Maigret Read Online Free Page B

that was all they wanted from me and I got dressed again. But I did
     laugh. There was a bug on the pillow between two of their heads, and I can still
     hear the voice of one of the boys saying, as if in a dream: “There’s a
     bug in front of my face!” “And mine!” sighed the other one. And
     they didn’t budge. They were both squinting.’
    She downed her drink in one go, and
     decreed:
    ‘Barmy!’
    All the same, she was starting to grow
     anxious.
    ‘You’re keeping me for the
     night, aren’t you?’
    ‘Of course! Of
     course!’ replied Maigret.
    There was a curtain dividing the bar
     from the lobby where the cloakroom was. From his seat, Maigret could see through the
     slit in the curtain. Suddenly he jumped down from his stool and took a few steps. A
     man had just walked in, and said to the cloakroom attendant:
    ‘Nothing new?’
    ‘Good evening, Monsieur
     Cageot!’
    It was Maigret speaking, his hands in
     his jacket pockets, his pipe in his mouth. The man he was addressing, who had his
     back to him, slowly turned around, looked him up and down, and grunted:
    ‘So you’re here!’
    The red curtain and the music were
     behind them, and in front of them the door opened on to the cold street where the
     doorman was pacing up and down. Cageot was reluctant to take off his overcoat.
    Fernande, feeling uneasy, poked her nose
     out, but withdrew immediately.
    ‘Will you have a drink?’
    Cageot had finally made up his mind and
     handed his overcoat to the cloakroom attendant, watching Maigret all the while.
    ‘If you like,’ he
     agreed.
    The head waiter hurried over to show
     them to a free table. Without looking at the wine list, the newcomer muttered:
    ‘Mumm 26!’
    He was not in evening dress, but was
     wearing a dark-grey suit as ill-fitting as Maigret’s. He was
     not even freshly shaven and a greyish stubble ate into his cheeks.
    ‘I thought you’d
     retired?’
    ‘So did I!’
    This seemed pretty innocuous, yet Cageot
     frowned, and signalled to the girl selling cigars and cigarettes. Fernande sat at
     the bar, wide-eyed. And young Albert, who was playing the part of the owner,
     wondered whether or not he should go over to them.
    ‘Cigar?’
    ‘No thank you,’ said
     Maigret, emptying his pipe.
    ‘Are you in Paris for
     long?’
    ‘Until Pepito’s killer is
     behind bars.’
    They did not raise their voices. Next to
     them, high-spirited men in dinner-jackets were pelting each other with cotton-wool
     balls and throwing paper streamers. The saxophonist wandered solemnly from table to
     table playing his instrument.
    ‘Have they called you back to
     investigate this case?’
    Germain Cageot had a long, lifeless face
     and bushy eyebrows the colour of grey mould. He was the last man one would expect to
     meet in a place where people go to have fun. He spoke slowly, frostily, gauging the
     effect of each word.
    ‘I came of my own accord,’
     Maigret replied.
    ‘Are you working for
     yourself?’
    ‘One could say that.’
    It seemed unimportant. Fernande herself
     must have been thinking that it was pure chance that her companion knew Cageot.
    ‘How long ago
     did you buy the place?’
    ‘The Floria? You’re
     mistaken. It belongs to Albert.’
    ‘As it did Pepito.’
    Cageot did not deny it, but merely
     smiled mirthlessly and stopped the waiter who was about to pour him some
     champagne.
    ‘What else?’ he asked in the
     tone of someone casting around for a topic of conversation.
    ‘What’s your
     alibi?’
    Cageot gave another smile, even more
     neutral, and reeled off without batting an eyelid:
    ‘I went to bed at nine as I had a
     touch of flu. The concierge brought me up a hot toddy and gave it to me in
     bed.’
    Neither of them paid any attention to
     the hubbub that surrounded them like a wall. They were used to it. Maigret smoked
     his pipe, and Cageot a cigar.
    ‘Still drinking Pougues mineral
     water?’ asked the former chief inspector as Cageot poured him a