Maigret and Monsieur Charles

by Georges Simenon

  ‘That old crook Mocco has just given us a valuable piece of information, in any case. Monsieur Charles sometimes took his conquests to the countryside …’

  ‘I think I see what you mean.’

  ‘Among these women, there are all sorts … I knew one who had a PhD in sociology … Some have a lover … and those lovers aren’t always very reputable …’

  It was two o’clock in the morning. Maigret was no longer sleepy.

  Ten minutes later, they stepped out of the car outside the Cric-Crac, in Rue Clément-Marot. Loud pop music spilled out into the street. The façade was rainbow-coloured, as was the room where couples crammed the dance floor.

  The bar, once again. But the owner, a certain Ziffer, young and fair-haired, had already approached Maigret and Lapointe.

  ‘Can I help you, gentlemen?’

  Maigret flashed his badge under his nose.

  ‘I’m sorry, inspector … I didn’t recognize you … It’s so dark in here …’

  The room, which wasn’t large, was lit only by a slowly revolving mirror ball on the ceiling.

  ‘You won’t find any irregularities in my establishment, I assure you …’

  ‘Do you know Monsieur Charles?’

  The fair-haired Ziffer frowned, as if trying to remember something.

  It was the bartender who spoke, a very fat man with bushy eyebrows.

  ‘He always used to sit at the bar …’

  ‘When was the last time you saw him?’

  ‘Weeks ago …’

  ‘Did you see him on the 18th of February?’

  ‘What day was the 18th?’

  ‘A Tuesday …’

  ‘It doesn’t ring a bell … My last recollection is seeing him at the bar with Zoé …’

  ‘Did she go off with him?’

  ‘That’s not allowed, inspector,’ broke in the owner.

  ‘I know … I know … Did she go off with him?’

  ‘No. But he wrote something down in a little notebook, most likely an address that Zoé gave him …’

  ‘Is she here, this Zoé?’

  ‘She’s on the dance floor … The platinum blonde with amazing breasts …’

  ‘I’ll go and fetch her for you,’ Ziffer hastily offered.

  And Maigret, mopping his forehead, said to the bartender:

  ‘I don’t suppose you have any beer …’

  3.

  Zoé had the light blue eyes of an innocent little girl. She gazed with curiosity at the stranger, fluttering her eyelashes, and the owner said:

  ‘This is the famous Detective Chief Inspector Maigret and you can be truthful with him.’

  She did not appear to have heard of Maigret and she waited patiently, like a schoolgirl waiting for the teacher’s questions.

  ‘Do you know Monsieur Charles?’

  ‘By sight, of course. He comes here every so often.’

  ‘What do you call every so often?’

  ‘Almost every week.’

  ‘Does he always leave with a hostess?’

  ‘Oh no! Hardly ever. He watches us all and occasionally he buys a bottle for one of us.’

  ‘Does he dance?’

  ‘Yes. Very badly.’

  ‘How long is it since you’ve seen him?’

  She looked up at the ceiling, again like a schoolgirl.

  ‘Quite a while … The last time, we drank a bottle of champagne together …’

  ‘Do you remember the date?’

  ‘Yes … It was the 18th of February …’

  ‘How can you be certain?’

  ‘Because it was my birthday … He even bought me flowers from Joséphine, the old flower-seller who comes in every night …’

  ‘Did he ask you to leave with him?’

  ‘Yes … I was straight with him and told him I had a boyfriend waiting for me at home and he looked peeved … I felt bad for him because he was a sweet man …’

  ‘Nothing else happened?’

  ‘I told him that, if he wanted a nice girl, I had a friend who wasn’t a hostess but who sometimes entertained men at her place … Only respectable people … I asked him to excuse me for a moment so I could phone her to see if she was free … I got through to Dorine … She promised she’d be home …’

  ‘So you gave her address to Monsieur Charles?’

  ‘Avenue des Ternes, yes …’

  ‘What time was that?’

  ‘Around one o’clock in the morning …’

  ‘Did he leave right away?’

  ‘Yes …’

  ‘Have you seen Dorine since?’

  ‘I called her that same night, at around three, to find out if everything was going OK … She told me that Monsieur Charles hadn’t turned up and she was still waiting … The next time I saw her, she confirmed that no one had come.’

  ‘What about since then?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Have you seen Monsieur Charles again?’

  ‘No. I was even surprised that he’d stayed away from here for so long …’

  ‘Thank you, Zoé.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Yes, for the time being.’

  Maigret watched her walk off to her table and the owner came over and inquired:

  ‘Are you satisfied?’

  ‘Fairly satisfied.’

  So far, it seemed that young Zoé was the last person to have seen the lawyer. It had been one o’clock in the morning when he had left her to go to Avenue des Ternes, but he’d failed to arrive.

  ‘What now, chief?’ Lapointe wanted to know once he was at the wheel of the little car.

  ‘My place … I’ve had enough for tonight and you must be sleepy as well …’

  ‘Strange fellow, isn’t he?’

  ‘A strange fellow, yes. Either he had a particular taste for nightclub hostesses, or he wanted to avoid complicating his life with regular mistresses …’

  Once home, Maigret started undressing while Madame Maigret, who was in bed, asked him sweetly:

  ‘Had a good time?’

  ‘I think I might have made a little discovery … We’ll soon find out if it’s of any use …’

  ‘Not too tired?’

  ‘No. Wake me up at the usual time …’

  It took him a while to get to sleep because his mind was racing. His thoughts were still filled with the packed nightclubs and the din.

  But, all the same, he was in his office by nine o’clock the next morning, and the first person he spotted in the inspectors’ office was Janvier.

  ‘Come in here …’

  The sun was a little warmer than the previous day and, since he had a slight headache, he went over to open the window.

  ‘Your night?’

  ‘Quiet. Although there was one strange incident.’

  ‘Tell me …’

  ‘I’d parked the car fifty metres from the apartment building … I stayed at the wheel, my eyes glued to number 207a … A few minutes after eleven p.m. the door opened and I saw a woman come out …’

  ‘Madame Sabin-Levesque?’

  ‘Yes. She was holding herself stiffly, as if it was an effort for her to walk straight … I let her get a little way ahead and then I started up the engine. She didn’t go far … Not even two hundred metres … She went into a public telephone booth …’

  Maigret knitted his eyebrows.

  ‘She inserted a coin, but it looked as if she didn’t get through because she hung up almost immediately … The same with the second coin … It wasn’t until the third attempt that she began to speak … She was on the line for a long time, because twice she had to put in more money …’

  ‘It’s odd that she didn’t telephone from home … She must believe her line’s being tapped …
’

  ‘I suppose so … When she came out of the phone booth, her coat fell open briefly and I saw that she was in her nightdress … She went straight back to 207a, pressed the button and the door opened at once … Nothing further until the morning … I left instructions with Lourtie, and Bonfils will relieve him around midday …’

  ‘Have a wiretap put on that telephone as soon as possible …’

  Janvier was about to leave the office.

  ‘And the office number too … Then go to bed …’

  ‘Thanks, chief …’

  Maigret flicked through the post awaiting him, signed a few forms, and dropped in to update the superintendent on his progress.

  ‘Are you going back there?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t think you’ll see much of me in the office in the coming days.’

  Did the big chief know that Maigret had been offered his job? He made no reference to it, but Maigret had the impression that he was treating him with increased respect.

  Lapointe had arrived and was a bit out of sorts. He drove Maigret to Boulevard Saint-Germain.

  ‘Shall I come up with you?’

  ‘Yes. I might need you to take notes.’

  ‘I’ll bring my shorthand pad.’

  Maigret nearly went into the office on the ground floor but decided to go straight up to the apartment. The young maid, Claire Marelle, opened the door and scowled at him.

  ‘If you want to see Madame, I must tell you right away that she’s sleeping …’

  Ignoring her, Maigret stepped inside the hallway, followed by Lapointe.

  ‘Have a seat,’ he said to the young woman, indicating a chair.

  ‘I’m not supposed to sit down here …’

  ‘You’re supposed to do what I tell you …’

  She eventually sat on the edge of the leather-upholstered chair.

  This was why Maigret was sometimes criticized. A high-ranking police officer should summon witnesses to his office, and, as for the clubs he’d visited the previous night, he should have sent an inspector.

  Maigret lit his pipe and Claire Marelle glared at him as if he were committing a crime.

  ‘What time did your employer come home last night?’

  ‘To come home, she’d have had to go out.’

  ‘What time did she go out, if you prefer?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Were you asleep?’

  ‘As I said, she didn’t go out.’

  ‘Devoted as you are, and given the state she’s in almost every night, I am certain you must wait up to put her to bed before going to sleep yourself …’

  She was quite a pretty girl, but her stubborn attitude didn’t suit her. She looked at Maigret with apparent indifference.

  ‘So what?’

  ‘I can tell you that she came home at around half past eleven.’

  ‘She’s allowed to go out for some air, isn’t she?’

  ‘Weren’t you worried when you saw her go out? She was having trouble walking straight …’

  ‘Did you see her?’

  ‘One of my inspectors did. And do you know why she went out at that hour?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘To telephone from a public phone booth … Who was she in the habit of phoning before these past few days?’

  ‘No one … Her hairdresser … Shops …’

  ‘I’m talking about more private conversations … People don’t call their hairdresser at eleven o’clock at night, or their bootmaker …’

  ‘I don’t know anything.’

  ‘Do you feel sorry for her?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she was unlucky to land a husband like hers … She could be living the life she deserves, be a socialite, go out, entertain friends …’

  ‘And her husband stops her from doing so?’

  ‘He doesn’t take any notice of her. He sometimes disappears for a whole week, but this time he’s been gone for over a month …’

  ‘Where do you think he is?’

  ‘With some girl or other … He only likes girls he picks up God-knows-where …’

  ‘Has he asked you to sleep with him?’

  ‘Just let him try …’

  ‘Fine. Go and bring the cook to me and, while I’m talking to her, wake your mistress up and tell her I want to see her in around ten minutes …’

  She obeyed reluctantly, after giving him a furious look, while Maigret winked at Lapointe.

  Marie Jalon, the cook, was short and broad, quite plump, and she stared at Maigret with curiosity, as if thrilled to meet him in the flesh.

  ‘Sit down, madame. I already know that you’ve been part of the household for a long time …’

  ‘Forty years … I was here when Monsieur’s father was still alive …’

  ‘Has anything changed since?’

  She gave a deep sigh.

  ‘Everything has changed, my good sir. Since that woman’s been here, everything’s been topsy-turvy … There’s no longer any routine … Mealtimes are whenever she decides to eat … There are days when she has nothing at all and then, in the middle of the night, I hear a noise in the kitchen and I find her rummaging around in the fridge …’

  ‘Do you think it upsets your employer?’

  ‘Definitely … He doesn’t say anything about it … I’ve never heard him complain, but I know he’s resigned to it … I’ve known him since he wasn’t even ten years old and he was always hanging on to my apron strings … He was timid even then …’

  ‘So in your view, he is a timid person?’

  ‘I’ll say he is! If you knew about the scenes he puts up with, without protest and without daring to raise a hand to her …’

  ‘Aren’t you worried about his absence?’

  ‘I wasn’t at first … It’s quite usual … He has to have his little compensations from time to time.’

  Maigret smiled at the expression.

  ‘What I’m wondering is who alerted you … Unless it was Monsieur Lecureur …’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was it Madame Sabin-Levesque who came to tell you she was worried?’

  ‘Yes, she spoke to me. As for worried? … I can see you don’t know her … She’d watch him die at her feet without raising her little finger …’

  ‘Do you think she’s mad?’

  ‘She’s an alcoholic, yes … She starts drinking before she’s even finished her morning coffee …’

  ‘Have you not seen your employer since the 18th of February?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have you heard from him at all?’

  ‘Nothing … I have to admit that I’m really in a state about it …’

  Madame Sabin-Levesque was standing very still by the drawing room door. She was wearing the same dressing gown as on the previous day and hadn’t bothered to run a comb through her hair.

  ‘Have you come to see my cook?’

  ‘Both of you …’

  ‘I’m at your disposal …’

  She showed the two men into the boudoir where she had received them the day before. There was a bottle of brandy and a glass on a silver tray.

  ‘I presume I can’t offer you a drink?’

  Maigret shook his head.

  ‘What do you want of me this time?’

  ‘To ask you a question, first of all. Where did you go last night?’

  ‘I know from my maid that you’ve put me under surveillance. That saves me having to lie. I didn’t feel well and I went out for some air. On seeing a telephone booth, I had an urge to call one of my friends …’

  ‘So you have friends?’

  ‘It may surprise you, but I do …’

  ‘Can I ask the name of the woman you called?’

 
‘That’s none of your business and I shan’t answer.’

  ‘Was this friend of yours not at home?’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘You must have phoned three different numbers …’

  She said nothing but took a sip of brandy. She was not well. She would most likely have felt groggy on waking in the mornings, and alcohol was the only thing that restored her poise to some degree. Her face was puffy and her nose seemed longer and more pointed.

  ‘Another question for you. The drawers in your husband’s private desk are locked. Do you know where the keys are?’

  ‘In his pocket, I presume. I haven’t searched his rooms.’

  ‘Who was his closest friend?’

  ‘In the early days of our marriage, he often used to invite Auboineau, the lawyer, and his wife to dinner … He and my husband were students together …’

  ‘Do they still see each other these days?’

  ‘I don’t know … Be that as it may, Auboineau doesn’t come here any more … I didn’t like him … He’s a pretentious man who talks non-stop, as if he thinks he’s in court … As for his wife—’

  ‘What about his wife?’

  ‘No matter. She’s very proud of having inherited her parents’ chateau.’

  She had another drink.

  ‘Is this going to take long?’

  Maigret could tell she was tired and he felt rather sorry for her.

  ‘I suppose one of your men is still keeping a watch on me?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve finished for this morning …’

  Maigret signalled to Lapointe to follow him.

  ‘Goodbye, madame.’

  She did not reply and the maid was waiting for them in the drawing room to show them into the hallway and then out of the door.

  On the ground floor, Maigret went through the arch, walked into the firm’s office and asked to speak to Monsieur Lecureur. The latter came out to greet the two police officers and invited them into his office.

  ‘Do you have any news?’ he asked.

  ‘Not news, exactly. As far as I know, the last person who saw your boss was a hostess at the Cric-Crac in Rue Clément-Marot, and when he left her he was supposed to go to Avenue des Ternes, where a young woman was expecting him … That was in the middle of the night of the 18th of February … He never turned up at Avenue des Ternes …’