Maigret on the Defensive by Georges Simenon

Author:Georges Simenon [Simenon, Georges]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Georges Simenon
ISBN: 9780151555574
Google: ZrQaAQAAIAAJ
Amazon: 0380704099
Goodreads: 1867407
Publisher: Avon
Published: 1964-10-31T11:00:00+00:00

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6

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He took his time, so as to keep the maid hanging around on the ground floor. And, on his way upstairs, he tried to define the smell that pervaded the house, a smell he knew, not lacking charm, which dated from his childhood: the smell of old houses, and damp woodwork with a tang of mold.

At the back the little house must have kept one of those gardens one still occasionally finds in Paris, with a tree that, judging from its smell, Maigret would have sworn to be a lime.

He had never been in such a dubious position before, because he had no right to be here and, on the slightest complaint from the dentist, the Superintendent would be disowned and have a lot to explain.

It almost looked as though he were accumulating all the faults of which the Commissioner had accused him.

Hardly had his liking for informers been mentioned when he rushed to see Manuel, who was one.

He was forbidden to talk to Nicole and he went to a bar to question a member of the staff at the Sorbonne about her.

He was forbidden to make any mention of the matter at the Police Judiciare, so he first told Janvier about it, and then Lucas, and sent poor Barnacle to photograph the young lady in secret.

Finally, on such a thin pretext that Marcel Landry had not been deceived for a second, he had asked to see the register of a private club to which the niece of the Head of Petitions belonged.

All these crimes in one day! After having gone so far, he didn’t see why he should stop. Either he succeeded or else he failed and, in everybody’s eyes, his career would end disastrously.

Had he at least discovered something? Yes. He wasn’t yet sure of the value of the discovery but he had found a link between two women as different from each other and living in circumstances as opposed to one another’s as Nicole Prieur and Manuel’s mistress, Aline. Nicole had been backed by Doctor Mélan at the Hundred Keys. And, on at least one occasion the day before, Aline had been to the same doctor to have her teeth looked at.

All this crossed his mind in a few seconds, and on the first floor he didn’t go to the door on the right, as the Spanish woman had said, but to the door on the left. He quite liked to see the interiors of the houses of the people he was dealing with, especially the rooms to which he wasn’t invited.

The door was either locked or bolted, and below him a voice said:

“Don’t you know your right from your left?”

The maid had come up a few steps. Her large black eyes had about as much expression as a cow’s in a meadow, but nevertheless she was a handsome woman.

Written on an enamel plate was ring and enter.

He rang, turned the knob and found himself in a waiting room looking like a provincial drawing room where a single person was sitting, a youngish woman who seemed anxious and ill.

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