The Flemish House by Georges Simenon, Georges Simenon; Translated by Shaun Whiteside Read Free Book Online Page A

Well, at the very least I have
     proof that Joseph Peeters, who claims not to have come to Givet that day, was there
     … He came on his motorbike and …’
    â€˜Are you talking about the
     witness? It’s worthless now. Another motorcyclist has turned up to say he was
     the one who drove along the quay just after eight o’clock …’
    â€˜Ah!’
    And, aggressively:
    â€˜Are you against us?’
    â€˜I’m not with anyone!
     I’m not against anyone! I’m just looking for the truth.’
    But Gérard chuckled and said loudly to
     his father:
    â€˜The inspector didn’t come
     here to try and catch us out … You’ll forgive me, inspector … But I need to
     eat … I have to earn a living, and my office opens at two o’clock!’
    What was the point of talking? Maigret
     cast one last glance around him, spotted the child’s cot in the next room and
     headed towards the door.
    Machère was waiting for him at the
     Hôtel de la Meuse. The travelling salesmen were having their lunch in a little room
     separated from the café by a glass door.
    But in the café itself you could have a
     snack, without a tablecloth, and there were some people eating like that.
    Machère wasn’t alone. A little man
     with monstrously wide shoulders and the long arms of a hunchback washaving an aperitif at his table, and got up when he saw Maigret coming in.
    â€˜The owner of the
Étoile
     Polaire
!’ announced Machère, who was very animated. ‘Gustave
     Cassin …’
    Maigret sat down. A glance at the
     saucers told him that his companions were already on their third aperitif.
    â€˜Cassin has something to tell you
     …’
    That was exactly what the man was
     waiting for! As soon as Machère fell silent, he started off, leaning importantly on
     the chief inspector’s shoulder:
    â€˜You have to say what you have to
     say, am I right? … Except there’s no need to say it when people are asking you
     not to say it … As my late father used to say: don’t overdo it!’
    â€˜A beer!’ said Maigret to
     the approaching waiter.
    And he pushed back his bowler hat and
     unbuttoned his overcoat. Then, as the sailor stumbled for words, he muttered:
    â€˜If I’m not mistaken, on the
     evening of the third of January you were completely drunk …’
    â€˜Completely, that’s not
     true! … I’d had a few glasses, but I was still walking straight … And I
     clearly saw what I saw …’
    â€˜You saw a motorbike turning up
     and stopping outside the Flemish house?’
    â€˜Me? … Never in my life!
     …’
    Machère gestured to Maigret not to
     interrupt the man and encouraged him to continue with a wave of his hand.
    â€˜I saw a woman on the quay …
     I’ll tell you who itwas … The one of the two sisters
     who’s never in the shop and takes the train every day …’
    â€˜Maria?’
    â€˜Maybe that’s her name …
     Thin, with blonde hair … Well! It wasn’t natural for her to be out of doors,
     given that the wind was rattling the moorings of the boats …’
    â€˜At what time?’
    â€˜When I came back to go to bed …
     Perhaps about eight … Perhaps a bit later …’
    â€˜Did she see you?’
    â€˜No! Rather than going on my way,
     I pressed myself against the customs shed, because I thought she was waiting for a
     lover, and I was hoping to have a laugh …’
    â€˜Really! You’ve been
     sentenced twice for indecent assault …’
    Cassin smiled, showing a row of rotten
     teeth. He was a man of indeterminate age, his hair still brown, low over his
     forehead, but his face was very wrinkled.
    He was very concerned with the effect he
     produced, and every time he uttered a phrase he looked first at Maigret, then at
     Inspector Machère, and then at a customer