Maigret in Court by Georges Simenon

Author:Georges Simenon [Simenon, Georges]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Georges Simenon
ISBN: 9780141029634
Google: ghNVPwAACAAJ
Amazon: 0141029633
Goodreads: 997804
Publisher: Avon
Published: 1959-12-31T11:00:00+00:00

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five

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At about eleven-thirty, Maigret had stopped for a moment in a taxi on Boulevard de Charonne. Jussieu, wearing the blank expression of men on night duty, had appeared silently out of the shadows, had pointed above them to a lighted window on the third floor. It was one of only a few lights still on in the neighborhood, a district where people leave for work early in the morning.

Rain was still falling, but the drops were well spaced and there were the beginnings of a silver glow between the clouds.

“That window up there is the dining room,” the detective, smelling strongly of cigarette smoke, had explained. “The light’s been off in the bedroom for the past half hour.”

Maigret waited a few minutes, hoping to catch a glimpse of life behind the curtain. Since nothing stirred, he went home to bed.

From reports and telephone calls next day, he was to reconstruct, then follow hour by hour, every movement of the Meurants.

At six o’clock in the morning, when the concierge was bringing in the trash cans, two other detectives had arrived to take over, although this time one did not go inside the house, since it was no longer possible to stay on the stairs during the daytime.

Vacher, who had spent the night there, sometimes sitting on a step, sometimes, if there was a sound of movement in the apartment, leaning against the door, made a report that was a little disturbing.

Quite early in the evening, after a meal during which the couple had hardly exchanged a word, Ginette Meurant had gone into the bedroom to get undressed; Jussieu, who had seen her, from out on the street, pulling her dress off over her head, as in a Chinese lantern show, confirmed this.

Her husband had not followed her. She had gone to him to say something, but then apparently went to bed while he remained sitting in an armchair in the dining room.

Later on, several times, he got up, walked around the room, stopping and starting repeatedly, only to sit down again.

Toward midnight his wife had gone in and spoken to him again. From the landing Vacher could not make out what they were saying, but he recognized their voices. From the tone, they were not quarreling. It was a kind of monologue from the young woman, with an occasional very brief sentence, or just a single word, from her husband.

She had gone back to bed, still by herself seemingly. The light had remained burning in the dining room, and at about half past two Ginette had returned once more.

Meurant had not been asleep, since he had replied at once, laconically. Vacher thought she had wept. He had certainly heard a monotonous complaining, punctuated by characteristic sniffling.

Still without any sign of anger, the husband had sent her back to bed and probably dozed off at last in the armchair.

Later, a baby had woken up on the floor above; there had been muffled footsteps; then from about five o’clock

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