.”

He heard Lucas’s voice at the other end.

“Is that you, Chief?”

“It is. First of all, will you make a note of something very urgent. I want you to get hold of a photograph of Piquemal, the guy from the School of Engineering. It’s useless to look for one in his hotel room. I’d be surprised if they haven’t one of those group photos at the school, the kind they take usually at the end of the year. The men at the Criminal Records Office may find it useful. I want them to get on to it as quickly as possible. There’s still time to get the photo into the afternoon papers. It is to be transmitted to all police stations too. To be sure to miss nothing, I want inquiries made at the Medico-Legal Institute.”

“Okay, Chief.”

“Anything to report?”

“I’ve found the woman called Marcelle; her name is Marcelle Luquet.”

In his own mind Maigret had already abandoned this line of inquiry, but he did not want to make Lucas feel he had worked for nothing.

“And?”

“She works as a proofreader at the Imprimerie du Croissant; she’s on the night shift there. It isn’t where they print the Rumor or the Globe. She’s heard Tabard mentioned, but doesn’t know him personally.

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