Maigret in New York by Georges Simenon Read Free Book Online

who rose in turn
and
paced up and down the room more calmly than
Little John, ‘obviously your son, for some reason unknown to us, although perhaps not to you
…’
    Wait a minute! He was making such a serious
insinuation to his boss?
    ‘… felt compelled to appeal to someone
known for his wisdom in criminal matters …’
    Maigret remained seated. It was instructive to
watch the two of them, so different one from the other. Almost as if, at moments, the contest
were playing out between the two of them and not with Maigret.
    For Little John, so brusque at first, allowed his
secretary, a man thirty years younger, to go on talking. And he did not seem happy about it. He
was humiliated, that was clear. He was yielding the floor with regret.
    ‘Given that your son cares about one person and
only one, his father; given that he rushed to New York without telling you beforehand – at least
so I suppose …’
    The hit went home, no doubt about it.
    ‘… then there is every reason to believe
that he heard some upsetting news about you. The question is, who planted this troubling
possibility in his mind! Do you not think, inspector, that the entire problem lies there? Let’s
summarize the matter as simply as possible. You are alarmed by the rather inexplicable
disappearance of a young man the moment he arrives in New York. Unfamiliar with police matters
and relying solely on common sense, I put it this way.
    ‘When we find out who made Jean Maura come to New
York, meaning whoever cabled him who-knows-what
about some danger menacing his father (because otherwise, there
was no need for him to request the company of a policeman, if I may use that word) – when that
has been determined, it should not be hard to discover who made Jean disappear.’
    During this lecture, Little John had gone to
stand at the window, where, holding the curtain open with one hand, he was gazing outside. His
silhouette was as lean of line as his face.
    And Maigret found himself wondering: clarinet?
Violin? Which of the two Js did this man play in that long-ago burlesque act?
    ‘Am I to understand, inspector, that you refuse
to answer?’
    Then Maigret, fishing for advantage, announced,
‘I would like to speak with Mr Maura in private.’
    Little John whipped around, startled. His first
glance was for his secretary, who seemed supremely indifferent.
    ‘I have already told you, I think, that you may
speak in front of MacGill.’
    ‘In that case, please forgive me if I have
nothing to say to you.’
    Well, MacGill was not offering to leave. He
stayed on, sure of himself, like someone who knows he’s in the right place.
    Was it the little man who would lose his temper?
In his cold eyes there was something like exasperation, but like something else as well.
    ‘Listen to me, Mr Maigret. We must make an end of
this and will do it in few words. Talk or don’t talk, it’s all
the same to me, because what you might have to say does not much
interest me. A boy, worried for reasons I don’t know, went to see you, and you jumped headlong
into an affair that did not concern you. This boy is my son. He is a minor. If he has
disappeared, that is my business and mine alone, and if I must turn elsewhere to look for him,
it will be to the police of this country. I assume I am making myself clear?
    ‘We are not in France and, until further notice,
my doings are my own affair. I will therefore allow no one to interfere with me and, if
necessary, I will take steps to see that my full and complete liberty will be respected.
    ‘I do not know if my son gave you what’s called
an advance. If he did not think of it, let me know, and my secretary will hand over a cheque
covering your current travel expenses and return passage to France.’
    Why did he glance briefly at MacGill as if
seeking his approval?
    ‘I am waiting for your answer.’
    ‘To which question?’
    ‘Regarding the cheque.’
    ‘I thank you.’
    ‘One last word, if you please … You