Maigret and the Good People of Montparnasse: Inspector Maigret #58 by Simenon Georges

Author:Simenon, Georges [Simenon, Georges]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Crime
ISBN: 9780241303948
Amazon: 024130394X
Goodreads: 60390713
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 1962-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

6.

The two men stood on the pavement a few paces from the apartment building, as if unwilling to part. A fine, barely perceptible drizzle was falling and at the bottom end of the street, high-pitched bells had started ringing, to which others responded from another direction, and then another.

A stone’s throw from Montparnasse and its cabarets, this neighbourhood close to the Luxembourg Gardens was not only a quiet, middle-class haven, but it was also home to several convents. Behind the Little Sisters of the Poor there was the Servants of Mary; in neighbouring Rue Vavin was the Sisters of Zion, and, at the other end of Rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs, the Augustinian Sisters.

Maigret seemed to be listening to the chiming of the bells. He inhaled the air moist with invisible droplets, then sighed and said to Lapointe:

‘Drop in to Rue du Saint-Gothard, would you? It will only take you a few minutes by taxi. On a Saturday, the offices and factory will probably be locked up. If Jouane is like his old boss, there’s a chance that he’ll have come in to finish off some urgent task on his own. If not, you’re bound to find a concierge or watchman. If need be, ask for Jouane’s home telephone number and call him.

‘I’d like you to bring me a framed photograph that I saw in his office. Yesterday, while he was talking to me, I looked at it absently without thinking it might be useful to me. It’s a group photo with René Josselin in the centre, flanked by Jouane and Goulet most likely, with other male and female employees in rows behind them, thirty or so people altogether.

‘Not all the women factory workers are there, only the longest-serving employees or the most senior. I suppose the photo was taken at a birthday celebration or when Josselin retired.’

‘Shall I see you back at the office?’

‘No. Come and meet me at the brasserie on Boulevard de Montparnasse, where I was earlier.’

‘Which one is it?’

‘I think it’s called the Brasserie Franco-Italienne. It’s next to a shop that sells artists’ materials.’

Maigret went off, his shoulders stooped, drawing on his pipe, which he’d just lit and which, for the first time that year, had the taste of autumn.

He felt a lingering embarrassment at his harshness towards Madame Josselin and realized that this wasn’t over but was just the start. Most likely she wasn’t the only person who was hiding something from him or lying to him. And it was his job to uncover the truth.

It was always painful for Maigret to back someone into a corner, and that was because of an incident in his childhood, during his first year at school in his village in the Allier.

That was when he’d told his first ever big lie. The school gave out textbooks that were used, and some of them were badly battered. But some pupils bought brand new textbooks, and he wanted one.

One of the books he’d been given was a catechism with a greenish cover, its

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