Read Online Inspector Cadaver by Georges Simenon - Free Book Online Page A

state of
high agitation:
    ‘I told you something was up. Old
Désiré came on the stroke of eleven. Do you know what he did at the post
office? He sent a postal order for five hundred francs to his son in Morocco … His
son is a bad lot, who up and left one day just like that. When he was here, the old man
and him quarrelled and fought non-stop. Désiré has always been blind drunk as
long as we can remember. His son writes to him now and again, always complaining and
asking for money. But all the money goes on drink, see? The old man never has a sou.
Sometimes, at the start of the month, he sends a postal order for ten or twenty francs
… I wonder … Wait … If you still have some time, we’ll go and
look in at his sister-in-law’s.’
    The inspector was becoming familiar with the
streets and houses he had passed repeatedly since that morning. He recognized the faces
as he went by, the names painted over the shops. Rather than brightening up, the sky was
getting dark again, and the air was growing thick with moisture. The fog hadn’t
rolled in yet but it was on its way.
    ‘His sister-in-law does knitting.
She’s an old girl who was the last priest’s maid. Look, it’s here
…’
    He climbed the three steps
of a porch, knocked and opened a door painted blue.
    ‘Désiré isn’t here, is
he?’
    He immediately waved Maigret over.
    ‘Hi, Désiré …
I’m sorry, Mademoiselle Jeanne. There’s a gentleman from Paris who’d
like to have a quick word with your brother-in-law.’
    The table was laid in a small, very clean
room, near a mahogany bed covered with a huge red eiderdown. There was a sprig of box
tucked into a crucifix, a virgin under a glass dome on the chest of drawers and two
cutlets on a plate with an illustration and a motto.
    Désiré made a move to get up,
before realizing he was in danger of falling off his chair. Maintaining a dignified
stillness instead, he muttered, his tongue so thick that he could hardly articulate the
syllables:
    ‘How can I be of service to
you?’
    He had manners, clearly. That was something
he was keen to stress himself.
    ‘I may have been drinking … Yes,
I may have had a little drink, but the thing about me, sir, is that I am polite.
Everyone will tell you that Désiré is polite to everyone he meets
…’
    ‘Listen, Désiré, the
gentleman needs to know where you found the cap … You know, Albert’s cap
…’
    That was enough. Clouding over with a look
of utter stupor, the drunkard’s face became blank, his watery eyes even more
opaque.
    ‘… don’t know what you
mean …’
    ‘Stop fooling around,
Désiré. Anyway, I’ve got that capmyself. You remember
that evening when you threw it on the table at François’, saying you’d
found it near the dead poplar …’
    The old ham didn’t simply deny it. He
contorted his face into a series of grimaces, throwing himself into his role with far
more gusto than was necessary.
    ‘Understand what he’s going on
about, do you, sir? Why would I have thrown a cap on the table, eh? Never worn a cap in
my life … Jeanne! Where’s my hat? Show the gentleman my hat … Those
kids, they’ve got no respect for age.’
    ‘Désiré …’
    ‘What do you mean,
“Désiré?”? Désiré may be drunk, but he is polite and he
requests that you call him Monsieur Désiré … Understand, you brat, you
bastard?’
    ‘Have you heard from your son?’
Maigret broke in abruptly.
    ‘Well, what about my son? What’s
he done, my son? My son’s a soldier, for a start! He’s a brave man, my
son!’
    ‘That’s what I meant. I’m
sure he’ll be glad to get his postal order.’
    ‘Don’t I have the right to send
my son a postal order now? Hey, Jeanne! Do you hear that? Perhaps I’m not allowed
to come and have a bite with my sister-in-law either?’
    He may have been afraid initially but now he
was enjoying himself. He was overacting with such a will that, when Maigret left, he
staggered after him to the door and would have