Maigret Read Online Free

magistrate, Gastambide, a stocky Basque who was
     meticulous and contemptuous, who weighed up his words, spent several minutes
     formulating his sentences then letting them drop as if to declare:
    ‘What can you say to
     that?’
    And Maigret was familiar with that
     corridor, filled with defendants under police guard, the benches crammed with
     restless witnesses, women in tears. If Philippe had been made to wait, it was
     deliberate.
    ‘The magistrate told me not to
     deal with any cases, to take no action before the end of the investigation. I am to
     consider myself suspended from duty and I must remain at his disposal.’
    It was aperitif hour, the noisiest time
     at the Chope du Pont-Neuf. All the tables were full. The air was thick with pipe and
     cigarette smoke. From time to time, a newcomer greeted Maigret from across the
     room.
    Philippe did not dare look at anyone,
     not even his companion.
    ‘I’m very sorry,
     Uncle.’
    ‘What else has
     happened?’
    ‘Everyone thought, naturally, that
     the Floria would be closed, at least for a few days. But it isn’t going to be.
     Today, there was a series of phone calls, some baffling developments. Apparently,
     the Floria was sold two days ago andPepito was no longer the
     owner. The buyer has friends in high places and tonight the joint will be open for
     business as usual.’
    Maigret frowned. Was it because of what
     he had just heard, or because Detective Chief Inspector Amadieu had just walked in
     with a colleague and sat down at the other end of the room?
    ‘Godet!’ Maigret
     shouted.
    Godet was an inspector from the vice
     squad who was playing cards three tables away. He turned round, cards in hand,
     unsure whether to get up.
    ‘When you’ve finished your
     game!’
    And Maigret screwed up all his scraps of
     paper and threw them on to the floor. He downed his beer in one gulp and wiped his
     mouth, looking over in Amadieu’s direction.
    Amadieu had heard him. He watched the
     scene from a distance as he poured water into his Pernod. Intrigued, Godet finally
     went over to Maigret’s table.
    ‘Did you want to speak to me,
     sir?’
    ‘Hello, old friend!’ said
     Maigret, shaking his hand. ‘A simple piece of information. Are you still with
     the Vice? Good. Can you tell me whether Cageot showed his face at HQ this
     morning?’
    ‘Hold on. I think he came into the
     office at around eleven.’
    ‘Thank you, my friend.’
    That was all! Maigret looked at Amadieu.
     Amadieu looked at Maigret. And now it was Amadieu who was uncomfortable and Maigret
     was the one suppressing a smile.
    Philippe did not dare
     speak. The case had just moved up a rung. The game was being played over his head
     and he didn’t even know the rules.
    ‘Godet!’ bawled a voice.
    This time, all the police officers in
     the room shuddered as they watched the inspector get up again, still holding his
     cards, and walk over to Chief Inspector Amadieu.
    There was no need to hear what was said.
     It was clear that Amadieu wanted to know:
    ‘What did he ask you?’
    ‘Whether I’d seen Cageot
     this morning.’
    Maigret lit his pipe, let the match burn
     down to the very end and finally rose, calling:
    ‘Waiter!’
    Drawn up to his full height, he waited
     for his change, glancing casually around the room.
    ‘Where are we going?’ asked
     Philippe once they were outside.
    Maigret turned to him, as if surprised
     to see him there.
    ‘You’re going to bed,’
     he said.
    ‘What about you, Uncle?’
    Maigret shrugged, thrust his hands in
     his pockets and walked off without answering. He had just spent one of the most
     unpleasant days of his life. Hours on end stuck in his corner. He had felt old and
     feeble, with no energy, no inspiration.
    Then the shift happened. A little flame
     shot up. But he had to take advantage of it right away.
    ‘We’ll see, damn it!’
     he grunted to boost his spirits.
    Normally, at this hour, he would be
     reading hisnewspaper under