The Dancer at the Gai-Moulin by Georges Simenon Read Free Book Online Page B

you—’
    â€˜Tell us where the money came
     from.’
    â€˜I
     don’t know, I swear—’
    â€˜No need to be swearing things all
     the time.’
    His dark suit was covered in dust.
     Wiping his face with his dirty hands, Chabot left grey marks on his cheeks.
    â€˜My father’s a sick man. He
     has heart trouble. He had a bad turn last year, and the doctor told him he must
     avoid distressing himself—’
    He was speaking in a dull voice. He had
     no strength left.
    â€˜Well, you shouldn’t have
     got into trouble, then, kid. And now, it would be better just to tell us everything.
     Who hit the man? You? Delfosse? That’s another boy on the way to perdition.
     And if there’s anyone we ought to be bringing in, it’s probably
     him.’
    A new policeman entered the room,
     greeted the others cheerfully, and sat down at a table, where he picked up a
     file.
    â€˜I didn’t kill anyone! I
     didn’t even know—’
    â€˜Look, I’m prepared to
     believe you didn’t actually
kill
him.’
    As if speaking to a child, the chief
     inspector was assuming a more paternal air.
    â€˜But you certainly know something.
     That money didn’t jump into your pocket. Yesterday you didn’t have any,
     and today you do. Give him a chair, someone.’
    Because Chabot was swaying on his feet.
     His legs were failing to hold him up. He sat down on a straw-bottomed chair and put
     his head in his hands.
    â€˜Take your time, no need to rush
     at it. Tell yourself this is your best chance of getting out of this mess. Anyway,
     you’re under seventeen, so you’ll go before the juvenile
court. And the worst you could get is a young
     offenders’ institution.’
    An idea struck Chabot, and he looked
     around a little less anxiously. He stared at his inquisitors in turn. None of them
     resembled the man with broad shoulders.
    Had he been mistaken about the stranger?
     Was he really a policeman? Or could it even be that he was the murderer? He’d
     been at the Gai-Moulin the previous evening. He had still been there when he and
     René had left the main room.
    And if he had followed them, could that
     be because he was trying to have them arrested in his place?
    â€˜I think I understand,’ he
     cried, panting with eagerness. ‘Yes, I think I do know who the murderer was. A
     big man, very tall, clean-shaven.’
    The chief inspector shrugged his
     shoulders. But Chabot didn’t give up.
    â€˜He came into the Gai-Moulin just
     after the Turk. He was alone. And I saw him again today, he followed me. He went to
     the greengrocer’s and asked her about me.’
    â€˜What’s he talking
     about?’
    Inspector Perronet muttered:
    â€˜Not sure. But yes, last night at
     the Gai-Moulin, there was a customer that nobody seemed to know.’
    â€˜And when did he leave?’
    â€˜Same time as the
     dancer.’
    Delvigne looked hard at Chabot, whose
     hopes were rising, then took no more notice of him. He spoke to his colleagues.
    â€˜Tell me, in what order exactly
     did people leave the club?’
    â€˜The two
     boys left first. Well, they didn’t really leave, because we’ve
     established that they hid on the cellar steps. Then the gigolo and the musicians.
     The place was closing. The man in question, the big fellow, went out with the girl
     Adèle. She works as a dancer.’
    â€˜So just the boss, Graphopoulos
     and the two waiters were left.’
    â€˜Ah no, one of the waiters, Joseph
     his name is, left with the musicians.’
    â€˜So, the boss, one waiter, the
     Greek—’
    â€˜And the two boys on the
     stairs.’
    â€˜And what does the owner
     say?’
    â€˜He says his rich customer left
     and that he and Victor, the other waiter, turned off the lights and locked
     up.’
    â€˜And nobody saw this other man
     Chabot is talking about, after