‘In other words,’ said the examining magistrate, ‘Doctor Fabre is the last person to have left the building?’
‘Madame Bonnet – that’s the name of the concierge – is certain. Had she slept, she wouldn’t have been so categorical. But because of the baby, she was up the entire time.’
‘Was she still up when the two ladies returned? Did the child stay awake for two hours?’
‘Apparently. She was even worried about him and wished she’d seen Doctor Fabre so she could have asked his advice.’
They looked questioningly at Maigret, who had an irritable expression.
‘Have you found the cartridges?’ he asked, turning to one of the forensics experts.
‘Two cartridges … 6.35 … Can we remove the body?’
The men in white coats were waiting with their stretcher. As René Josselin was taken out of his front door under a sheet, his daughter entered the room noiselessly. Her gaze met that of Maigret, who went over to her.
‘Why are you here?’
She didn’t answer right away. She watched the stretcher bearers. Only once the door had closed behind them did she whisper, a little like someone speaking in a dream:
‘An idea occurred to me … Wait …’
She went over to an antique chest of drawers between two windows and opened the top drawer.
‘What are you looking for?’
Her lips trembled, and she looked intently at Maigret.
‘The revolver …’
‘Was there a revolver in that drawer?’
‘For years … That’s why, when I was little, the drawer was always locked.’
‘What kind of revolver?’
‘A very flat automatic, blue-coloured, a Belgian make.’
‘A Browning 6.35?’
‘I think so … I’m not sure … It was engraved with the word Herstal and some numbers.’
The men exchanged more looks, because the description was that of a 6.35 automatic.
‘When was the last time you saw it?’
‘A while ago … Weeks … Maybe even months … Probably one evening when we were playing cards, because the cards were in the same drawer … They’re still there … Here, things stay in the same place for a long time.’
‘But the automatic isn’t there now?’
‘No.’
‘So the person who used it knew where to find it?’
‘Perhaps it was my father who took it to defend himself.’
They could read the fear in her eyes.
‘Your parents don’t have any servants?’
‘They used to have a maid, who got married around six months ago. Since then, they’ve tried two others. Mother wasn’t satisfied and decided to hire a cleaner instead, Madame Manu. She comes at seven in the morning and leaves at eight o’clock at night.’
All this was normal, natural, except that this quiet man, who had recently retired, had been murdered in his armchair.
There was something that didn’t quite add up about the tragedy, something incongruous.
‘How is your mother?’
‘Doctor Larue made her go to bed. She won’t say a word and stares fixedly, as if she had lost consciousness. She hasn’t cried. She seems vacant … The doctor requests your permission to give her a sedative … He’d rather she slept … May he?’
Why not? It wasn’t by asking Madame Josselin a few questions that Maigret would find out the truth.
‘He may,’ he replied.
The forensics team worked with their usual quiet meticulousness. The deputy public prosecutor took his leave.
‘Are you coming, Gossard? Have you got your car?’
‘No. I came by taxi.’
‘I’ll drive you back, if you like.’
Saint-Hubert left too, muttering to Maigret on his way out:
‘Was I right to call you?’
Maigret nodded and went and sat down in an armchair.
‘Open the window,’ he said to Lapointe.
It was warm in the room and suddenly he was surprised that despite the summery temperature, Josselin had spent the evening with all the windows shut.
‘Call the son-in-law.’
‘Right away, chief.’
Fabre soon arrived, looking exhausted.
‘Tell me, doctor, when you left your father-in-law, were the windows open or closed?’
He thought, and looked at the two windows, whose curtains were drawn.
‘Wait … I don’t know … I’m trying to remember … I was sitting here … I believe I could see lights … Yes … I could almost swear that the left-hand window was open … I could distinctly hear the sounds of the city.’
‘And you didn’t close it before leaving?’
‘Why would I have done that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘No … It didn’t occur to me … You forget that this is not my home.’
‘Did you often come here?’
‘About once a week … Véronique visited her father and her mother more frequently … Tell me … My wife is going to sleep here tonight, but I would rather sleep at home … We never leave the children alone with the maid at night … Besides, I have to be at the hospital at seven tomorrow morning.’
‘What’s stopping you from leaving?’
He was surprised by this question, as if he considered himself a suspect.
‘Thank you.’
He could be heard talking to his wife in the next room, then he walked across the drawing room, bareheaded, holding his bag, and said goodbye with an embarrassed air.
THE BEGINNING
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PENGUIN CLASSICS
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Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.
First published in French as Maigret et le voleur paresseux by Presses de la Cité 1961
This translation first published 2018
Copyright © Georges Simenon Limited, 1961
Translation copyright © Howard Curtis, 2018
GEORGES SIMENON ® Simenon.tm
MAIGRET ® Georges Simenon Limited
All rights reserved
The moral rights of the author and translator have been asserted
Cover photograph (detail) © Harry Gruyaert/Magnum Photos
Cover design by Alceu Chiesorin Nunes
ISBN: 978-0-241-30392-4
Maigret and the Lazy Burglar Page 14