Maigret Gets Angry by Georges Simenon Read Free Book Online Page B

into the room. At last he sat down at his desk
and started fiddling with a crystal paper knife.
    Maigret had perched on the arm of an armchair and
was slowly filling his pipe, giving the impression that his mind was a blank. When the silence
had gone on for some time, he asked quietly:
    ‘Where is your son?’
    ‘Which one?’
    Then, correcting himself:
    ‘This is not about my son.’
    ‘It’s about me, isn’t
it?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    ‘Well! Yes, it is about you.’
    Beside this wiry, elegant man with refined,
well-groomed features, Maigret cut an oafish figure.
    ‘How much are you offering me?’
    ‘What makes you think that I was planning
to offer you anything?’
    ‘I imagine you are.’
    ‘Why not, after all? The police force
isn’t very generous. I don’t know what kind of a pension they pay you.’
    And
Maigret, still gentle and humble:
    ‘Three thousand, two hundred.’
    He added, with disarming candour:
    ‘Of course, we have some
savings.’
    This time, Ernest Malik was truly disconcerted.
This seemed all too easy. He had the feeling his former schoolmate was laughing at him. And yet
…
    ‘Listen—’
    ‘I’m all ears—’
    ‘I know what you’re going to
think.’
    ‘I think so little!’
    ‘You’re going to think that your
presence here bothers me, that I have something to hide. And supposing that were the
case?’
    ‘Yes, supposing that were the case?
It’s none of my business, is it?’
    ‘Are you being sarcastic?’
    ‘Never.’
    ‘You’d be wasting your time with me,
you see. You probably think you’re very clever. You have had a successful and
distinguished career chasing thieves and murderers. Well, Jules my friend, there are no thieves
or murderers here. Do you understand? Through the greatest of coincidences, you have landed in a
world you don’t know and where you are likely to do a lot of damage. That’s why
I’m telling you—’
    ‘How much?’
    ‘A hundred thousand.’
    Maigret didn’t bat an eyelid, then Malik
said, nodding hesitantly:
    ‘A hundred and fifty. I’ll go up to
two hundred thousand.’
    He
was on his feet now, jittery, tense, still fiddling with the paper knife, which suddenly snapped
between his fingers. A bead of blood formed on his index finger and Maigret commented:
    ‘You’ve hurt yourself.’
    ‘Be quiet. Or rather answer my question.
I’ll write out a cheque for two hundred thousand francs. Not a cheque? No matter …
The car will take us to Paris later and I’ll pick up the cash from my bank. Then
I’ll drive you back to Meung.’
    Maigret sighed.
    ‘What’s your answer?’
    ‘Where is your son?’
    This time, Malik could not contain his anger.
    ‘It’s none of your business.
It’s no one’s business, do you hear? I’m not in your office at Quai des
Orfèvres and neither are you. I am asking you to leave because your presence here is
ill-timed, to say the least. People are talking. They’re wondering—’
    ‘What exactly are they
wondering?’
    ‘One last time, I’m asking you
politely to leave. And if you do, I’m prepared to offer you a very generous reward. Is it
yes or is it no?’
    ‘It’s no, of course.’
    ‘Very well. In that case, I’m going
to have to change my tune.’
    ‘Go ahead.’
    ‘I’m no angel and I never was.
Otherwise I wouldn’t be where I am today. Now, through your pig-headedness, through your
stupidity, yes, stupidity, you’re likely to
unleash a calamity that you don’t even suspect. And
you’re happy, aren’t you? You think you’re still in the Police Judiciaire
grilling some little cutthroat or some young delinquent who’s strangled an old woman.
    ‘I haven’t strangled anyone, you
should know that. I haven’t robbed anyone either.’
    ‘In that case—’
    ‘Silence! You want to stay, so you’ll
stay. You’ll carry on poking your big nose in everywhere. Well, on your head be it.
    ‘You see, Maigret, I’m a lot stronger
than you are and I’ve