The Grand Banks Café by Georges Simenon Page A

contempt. ‘When I take up crime, it
     won’t be with a … a …’
    â€˜All right! Both of you could have
     killed because you were jealous. Both of you had been sleeping with
     Adèle.’
    Buzier said with a sneer:
    â€˜Me jealous! Jealous of
     what?’
    â€˜Have any of you anything further
     to add? You first, Le Clinche.’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Buzier?’
    â€˜I wish to state that I am
     innocent and demand to be released immediately.’
    â€˜And you?’
    Adèle was putting on fresh lipstick.
    â€˜Me …’ – a thick stroke of
     lipstick – ‘… I …’ – a look in her mirror – ‘… I’ve nothing
     to say, not a thing … All men are skunks! You heard that boy there, the one
     I’m supposed to have been prepared to do silly things for … It’s no good
     looking at me like that, Gaston. Now if you want my opinion, there’s things we
     know nothing about in this
business with
     the boat. The minute you found out a woman had been on board, you thought it
     explained everything … But what if there was something else?’
    â€˜Such as?’
    â€˜How should I know? I’m not
     a detective …’
    She crammed her hair under her red straw
     toque. Maigret saw Pierre Le Clinche look away.
    â€˜The two chief inspectors
     exchanged glances. Girard said:
    â€˜Le Clinche will be returned to
     his cell. You two will stay in the waiting room … I’ll let you know whether
     you are free to go or not in a quarter of an hour.’
    The two detectives were left alone. Both
     looked worried.
    â€˜Are you going to ask the
     magistrate to let them go?’ asked Maigret.
    â€˜Yes. I think it’s the best
     thing. They may be mixed up in the killing, but there are other things we may be
     missing …’
    â€˜Right.’
    â€˜Hello, operator? Get me the law
     courts at Le Havre … Hello? … Yes, public prosecutor’s office please
     …’
    A few moments later, while Chief
     Inspector Girard was talking to the magistrate, there was the sound of a disturbance
     outside. Maigret ran to see what was happening and saw Le Clinche on the ground,
     struggling with three uniformed officers.
    He was terrifyingly out of control. His
     eyes were bloodshot and looked wild and staring. Spittle drooled from his mouth. But
     he was being held down now and couldn’t move.
    â€˜What happened?’
    â€˜We hadn’t ’cuffed
     him, seeing as how he was always so quiet … Anyway, as we were moving him down the
     corridor, he made a grab for the gun in my belt … He got it … was going to use it to
     kill himself … I stopped him firing it.’
    Le Clinche lay on the floor, staring at
     the ceiling. His teeth were digging into the flesh of his lips, reddening his saliva
     with blood.
    But most disturbing were the tears which
     streamed down his leaden cheeks.
    â€˜Maybe get the doctor
     …?’
    â€˜No! Let him go!’ barked
     Maigret.
    When the prisoner was alone on his back
     on the stone floor:
    â€˜On your feet! … Look sharp now! …
     Get a move on! … And no antics … otherwise you’ll feel the back of my hand
     across your face, you miserable little brat!’
    The wireless operator did what he was
     told, unresistingly, fearfully. His whole body trembled with the aftershock. In
     falling he had dirtied his clothes.
    â€˜How does your girlfriend fit into
     that little display?’
    Chief Inspector Girard appeared:
    â€˜He agreed,’ he said.
     ‘All three are free to go, but they mustn’t leave Fécamp … What happened
     here?’
    â€˜This moron tried to kill himself!
     If it’s all right with you, I’ll look after him.’
    The two of them were walking along the
     quays together. Le Clinche had splashed water over his face. It had not
washed the crimson