Liberty Bar by Georges Simenon Page B

Brown?’
    ‘Me?’
    ‘Did you meet him for the first time
     last Tuesday or Wednesday?’
    Joseph looked at him, smiling, as if to
     say: ‘What are you on about?’
    ‘Come on, Ambrosini. I assume you
     will not deny that you are Sylvie’s lover …’
    ‘Depends what you mean by that
     … Something happened …’
    ‘No! No! You are what is
     euphemistically known as her “protector” …’
    Poor Jaja! She had never
     been so unhappy in her life. The alcohol was skewing her view of the situation. Every
     now and again she opened her mouth to try to make some conciliatory remark, and it was
     obvious what she was trying to say: ‘Come on, everyone! Let’s make up! Is it
     really worth all this strife? Let’s all have a drink together and
     …’
    As for Joseph, it was obvious that this
     wasn’t his first run-in with the police. He was guarded. He remained cool,
     didn’t overplay his hand.
    ‘Your information is incorrect
     …’
    ‘And I suppose you don’t know
     anything about these twenty thousand francs?’
    ‘I guess Sylvie must have earned it
     … She’s a good-looking girl …’
    ‘Enough!’
    Maigret was on his feet again. He was
     pacing up and down in the small room. Sylvie was looking at her feet. Joseph, however,
     never lowered his gaze.
    ‘Will you have something?’
     asked Jaja, for whom this was just another opportunity to have a drink.
    Maigret couldn’t quite make his mind
     up. He stood there for a while, in front of the alarm clock, which was showing a quarter
     past six. When he turned round, he said:
    ‘Very well! You two will accompany
     me … I am arresting you!’
    Ambrosini didn’t flinch, but merely
     murmured, with the faintest hint of irony:
    ‘As you wish!’
    The inspector put the twenty
     thousand-franc notes in his pocket and handed Sylvie her hat and bag.
    ‘Do I need to cuff
     you, or will you give me your word …’
    ‘I won’t try to escape.
     Let’s go!’
    Jaja was sobbing in Sylvie’s arms.
     The latter was trying to free herself. They had great trouble preventing the fat woman
     from following the group into the street.
    Lights were coming on. It was that mild
     hour of the day again. They passed near the street where the Hôtel Beauséjour was. But
     Joseph didn’t glance in that direction.
    At the police station the day shift was
     clocking off. The secretary was in a hurry to get Maigret to sign the forms.
    ‘Lock them up separately … I
     will probably come by this evening to see them …’
    Sylvie had sat on a bench at the back of
     the office. Joseph was rolling up a cigarette, which a uniformed officer snatched from
     his hands.
    And Maigret went off without saying a
     word, turning only once towards Sylvie, who wasn’t looking at him. He shrugged and
     muttered:
    ‘Too bad!’
    Wedged into his seat, he didn’t
     even notice that the bus had become crowded and an old woman was standing next to him.
     Turned towards the window, watching the headlights of the cars as they swept past, he
     smoked furiously. The old lady had to bend over and murmur:
    ‘Excuse me, sir …’
    He looked like he was emerging from a
     dream. He jumped to his feet, not knowing where to tip out his burning embers, and was
     in such a kerfuffle that the young couple behind him burst out laughing.
    At seven thirty he went
     in through the revolving door of the Provençal and found Inspector Boutigues sitting in
     an armchair in the lobby, where he was chatting to the manager.
    ‘Well?’
    ‘He’s upstairs …’
     replied Boutigues, who seemed troubled.
    ‘Did you tell him
     …?’
    ‘Yes … He didn’t seem
     surprised … I was expecting more of a protest …’
    The manager lingered a while to ask a
     question, but as soon as he opened his mouth Maigret hurried to the lift.
    ‘Shall I wait for you?’
     Boutigues called after him.
    ‘If you like …’
    He knew well this mental state he had been
     in for the last two or three hours! And he was in