The Grand Banks Café by Georges Simenon Page B

blotches away. His
     eyes were bright, feverish and his lips too red.
    He was wearing an off-the-peg suit with
     three buttons which he’d done up anyhow, not caring about what he looked like.
     His tie was badly knotted.
    Maigret, hands in pockets, walked grimly
     and kept muttering as if for his own benefit:
    â€˜You’ve got to understand
     that I haven’t got time to tell you what you should and should not do, except
     for this: your fiancée is here. She’s a good kid, got a lot of grit. She
     dropped everything and came here all the way from Quimper. She’s moving heaven
     and earth … Maybe it wouldn’t be such a good idea to dash her hopes
     …’
    â€˜Does she know?’
    â€˜There’s no point in talking
     to her about that woman.’
    Maigret never stopped watching him. They
     reached the quays. The brightly coloured fishing boats were picked out by the
     sunshine. The streets nearby were busy.
    There were a few moments when Le Clinche
     seemed to be rediscovering his zest for life, and he looked hopefully at his
     surroundings with optimism. At others, his eyes hardened, and he glared angrily at
     people and things.
    They had to pass close by the
Océan
, now in the final day of unloading. There were still three trucks
     parked opposite the trawler.
    The inspector spoke casually as he
     gestured to various points in space.
    â€˜You were there … Gaston Buzier
     was here … And it was on that spot that the third man strangled the
     captain.’
    Le Clinche breathed deeply, then looked away.
    â€˜Only it was dark, and none of you
     knew who the others were. Anyway, the third man wasn’t the chief mechanic or
     the first mate. They were both with the crew in the Grand Banks Café.’
    The Breton, who was outside on deck,
     spotted the wireless operator, went over to the hatch and leaned his head in. Three
     sailors came out and looked at Le Clinche.
    â€˜Come on,’ said Maigret.
     ‘Marie Léonnec is waiting for us.’
    â€˜I can’t …’
    â€˜What can’t you?’
    â€˜Go there! … Please, leave me
     alone! … What’s it to you if I do kill myself? … Anyway, it would be best for
     all concerned!’
    â€˜Is the secret so heavy to bear,
     Le Clinche?’
    No answer.
    â€˜And you really can’t say
     anything, is that it? Of course you can. One thing: do you still want
     Adèle?’
    â€˜I hate her!’
    â€˜That’s not what I asked. I
     said want, the way you wanted her all the time you were at sea. Just between us men:
     had you had lots of girls before you met Marie Léonnec?’
    â€˜No. Leastways nothing
     serious.’
    â€˜And never deep urges? Wanting a
     woman so much you could weep?’
    â€˜Never!’ he sighed and
     looked away.
    â€˜So it started when you were on
     board ship. There was only one woman, the setting was uncouth, monotonous
… Fragrant flesh in a trawler that stank
     of fish … You were about to say something?’
    â€˜It’s nothing.’
    â€˜You forgot all about the girl you
     were engaged to?’
    â€˜That’s not the same thing
     …’
    Maigret looked him in the eye and was
     astounded by the change that had just come over it. Suddenly the young man had
     acquired a determined tilt to his head, his gaze was steady, and his mouth bitter.
     And yet, for all that, there were traces of nostalgia and fond hopes in his
     expression.
    â€˜Marie Léonnec is a pretty
     girl,’ Maigret went on in pursuit of his line of thought.
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜And much more refined than Adèle.
     Moreover, she loves you. She is ready to make any sacrifice for …’
    â€˜Why don’t you leave it
     alone!’ said the wireless operator angrily. ‘You know very well … that
     …’
    â€˜â€¦ that it’s something else!
     That Marie Léonnec is a good,