The Misty Harbour by Georges Simenon Page A

went waxed indignant to regain the
     upper hand.
    ‘
Monsieur Maigret
,’
     he began.
    And it was a thing of beauty, the way he
     said those first two words!
    ‘
Monsieur
     Maigret
 … I take the liberty of reminding you that, as mayor of this
     town—’
    So placidly that the mayor could only
     stare at him, the inspector rose and walked to a door that he opened as casually as
     you please.
    ‘Do come in, Louis! It’s
     irritating to watch a door that can’t stop shaking and to hear you breathing
     behind it.’
    Maigret must have been disappointed if
     he had hoped to create a dramatic scene: Big Louis did as he was told. He came into
     the study with his head and shoulders awry, as usual, and stood looking at the floor
     like both a simple sailor overawed by the villa of a local magnate and a man
     suddenly finding himself in a difficult stuation.
    As for the mayor, he was puffing heavily
     on his cigar and staring straight ahead.
    Daylight was almost gone from the study.
     A gas lamp outside was already lit.
    ‘May I turn on the light?’
     asked Maigret.
    ‘Just a minute … Close
     the curtains, first. There’s no need for people going by
     to … That’s it, the cord on the left, pull it slowly.’
    Big Louis remained standing motionless
     in the middle
of the study. Maigret
     switched the light on, walked over to the slow-combustion stove and automatically
     began to poke the fire.
    It was a great habit of his. As was the
     way he would stand in front of a fire with his hands clasped behind him, toasting
     his back, when he was absorbed in reflection.
    Had the situation changed? Be that as it
     may, there was a glint of mockery in the look Monsieur Grandmaison gave the
     inspector, who was thinking hard.
    ‘Was Big Louis here when
     you … had your accident?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Too bad! That’s how you
     might have, for example, in tumbling down the stairs, landed on his bare
     fist …’
    ‘And it would have allowed you to
     stir up anxiety in the little harbour cafés, by telling fanciful tales. Best wrap
     this business up, don’t you think, inspector? There are two of
     us … We are both working on this case. You come here from
     Paris … You’ve brought with you Captain Joris, in a pitiful state,
     and all the evidence indicates that it was not in Ouistreham that he met with such
     injury … You were here when he was killed …You go about your inquiry
     in your own way.’
    The man’s voice was positively
     cutting.
    ‘As for me, I have been the mayor
     here for ten years. I know my constituents. I consider myself responsible for their
     well-being. As mayor I am also the local chief of police. Well …’
    When he paused to take a long puff on
     his cigar, the ash dropped off and crumbled over his dressing gown.
    ‘While you’ve been
     patronizing the harbour bistros, I, too, have been busy with this case, if you
     please!’
    ‘And you
     summoned Big Louis.’
    ‘As I will summon others if I see
     fit. And now, I suppose that you have nothing more of importance to tell
     me?’
    He rose, a trifle stiffly, to see his
     visitor to the door.
    ‘I trust,’ murmured Maigret,
     ‘that you will have no objection if Louis comes with me? I already questioned
     him last night, but there are a few more things I’d like to ask
     him.’
    Monsieur Grandmaison gestured
     dismissively by way of reply. It was Big Louis who stayed right where he was,
     staring at the floor as if nailed to it.
    ‘Are you coming?’
    ‘Nah! Not right now.’
    It was more grunting than speaking, like
     everything Julie’s brother said.
    ‘Let me point out,’ observed
     the mayor, ‘that I have no objection at all to his going with you! I insist
     that you take note of this, so that you will not accuse me of trying to stymie your
     investigation. I sent for Big Louis to inquire about certain matters. If he prefers
     to stay, it’s probably because he has something else to tell me.’
    All the