The Hotel Majestic by Georges Simenon Read Free Book Online Page A

. .”
    They heard her talking, probably to a customer. Then the sound of a door being shut.
    â€œListen, Jean dear . . . It’s very important . . . I’ll write and explain . . . No, I don’t think I’d better! It’s too risky . . . I’ll come and see you later, when it’s all over . . . Is Gigi still there? What? Still the same . . . You must be sure to tell her that if anyone questions her about Mimi . . . You remember? . . . Oh no, you weren’t there then . . . Well, if she’s asked anything at all about her . . . Yes! She knows nothing! . . . And she must be particularly careful not to say anything about Prosper . . .”
    â€œProsper who?” asked Jean on the other end of the line.
    â€œNever you mind . . . She doesn’t know anyone called Prosper, do you hear me? . . . Or Mimi . . . Hello! Are you there . . . Is there someone else on the line? . . .”
    Maigret realized that she was scared, that it had perhaps occurred to her that someone was listening to the conversation.
    â€œYou understand, Jean dear? . . . I can rely on you? . . . I’m hanging up because there’s someone . . .”
    Maigret also took off his headphones, and relit his pipe, which had gone out.
    â€œDid you learn what you wanted to know?” asked the supervisor.
    â€œIndeed, yes . . . Get me the Gare de Lyon . . . I must find out what time there’s a train for Cannes . . . Provided I’ve got . . .”
    He looked at his dinner-jacket in irritation. Provided he had time to . . .
    â€œHello! . . . What did you say? . . . Seventeen minutes past four? . . . And I get there at two in the afternoon? . . . Thank you . . .”
    Just time to hurry back to the Boulevard Richard-Lenoir and to laugh at Madame Maigret’s ill humour.
    â€œQuick, my suit . . . A shirt . . . Socks . . .”
    At seventeen minutes past four he was in the Riviera express, sitting opposite a woman who had a horrible pekinese on her lap and who kept looking sideways at Maigret, as though suspecting him of not liking dogs.
    At about the same time, Charlotte was getting into a taxi, as she did each night. The driver dealt mostly with customers from the Pélican and took her home free.
    At five, Prosper Donge heard a car door slamming, the sound of the engine, footsteps, the key in the door.
    But he didn’t hear the usual “Pfffttt” of the gas in the kitchen. Without pausing on the ground floor, Charlotte rushed upstairs and banged the door open, panting: “Prosper! . . . Listen! Don’t pretend to be asleep . . . The superintendent . . .”
    Before she could explain, she had to undo her bra and take off her girdle, so that her stockings were left dangling round her legs.
    â€œLook, it’s serious! Well get up then! . . . Do you think it’s easy talking to a man who just lies there! . . .”

4
    GIGI AND THE CARNIVAL
    For the next three hours, Maigret had the unpleasant feeling that he was floundering in a sort of no man’s land between dream and reality. Perhaps it was his fault? Until after Lyons, as far as about Montélimar, the train had rolled through a tunnel of mist. The woman with the little dog, opposite the superintendent, didn’t budge from her seat, and there were no empty compartments.
    Maigret couldn’t get comfortable. It was too hot. If he opened the window, it was too cold. So he had gone along to the restaurant car and, to cheer himself up, had drunk some of everything—coffee, then brandy and then beer.
    At about eleven, feeling sick, he told himself he’d feel better if he ate something and ordered some ham and eggs, which were no improvement on the rest.
    He was suffering from his sleepless night, the long hours in the train; he was in a very bad temper in fact. After leaving Marseilles, he fell asleep in his corner, with his mouth open, and started awake, stupid with surprise, when he heard Cannes announced.
    There was