Maigret and the Spinster by Georges Simenon Page B

desperate for money, I sold it, and all I could get for it was thirty francs. Cécile barely got enough to eat, and yet our aunt was a rich woman. And now that she’s dead, I’m the one who’s being made to suffer. You’re the same as all the rest.”
    It was painful to look at him, he was so eaten up with bitterness and resentment.
    “Were you never tempted to kill your aunt?” asked Maigret, so matter-of-factly that it gave the girl a start.
    “If I said ‘yes,’ that would be as good as telling you I strangled her, wouldn’t it? Well, yes, I often wished her dead. Unfortunately, I’m too much of a coward…Well, there it is, you can think what you like. Arrest me, if that’s what you want, it will only be the last of many injustices.”
    Berthe glanced at the little wrist watch she was wearing.
    “Can I be of any further use to you, Chief Superintendent?”
    “Why do you ask?”
    “It is lunchtime. My friend will be waiting for me outside the store.”
    This reference to her lover did not detract from her air of virginal innocence.
    “You have my address: Twenty-two Rue Ordener. I’m nearly always at home in the evenings after seven, except when we go out to see a movie…What are you going to do with Gérard? He always carries on like this. You mustn’t take him too seriously. Are you all right for money, Gérard? Give Hélène a kiss from me. Tell her I’ll drop by and see her tomorrow or the day after. They’ve given me three days off at the store.”
    On her way to the door, she turned and smiled at the two men before going out.
    “And this is what we’ve come down to,” concluded Gérard. “Her boy friend is a married man! If my poor mother…”
    “Tell me, why did Cécile give you this key?”
    “You really want to know? I’ll tell you, but you’re not going to like it. She gave it to me because the police weren’t doing their job! Because, when a poor person goes to them for help, they won’t even listen! Cécile went to see you several times, even you wouldn’t dare deny that. She told you that she was frightened, that there was something going on in this apartment that she didn’t understand. And what did you do? You made fun of her. You sent along an absurd little sergeant a couple of times, who did nothing but pace up and down outside the house. When Cécile, by then convinced beyond any doubt that someone was getting into the sitting room at night, called on you again, she could sense that the whole department was having a good laugh at her expense. So much so that the inspectors took it in relays to go and peer at her in the waiting room.”
    Maigret listened with bowed head.
    “It was then that she had a key cut. She asked me…”
    “Sorry to interrupt! Where did you and your sister use to meet?”
    “In the street! When I needed to see her…”
    “To ask her for money?”
    “Yes! To ask her for money, that’s right. I daresay you’re very pleased with yourself for having found that out! She did, in fact, occasionally slip me a few francs. It was never very much, just what she was able to scrape together, as they say, out of the housekeeping. I used to wait for her at the corner, when I knew she would be going out to do her shopping!…Does that satisfy you? I’m only too happy to oblige!…She gave me the key about ten days ago. She asked me to check on the apartment from time to time at night, to try and find out what was going on…”
    “And did you?”
    “No…I couldn’t, on account of my wife. The doctor feared a premature confinement. I intended to look into it later.”
    “How would you have got into the building?”
    “Cécile had thought of everything. Every evening at seven o’clock, the concierge goes upstairs with the mail. She always stops for a few minutes to chat with the Deséglises. They’re the third-floor tenants in the apartment on the left. All I had to do was to slip in then…”
    “What about your aunt?”
    “Oh, what the hell! I