‘She hasn’t gone out much since her marriage. But I do sometimes see her in the morning …’
This round, rosy-cheeked woman could not suspect how much joy she brought to Maigret’s heart.
‘Perhaps to walk her dog?’
‘Does she have a dog? I’ve never seen it. I’d be surprised if there were a dog in the doctor’s house.’
‘Why is that?’
‘I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to me to be the type to have a dog. No! I suppose she goes out shopping. She usually wears a little suit. She tends to walk briskly …’
‘Around what time does she go past?’
‘Oh! It’s not every day, you know. I can’t even say that it’s often … If I notice her, it’s because it’s almost always at the time I’m putting the cakes in the window … Around ten o’clock … I sometimes see her coming back …’
‘Much later?’
‘Perhaps an hour afterwards? … I couldn’t swear to it … you know, so many people go past …’
‘Do you see her several times a month?’
‘I don’t know … I don’t want to mislead you … Let’s say once a week, for instance … Sometimes twice …’
‘Thank you very much …’
He had been repeating those four words ad nauseam all morning, even to the bearded haberdasher woman who had put him in his place.
And, since the cake shop, he had stayed on the trail. Sometimes it was a long and tedious process. It took patience to jog people’s memories.
‘In which direction does she walk?’
‘Towards the end of Le Remblai.’
‘In the direction of the pier or the pine woods?’
‘The pines.’
There were gaps. If a street ran into the promenade at that point, he had to check it out to make sure that Madame Bellamy didn’t take it.
The two inspectors, Piéchaud and Boivert, who had enjoyed a lie-in, walked past him, fresh and rosy-cheeked. They saw him go into a hair salon and must have thought that he was going to have a haircut. From a distance, Maigret could clearly see the windows of the white house. Why did he have the feeling he was being watched?
Today was Friday. It was the doctor’s consulting day: from ten to twelve, he should have been in the annexe at the bottom of the garden.
But there was nothing stopping him from leaving his patients in the lurch or getting rid of them quickly to go and stand behind the louvred shutters of the library. With binoculars it was the ideal place to follow Maigret’s comings and goings.
Was Bellamy watching him?
‘Either I’m wrong or …’
The same words had been going round and round in Maigret’s head since the previous evening and he remained conscious of a threat, not so much to himself − not immediately − but to some unknown person. He was so concerned that in the morning, he had telephoned Chief Inspector Mansuy, not without some trepidation.
‘Maigret here … Tell me, do you have anything to report? … No violent deaths? … No missing persons? …’
Mansuy had thought he was joking.
‘I’d like to ask you a personal favour. You know the municipal departments better than I do …’
Each time he telephoned from the Hôtel Bel Air, he could be certain that Monsieur Léonard was not far away, watching him like a faithful dog.
‘Émile Duffieux was in the habit of dropping in to your station every morning, then calling into the town hall and finally the sub-prefecture, to gather news … What? It’s your secretary he used to see? … It doesn’t matter … Try to understand my question … In theory, he should have been with you at around ten fifteen, ten thirty at the latest. That enables you to work out what time he arrived, still in theory, at the town hall and at the sub-prefecture …’
‘I can tell you straight away …’
‘Hold on … you haven’t understood what I’m getting at … I said, and I repeat, in theory … What I need to know is whether his hours were regular … If for example, from time to time, on a specific day or otherwise, he did his round a lot later …’
‘Understood …’
‘I’ll telephone you for your answer, or I’ll come and see you later on.’
‘Do you have any news?’
‘Nothing.’
The telephone call Maigret had received from Janvier late in the evening could hardly be called news. Émile Duffieux had not yet turned up at the poste restante. There were three letters for him, all postmarked Les Sables d’Olonne. Two were in the same handwriting.
‘A girl’s writing,’ added Janvier. ‘Should I take them and send them to you?’
‘Leave them at the post office until further orders.’
‘There’s also a telegram.’
‘I know. Thank you.’
The telegram informing the young man of his sister’s death.
As he hung up, Maigret was on the point of giving the inspector a new task but he felt that he alone was the person who could accomplish it successfully. He couldn’t be in Les Sables d’Olonne and Paris at the same time. Was he right to opt for Les Sables d’Olonne, for this dubious, painstaking chore that he had been carrying out since first light?
‘Odette Bellamy? … But of course, inspector …’
The fine leather goods dealer was another one who recognized him and spoke to him with the familiarity of a fan talking about a favourite film star.
‘Germaine,’ he yelled, ‘it’s Chief Inspector Maigret …’
They were a young, pleasant couple.
‘Do you have a lead? Is it true what people are saying?’
‘I have no idea what people are saying.’
‘That you want to arrest an important figure in town and that the examining magistrate is trying to stop you.’
So a tiny grain of truth had found its way into the most outlandish rumours.
‘That is false, madame, don’t worry. I don’t want to arrest anyone.’
‘Not even the killer of the Duffieux girl?’
‘My colleagues are handling that. I merely wish to ask you a question. Do you know Doctor Bellamy’s wife?’
‘I know Odette very well.’
‘Are you friends?’
‘We were, especially before she got married. Since then, we haven’t seen much of her.’
‘A propos, I’d like to know whether you see her walking past on Le Remblai from time to time?’
‘Fairly often.’
‘What do you call fairly often?’
‘I don’t know … Once or twice a week? … I sometimes talk to her, when I’m standing in the doorway …’
‘And do you know where she’s off to?’
The woman was stunned, like a person who had been expecting a tough test and who is asked the most mundane question.
‘Of course!’
‘Far from here?’
‘Right here … The house next door …’
‘Do you know why she goes there?’
‘It’s not hard to guess … It’s obvious you’re not a woman, inspector … On the first floor of the house next door there’s a dressmaker and lingerie shop run by another of my friends, Olga … Olga dresses all the most elegant women in Les Sables d’Olonne, except those who go to Nantes or Paris … But they too always have little things, even if it’s only underwear, that they need making …’
‘Are you certain that Odette Bellamy doesn’t go any further?’
‘I’ve seen her go next door countless times … Olga will tell you …’
‘Thank you very much …’
He was irked. His thinking was co
rrect, because the young woman did indeed go out alone once or twice a week, but he hadn’t been able to follow his idea through.
If he had had a family of his own, as a police officer at the station had said to him the other night, he would immediately have thought of the schoolmistresses.
Had he been a woman, he would immediately have thought of the dressmaker.
‘May I use your telephone?’
To call Mansuy.
‘I think you’re right, inspector. I wonder how you guessed … Usually, young Duffieux was very regular … He would arrive at each of the places within five minutes of the times you mentioned … But, from time to time, he would turn up not late, but nearly two hours later … I tried to find out if it was a particular day; unfortunately, no one was able to say …’
‘Thank you very much …’
It had become a refrain. He thanked people all day long. He thanked the couple again and went next door, a lovely house several storeys high with a huge, light-filled stairwell and big polished oak doors.
On the first floor, the copper plate on the left-hand door read:
OLGA
Haute couture – Fancy goods − Lingerie
Before going inside, he automatically emptied his pipe by banging it against his heel. A dishevelled little woman rushed up to him.
‘Can I help you, monsieur?’
‘I’d like to speak to Madame Olga.’
‘Who sent you?’
‘No one sent me.’
‘I’ll go and see if Mademoiselle is there.’
She did not have to go far, only through a curtain, from behind which came an exchange of whispers. Then a tall, slim woman came into the pearl-grey waiting room where Maigret stood expectantly.
‘Monsieur!’
‘Maigret … It doesn’t matter … Mademoiselle Olga?’
‘Yes.’
She had a confident step, and her face had sharp, strong features. She was extremely well dressed, in a light suit that made her look like a businesswoman.
‘If you would like to come this way into my office …’
It was tiny, and smelled of oregano and Virginia tobacco. She held out a cigarette case and he almost took one without realizing.
‘One of your customers is Doctor Bellamy’s wife, I believe?’
‘That is correct. Odette is not just a customer any more, she’s a friend.’
‘I know.’
‘Oh!’
‘She comes to see you often, two or three times a week, on average?’
‘Possibly. But may I ask …?’
‘I’m the one who is asking the questions, if you don’t mind. Did Doctor Bellamy telephone you this morning by any chance?’
‘No. Why?’
‘Nor yesterday?’
‘Nor yesterday.’
‘And he didn’t come and see you?’
‘He never sets foot here.’
‘And you didn’t spot him in the street? Forgive me for pressing the matter. It is of the utmost importance.’
‘No … I don’t see …’
‘Do you live in this apartment?’
‘Not strictly speaking … I have two connecting apartments … This one comprises only the fitting rooms and the workshop … The smaller one, which looks out over the back of the building, is where I live …’
‘Is there an entrance that isn’t on Le Remblai?’
‘Like the neighbouring houses, this one has two entrances, one on Le Remblai and the other in Rue du Minage.’
‘Listen, Mademoiselle Olga …’
‘It seems to me that I’ve done nothing but listen and answer you for a good while.’
She did not lose her cool, but smoked her cigarette and looked him directly in the eyes.
‘I’ve been searching for you since yesterday afternoon.’
She smiled.
‘You see, it’s not difficult to find me.’
‘I need you to answer me truthfully. Make sure no one can hear us.’
He was so insistent that she did as he asked, raised a curtain and went and gave orders to ensure that her staff were out of earshot.
‘Your friend Odette did not come here just to see her dressmaker.’
‘Do you think?’
Her lip had begun to tremble slightly.
‘Time is short. I assure you this is not the moment to try and be clever. Presumably you know who I am?’
‘No, but I imagine you’re a member of the police force.’
‘Detective Chief Inspector Maigret …’
‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘I am here on holiday. I am not in charge of any investigation. Two tragedies at least have occurred within a few days without my being able to avert them. If everyone had been truthful with me, I could have prevented the second.’
‘I don’t see what …’
‘Yes you do.’
Blood rushed to the young woman’s cheeks.
‘I wasn’t certain I’d find you alive this morning. The Duffieux girl, who knew less than you, was killed the other night.’
‘Do you think there’s a connection?’
She was beginning to yield. The hardest part of the job was done. She had barely realized what was happening to her, and now there was no going back.
‘Did Émile come in via Rue du Minage?’
One last time she opened her mouth to lie or to protest, but there was such determination in the big masculine head coming close to her that she stammered:
‘Yes …’
‘And I suppose that your friend Odette didn’t linger in the fitting rooms but went straight to your apartment?’
‘How can you know that?’
‘Where is she right now?’
‘You should know that too.’
‘Answer me.’
‘But … I presume she’s in Paris …’
Without thinking, Maigret took his pipe out of his pocket and dipped the bowl in his tobacco pouch.
‘No,’ he said harshly.
‘So he didn’t leave either?’
‘He is no longer in Les Sables d’Olonne.’
‘And are you certain that Odette still is? Have you seen her?’
‘I haven’t seen her with my own eyes, but Doctor Bourgeois, who is treating her, saw her three days ago.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘That doesn’t matter.’
‘What about her husband?’
‘Exactly!’
‘Do you mean he knows?’
‘It is more than likely.’
‘But then … but …’
She drew herself up, panic-stricken, and began to pace up and down the little office.
‘You have no idea what that means …’
‘Oh yes I do.’
‘He’s capable of anything … You don’t know him as well as I do … You don’t know his way of loving her … You’ve seen him … He seems like a cold man … That doesn’t stop him throwing himself at Odette’s feet sometimes and sobbing like a child … If such a thing were possible, he would have locked her away so that no man could lay eyes on her …’
‘I know.’
‘Odette has always been fond of him, and grateful to him … But she wasn’t happy … A number of times she thought of leaving, and she only stayed for fear of driving him to despair …’
‘But she did decide to in the end,’ muttered Maigret.
‘Because she fell in love … A man cannot understand these things … You probably never met Émile … If you’d seen him … If you’d seen his eyes, the way his hands sho
ok … If you’d felt the passion that …’
She stopped, embarrassed.
‘Forgive me,’ she said calmly. ‘That is not what you wanted to know.’
‘On the contrary.’
‘Well, they were in love, and that’s it.’
‘That’s it, as you say! And Odette asked you to help her meet her young lover.’
‘I wouldn’t have done it for anyone else.’
‘I have no difficulty believing you.’
‘I took a huge risk.’
‘You did.’
‘If there had been a scandal …’
‘And there will be.’
‘So what do you want of me? Why are you trying to alarm me?’
‘I am more alarmed than you are. I am trying to piece together the whole story precisely to avert a further tragedy.’
‘Are you certain that Odette hasn’t left?’
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t believe he left without her.’
‘Nor can I.’
She stared at him.
‘So what does that mean?’
‘He hasn’t been seen in Les Sables d’Olonne since the evening set for their elopement. He wasn’t seen at the station either. Tell me where they had arranged to meet.’
‘In the little street behind the doctor’s house.’
‘At what time?’
‘Around nine thirty.’
‘That’s the time that Bellamy is usually in the library, close to his wife’s bedroom.’
‘That evening there was a dinner at the prefecture and he had promised to attend.’
‘Are you certain that Odette hasn’t telephoned you or given any sign of life since?’
‘I swear it, inspector. You will agree that I’ve been honest with you …’
‘Do you know where your friend and Émile first met?’
Again she looked flustered.
‘I wonder whether I should tell you. You won’t understand. It’s so childish!’
‘I was a child once too.’
‘And did you ever spend weeks watching out for a woman and following her in the street? … That’s what he did … When she left her house to come and see me … It was last autumn … She had to have her entire winter wardrobe made … She came more often … She chose the time when her husband was seeing patients to feel free, even though at that point she wasn’t doing anything wrong … Émile followed her … You see how easy it is …’
Maigret's Holiday Page 14