The Grand Banks Café by Georges Simenon Read Free Book Online

the harbour. When my men get there,
     they’re all beating seven bells out of each other. Then they spot uniforms and
     they close ranks and go on the offensive. Question them and they all lie, contradict
     each other and muddy the waters to the point that in the end we give up.’
    There were four of them smoking in the
     office, which was already filled with tobacco fumes. It was evening. The divisional
     head of Le Havre’s flying squad, who was officially in charge of the
     investigation, had a young inspector with him.
    Maigret was there in a private capacity.
     He sat at a table in a corner. He hadn’t yet spoken.
    â€˜It looks straightforward enough
     to me,’ ventured the young inspector, who was hoping to earn the approval of
     his chief. ‘Theft wasn’t the motive for the crime. So it was an act of
     revenge. On which member of the crew did Captain Fallut come down hardest when they
     were away at sea?’
    But the chief inspector from Le Havre gave a shrug, and
     the junior inspector turned red and fell silent.
    â€˜Still …’
    â€˜No, no! It’s something
     else. And top of the list is this woman you unearthed for us, Maigret. Did you give
     the boys in uniform all the information they need to find her? Dammit, I can’t
     for the life of me work out what part she played in all this. The boat was at sea
     for three months. She wasn’t there when it docked, because no one has reported
     seeing her get off it. The wireless operator is engaged to be married. By all
     accounts, Captain Fallut didn’t seem the kind of man who’d do anything
     silly. And yet he wrote his will just before he got himself murdered.
    â€˜It would also be interesting to
     know who exactly went to the trouble of delivering the will here,’ sighed
     Maigret. ‘There’s also a reporter – he’s the one who wears a beige
     raincoat – who claims in
L’Éclair de Rouen
that the owners of the
Océan
had sent it to sea to do something other than fish for
     cod.’
    â€˜They always say that, every
     time,’ muttered the Fécamp chief inspector.
    The conversation languished. There was a
     long silence during which the spittle in Maigret’s pipe could be heard
     sizzling. He got stiffly to his feet.
    â€˜If anyone asked me what the
     distinctive feature of this case is,’ he said, ‘I’d say that it
     has the mark of rage on it. Everything to do with the trawler is acrimonious, tense,
     overheated. The crew get drunk and fight in the Grand Banks Café. I bring the
     wireless operator’s fiancée to see him, and he could barely conceal his
     irritation and gave
her a pretty cool
     reception. He almost as good as told her to mind her own business! At Yport, the
     chief mechanic calls his wife all sorts and treats me like some dog he can kick. And
     then I come across two people who seem to have the same mark on them: the girl
     called Adèle, and her boyfriend. They make scenes on the beach, and no sooner do
     they settle their differences than they disappear together …’
    â€˜And what do you make of it
     all?’ asked the chief inspector from Le Havre.
    â€˜Me? I don’t make anything
     of it. I merely remark that I feel as if I’m going round in circles surrounded
     by a lot of mad people … Anyway, I’ll say good night. I’m just an
     observer here. Besides, my wife is expecting me back at the hotel. You’ll let
     me know, chief inspector, if you locate the Yport woman and the man in the grey
     car?’
    â€˜Of course! Good night!’
    Instead of walking through the town,
     Maigret went via the harbour, hands in pocket, pipe between his teeth. The empty
     port was a large black rectangle where the only lights that showed were those of the
Océan
, which was still being unloaded.
    â€˜â€¦ the mark of rage!’ he
     muttered to himself.
    No one paid attention when he