The Misty Harbour by Georges Simenon Page B

same, there was tension in the
     air, and even fear – and not just in the air, for there was almost panic in the
     mayor’s eyes.
    And the smile on Big Louis’ face
     was one of brutish satisfaction.
    ‘I’ll wait for you
     outside,’ the inspector told him.
    But the reply he received was from the
     mayor.
    ‘It was nice seeing you, Detective
     Chief Inspector Maigret.’
    The inspector left
     the study. Hurrying from the kitchen, the maid sullenly showed him to the front door
     without a word and closed it behind him.
    The road was deserted. In the window of
     a house a hundred metres away, Maigret saw a light; there were a few others, but at
     long intervals, for the villas on the Riva-Bella road are surrounded by extensive
     gardens.
    Hands in his pockets, hunched over,
     Maigret walked to the front gate and looked out over empty ground, since all that
     part of Ouistreham runs alongside the dunes. Beyond the gardens lie only sand and
     beach grass.
    A form in the darkness; a
     voice …
    ‘That you, inspector?’
    ‘Lucas?’
    They quickly drew together.
    ‘What are you doing
     here?’
    Without taking his eyes from the
     villa’s grounds, the sergeant whispered, ‘The man from the
     dredger …’
    ‘He came out?’
    ‘He’s here!’
    ‘Has he been here long?’
    ‘Barely fifteen
     minutes … Right behind the house.’
    ‘Came in over the
     fence?’
    ‘No. It looks as if he’s
     waiting for someone. I heard your footsteps, so I came to check.’
    ‘Show me where.’
    They went around the garden to the back
     of the villa, where Lucas swore softly.
    ‘What’s the
     matter?’
    ‘He’s gone.’
    ‘You’re sure?’
    ‘He was over by the clump of
     tamarisks.’
    ‘You think he went
     inside?’
    ‘No idea.’
    ‘Stay here. No matter what
     happens.’
    Maigret ran back to the road. No
     one … A ray of light showed at the study window, but the sill was out of
     reach.
    He hurried back through the garden to
     ring at the door. The maid opened it almost immediately.
    ‘I think I left my pipe in the
     study.’
    ‘I will go and see.’
    She left him on the threshold, but as
     soon as she had gone he went quietly to the study door and peeked in.
    The mayor was still in his chair with
     his legs propped up. A small table had been set next to him. And on the other side
     of it sat Big Louis.
    They were playing draughts.
    The ex-con moved a piece and barked,
     ‘Your turn!’
    The mayor, looking up in exasperation at
     the maid still hunting for the pipe, exclaimed, ‘You can see for yourself that
     it’s not here! Tell the inspector he must have left it somewhere else. Your
     move, Louis.’
    Perfectly at home, Louis called after
     her, ‘And then bring us something to drink, Marguerite!’

7. Orchestrating
     Events
    When Maigret left the villa, Lucas could
     tell there was trouble coming. The inspector was ready to explode, with staring eyes
     that seemed to see nothing.
    ‘Didn’t find him?’
    ‘I don’t think it’s
     even worth looking for him. We’d need too many men to hunt down someone hiding
     in the dunes.’
    His overcoat buttoned all the way up,
     Maigret thrust his hands into his pockets and chewed the stem of his pipe.
    ‘See that gap between the
     curtains?’ he said, pointing to the study window. ‘And that low wall,
     right in front? Well, once you’re standing on the wall, I think you could see
     into the room.’
    Lucas was almost as big as his boss, but
     not as tall. He hoisted himself on to the wall with a sigh, checking both ways along
     the road to make sure no one was coming.
    The wind had picked up at sundown, a sea
     wind that strengthened with each passing minute and shook the trees.
    ‘Anything?’
    ‘I’m not up high enough.
     Fifteen or twenty centimetres short.’
    Maigret walked over to a heap of stones
     by the road and brought back a few.
    ‘Try these.’
    ‘I can see
     the edge of the table, but not the people.’
    And the inspector