The Bar on the Seine by Georges Simenon

Author:Georges Simenon [Simenon, Georges]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Georges Simenon
ISBN: 9780143038313
Google: fO6QygAACAAJ
Publisher: Penguin (Non-Classics)
Published: 1931-11-30T11:00:00+00:00

Maigret stood up, looking at Victor.

“ You’ll stay just where you are.”

“ Anything to oblige!”

Outside, nobody thought of ordering a drink. All eyes were turned on the man in black, rowing. Maigret walked down to the reeds by the water-side, where he waited impatiently.

“ What’s the matter?”

The detective was out of breath.

“ Jump in… I swear it wasn’t my fault…”

He rowed back, this time with Maigret in the stern-sheets.

“ Everything was perfectly quiet. The man with the vegetables had just left… Madame Basso and the boy were walking together in the garden… I admit there was something funny about them.

As though they were expecting something… A car drove up, a brand-new one by the look of it, stopping exactly at the gate. A man got out…”

“ Rather bald, but still young?”

“ Yes. Well, he joined the others, and the three of them walked up and down the garden, talking… You know the place we watch from, don’t you? Quite a little way off. Too far to hear anything that was said… Then they shook hands, walked over to the car, and the chap got in and started her up. And just as he was putting the clutch in, the other two made a dive into the rear seats… I hadn’t time to get there. The car went off at the hell of a rate.”

“ Who fired the shot?”

“ I did. I hoped to puncture one of the tyres.”

“ Was Berger with you?”

“ Yes. I was on duty, but he’d strolled over to have a chat. I sent him off at once to Seineport to telephone all round.” It was the second time the alarm had been given to all the gendarmeries of Seine-et-Oise. The boat had reached the other bank. Maigret jumped out and walked up the garden. What was to be done? Nothing. Only to telephone, and Berger was already doing that.

Maigret bent down and picked up a woman’s handkerchief embroidered with Madame Basso’s initials. It was wet and almost torn to ribbons by the chewing she had given it while waiting for James.

But what upset the inspector was the memory of all the Pernods he had drunk at the Taverne Royale, all those hours he had whiled away sitting lethargically by James’ side, staring out into the sun-bathed or rain-drenched street.

He resented that memory, resented the thought that he had let himself slide, played himself false.

“ Shall I still keep watch on the house?”

“ What for? To see it doesn’t run away too?… No, run over to Seineport as fast as you can. Take Berger with you and join in the hunt. See if you can get hold of a motorbike, so that you can keep me posted.”

An envelope lay by the vegetables on the kitchen table. It was addressed to Madame Basso, and Maigret felt sure it was in James’ writing.

The letter had evidently been delivered with the vegetables. It had told her to be ready. And from the moment she had received it she had walked nervously up and down the garden, her teeth tugging at the corners of her handkerchief.

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