Maigret's Madwoman

by Georges Simenon

  ‘You may not have got in touch with him, but I did, and that’s why I was surprised not to see him. He seems like a nice young man.’

  ‘Well, as long as he gets his own way.’

  ‘Such as not wanting to be a chiropodist.’

  ‘He said that?’

  ‘He’s much more straightforward than you and I don’t have to ask him the same question ten times.’

  ‘If he’d had the life I have! You can do as you please, but I need a glass of something.’

  She drank not wine, but whisky, taking it from the living-room sideboard, which held an assortment of bottles.

  ‘Would you like some?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Or wine? Red? White?’

  ‘Nothing for now.’

  The men from Criminal Records arrived before Lapointe, who was heaven knew where, still trying to find a parking spot.

  ‘Here we are, boys. Go through all the rooms with a fine toothcomb. You know what we’re looking for, but you might find something else of interest. All I ask is that you put everything back carefully in its place.’

  She had lit a cigarette and sat down in an armchair by the window, from which there was a view of rooftops and a little corner of the Eiffel Tower.

  ‘You can stay here with them,’ he told Lapointe, who had finally arrived. ‘I’ve got something else to do on this side of town.’

  Once outside, he headed for Rue Mouffetard, but not without stopping for a glass of white wine in a bistro where there were boiled eggs on the counter.

  5.

  The hotel was a tall, narrow building, full of strong smells. Maigret climbed to the fourth floor and knocked at the door which had been indicated to him, with bad grace, at reception.

  A sleepy voice called out: ‘Come in!’

  The shutters were closed, and the room was dark.

  ‘I thought it might be you.’

  The red-haired youth jumped out of bed, quite naked, and grabbed a towel, which he draped round his hips. Still under the covers was a girl, turned towards the wall, her dark hair lying across the pillow all one could see.

  ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘The funeral was over quite a while ago.’

  ‘And you’re wondering why I didn’t turn up? Give me a minute to rinse out my mouth. Terrible hangover.’

  He filled a tooth mug at the washbasin and swilled out his mouth.

  ‘You should have stayed longer last night. These three English guys turned up with guitars and we were jamming for a couple of hours. They had a great chick with them. Who’s right here.

  ‘I just couldn’t force myself up this morning to go to the old lady’s funeral. Not very respectful of me, I know, but I didn’t all that much want to meet my mother. Has she found the loot?’

  ‘What loot?’

  ‘My great-aunt’s savings. She must have plenty stashed away, because she spent hardly anything. Her second husband had some put by as well. So my mother will get her little house in the end.’

  He opened the shutters, through which a ray of sunshine entered the room. The girl moaned and turned over, exposing one naked breast.

  ‘Your mother wants to buy a house?’

  ‘Yeah, a little house in the country for weekends, and then to retire to one day. She’s been dreaming of it for years. She tried to get her aunt to lend her enough money, but that didn’t come off. Sorry, I can’t offer you anything here.’

  ‘I was just passing.’

  ‘And you still haven’t found the revolver?’

  ‘No. Big Marcel has left town.’

  ‘Oh, no kidding! Well, my mother’ll be in a state.’

  ‘She threw him out herself. He’s gone to Toulon, where he has friends.’

  ‘She’ll have to find someone else, then. She can’t go three days without a man. As she gets older, it’s getting harder and costing more.’

  His cynicism wasn’t aggressive. His tone seemed almost affectionate as if nostalgic for the kind of family life he had never really known. So he was laying it on a bit thick.

  ‘Don’t leave Paris without informing me. The investigation is far from over, and I might need you again.’

  The young man jerked his chin towards the bed.

  ‘As you can see, I’ve good reason to stay.’

  Maigret returned to Rue Saint-André-des-Arts, where the men from Criminal Records were waiting for him.

  ‘Finished now, chief. Practically nothing to report. Just clothes, mostly dark-coloured, underwear, stockings, shoes. She must have a weakness for shoes, we found eight pairs.’

  Angèle Louette was still sitting in her chair, apparently indifferent.

  ‘The fridge is well stocked. Although she lives alone, she cooks proper meals. There are photos too, of herself and a child, dating back to when she was young. And an account book, where she records her income and the names of her clients.’

  ‘You’re forgetting the main thing,’ the other man interrupted.

  The first man shrugged.

  ‘Well, if it means anything. On top of the wardrobe, there’s some dust, and in the dust, a patch of grease or oil. The kind you use for guns.’

  Angèle intervened at this point.

  ‘There’s never been a gun in this house.’

  ‘But the traces look recent, and there’s a greasy piece of paper in the bin that could have been used to wrap up a revolver.’

  ‘In that case, it must be Marcel who had one, and he’s taken it away with him.’

  Maigret climbed on to a chair to see the grease stain for himself.

  ‘I’m summoning you to attend at Quai des Orfèvres at three this afternoon.’

  ‘What about my clients? Do you think I don’t have anything to do?’

  ‘I’m going to issue you with an official summons.’

  He took a yellow form from his pocket and filled in the blanks.

  ‘Three o’clock, as I said.’

  Lapointe was waiting patiently. They went back to the little black car parked about three hundred metres away. Moers’ men had left as well.

  ‘Does she have a telephone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She’ll probably take advantage of being alone to call Toulon. Were there any photographs of the old lady there?’

  ‘Three or four, but quite old. There’s one of a man with a moustache. She told me that was Antoine.’

  Maigret went home for lunch. His wife asked no more questions than the day before, except about the funeral.

  ‘Were there many people there?’

  ‘Apart from the niece, just Lapointe and me. The service was conducted at breakneck speed. You’d have thought everyone wanted to have done with her.’

  When he returned to the office, Janvier told him:

  ‘Chief Inspector Marella rang from Toulon and wants you to call him back.’

  ‘Get him on the line, then.’

  A few minutes later, he was put through.

  ‘Marella?’

  ‘Yes. I called you in case it’s of interest. Your man Marcel got here quite late last night and headed straight for the Amiral. He recognized me, acknowledged me, and went over to sit at the counter. He and Bob were talking in low voices after that. I couldn’t hear anything, because they had the jukebox playing at top volume.’

  ‘Nobody else with them?’

  ‘No. At one point, Bob went to the phone booth and called someone. When he got back, he was looking pleased and made a sign that I read as “everything’s OK”.’

  ‘And that’s all?’

  ‘No. Your Marcel checked into a room in the Hôtel des Cinq Continents, Avenue de la République. He was up at nine a.m. and went off in the car to Sanary. Does that ring a bell?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘One of the Giovannis lives there. The older brother, Pepito.’

  The Giovanni brothers had long been regarded as gangland bosses on the Côte d’Azur. The younger one, Marco, used to live in Marseille. Pepito had acquired a luxu
ry villa at Sanary, where he was now leading a quiet life.

  They had been arrested a dozen times, but it had always been difficult to make charges stick, for lack of evidence.

  They were getting on in years now, and ending their days under the guise of wealthy pensioners.

  ‘Did Marcel stay long at the villa?’

  ‘Nearly an hour. He went back to the Amiral, then had lunch in an Italian restaurant in the old town.’

  ‘Has he had any contact with the Giovannis before?’

  ‘Not that I know of.’

  ‘Can you have Pepito watched? I’d like to know if he makes any moves in the next few days, or receives visitors at the villa who aren’t the usual callers.’

  ‘I’ll see to it. If you’ll return the favour one day too. How’s your case going?’

  ‘Some leads seem to be materializing, but I’m still not getting anywhere. When it’s all over, I think I’ll come and recharge my batteries in the sun, somewhere in your neck of the woods.’

  ‘It would be a pleasure. How long since we last saw each other?’

  ‘Ten, twelve years? The Porquerolles affair, I think.’

  ‘Yes, I remember. See you soon then, Maigret.’

  They had started work together at Quai des Orfèvres and for over two years had pounded the streets, before being assigned first to the railway stations, then to the big department stores. They had both been young and unmarried in those days.

  Old Joseph came in to hand him the summons he had issued to Angèle.

  ‘Show her in.’

  She looked paler and more tense than usual. Was she simply impressed by the atmosphere at the Police Judiciaire?

  ‘Sit down.’

  He pointed to an ordinary chair facing his desk, and opened the door into the inspectors’ office.

  ‘Could you come here, Lapointe? Bring your notebook.’

  Young Lapointe, who often acted as his minute-taker, sat down at the end of the desk, pencil in hand.

  ‘As you can see, this time you’re being questioned officially. Anything you say will be taken down and you can sign the statement afterwards. I’ll probably have to ask you some questions you’ve already answered, only this time, your answers will be recorded.’

  ‘In short, you think I’m the number one suspect?’

  ‘No, just a suspect, there aren’t any numbers. You were not fond of your aunt.’

  ‘All she did when I told her I was pregnant was give me a hundred-franc note.’

  ‘So what you held against her was her avarice.’

  ‘She was self-centred. She didn’t give any thought to other people. I’m sure the reason she married again was for money.’

  ‘Did she have a difficult childhood?’

  ‘No, you couldn’t even say that. Her father was a man of means, as they used to say. The family lived near the Luxembourg Gardens and the two daughters, my mother and my aunt, had a good education. It was only in his middle years that my grandfather began to speculate and lost all his money …’

  ‘Was that when she married Caramé?’

  ‘Yes. He used to visit my grandparents quite often. And they all thought for a long while it was to see my mother. I think she thought so too. But in the end, it was my aunt who hooked him.’

  ‘What about your mother?’

  ‘She married a man who worked in a bank, and was in delicate health. He died young, and my mother had to go to work in a shop in Rue de Paradis.’

  ‘So you were brought up in modest circumstances?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Your aunt didn’t come to your assistance?’

  ‘No. Then, I don’t quite know why, I chose to train as a masseuse. Perhaps because there was one who lived in our building, and she had a car she drove to visit her clients.’

  ‘You have a car too?’

  ‘Just a little Citroën 2CV.’

  ‘To drive to your house in the country when you get one?’

  She frowned.

  ‘Who said anything about that?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. But apparently you’ve always dreamed of having a little house in the country, not too far from Paris, where you could go for weekends.’

  ‘Well, I don’t see what’s wrong with that. Plenty of people have a dream like that, don’t they? My mother certainly did, but she died before it ever came true.’

  ‘How much do you hope to inherit from your aunt?’

  ‘Forty or fifty thousand francs. I don’t know the exact figure. I’m going by the kind of thing she let drop now and then. Though she may have had other assets.’

  ‘So what it amounts to is that if you went on visiting her, it was simply because of the inheritance?’

  ‘If you want to put it like that. She was after all my only living relation. Have you ever lived alone, Monsieur Maigret?’

  ‘What about your son?’

  ‘I hardly ever see him, just when he’s short of money. He doesn’t have any affection for me.’

  ‘Think carefully before replying to my next question and don’t forget that your answers are being written down. Did you often go to your aunt’s house when she wasn’t there?’

  He had the impression that she turned paler, but she did not lose her composure.

  ‘Is it all right if I smoke?’

  ‘Go ahead, but I haven’t got any cigarettes to offer you.’

  On his desk there were only pipes, six of them arranged in order of size.

  ‘I asked you a question.’

  ‘Could you repeat it?’

  He did so at once.

  ‘It depends what you mean. There were days when I might arrive at Quai de la Mégisserie before she got home. And in that case, I’d wait for her.’

  ‘Inside the apartment?’

  ‘No, on the landing.’

  ‘Might that be for a long time?’

  ‘If she was late back, I’d sometimes take a walk along the embankment. Or I especially liked looking at the birds in the shop downstairs.’

  ‘Your aunt never considered letting you have a key to her apartment?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What if she had been taken ill suddenly?’

  ‘She was convinced that would never happen to her. She had never fainted in her life.’

  ‘And the door was never left open?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Even when she was there?’

  ‘No, she locked it behind her.’

  ‘Who was she suspicious of?’

  ‘Everyone.’

  ‘Including you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Did she show you any affection?’

  ‘She never showed any kind of emotion towards me. She would tell me to sit down. She’d make me coffee and fetch biscuits from the tin.’

  ‘And she didn’t ask you for news of your son?’

  ‘No. She must have seen him about as often as she saw me, more perhaps.’

  ‘Did she ever mention cutting you out of the inheritance?’

  ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘I’d like to get back to the locked door. The lock, and I checked it, wasn’t complicated. It would be easy enough to take an impression.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Never mind. I’ll ask you again, putting it a little differently. Have you ever, even once, found yourself alone in her apartment?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’ve thought carefully about that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Your aunt might have gone out while you were there, just to the shops, if she found she didn’t have any biscuits left, for instance.’

  ‘No, that never happened.’

  ‘So you would never have had occasion to look inside any of the drawers?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have you ever seen her savings book?’

  ‘I saw it one day when she took something out of the desk, but I don’t know how much was in it.’

  ‘And her bank book?’

/>   ‘I’ve no idea what she had in the bank. To tell the truth, I didn’t even know she had a bank account.’

  ‘But you knew she had money?’

  ‘Well, I suspected it.’

  ‘And not just her savings?’

  ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’

  ‘Never mind. Did you ever try to borrow money from her?’

  ‘Just once, I told you. When I was pregnant. And she gave me a hundred francs.’

  ‘I’m thinking of more recently. You would have liked a little house in the country. Did you ever ask her to help you with that?’

  ‘No. I can tell you didn’t know her.’

  ‘I’ve met her.’

  ‘And like everyone else, you thought she was a charming old lady with a sweet smile and a timid air. Well, in reality, she was as tough as old boots.’

  ‘Do you own a scarf with red stripes or checks on it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But there is, on the sofa in the living room, a cushion with red stripes, isn’t there?’

  ‘Maybe. Yes, I think so.’

  ‘Why did you quarrel with your lover yesterday?’

  ‘Because he was becoming impossible.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘When I meet a man for the first time, I don’t ask him for a certificate of good behaviour. But Marcel went too far. He wasn’t looking for work. He could have got himself a job behind a bar ten times over. He preferred to live with me and do nothing.’

  ‘Did he know your aunt?’

  ‘Needless to say, I never introduced him to her.’

  ‘But he knew of her existence?’

  ‘I suppose I must have mentioned her sometimes.’

  ‘And said she would have some loot put by?’

  ‘“Loot?” That’s not the kind of thing I’d say!’

  ‘Well, to sum it up: he did know where she lived and that there was a chance she’d have some savings at least.’

  ‘Yes, probably.’

  ‘Have you ever seen him on Quai de la Mégisserie?’

  ‘No, never.’

  ‘But he did go there. Two witnesses have reported seeing him.’

  ‘In that case, you’re better informed than me.’

  ‘Was there ever any question of marriage between you?’

  ‘Certainly not. Since I’ve had my son, I’ve never contemplated marrying. I take what I want from men, and it doesn’t go any further. Do you understand what I’m saying?’