attic room.
5.
It was shortly before nine oâclock
the following morning when Maigret arrived at the Police Judiciaire to be told by
the office boy that there had already been a phone call for him.
âThey gave no name but said
theyâd call back.â
On top of the pile of mail was a duty
report.
The assistant lock-keeper at
Charenton was found dead this morning, hanging by the neck from the upper sluice
gate.
Maigret did not even have time to be
shocked, for the phone was already ringing. He picked up the receiver irritably and
was very surprised when he recognized the voice at the other end of the line, which
spoke simply, with deference and even a hint of unexpected diffidence.
âHello? Is that you, inspector?
Itâs Ducrau. Would you be so good as to come to see me here? Iâd come to
you, but it wouldnât be the same ⦠Are you still there? ⦠Iâm not at
Charenton. Iâm at the office, 33 Quai des Célestins ⦠Youâre coming? â¦
Iâm most obliged.â
Every morning for the last ten days, the
same sun had shone with the tart aftertaste of gooseberries. There was
a stronger smell of springtime in the air
along the Seine than elsewhere, and when Maigret reached Quai des Célestins he cast
an envious glance at a student and several elderly gentlemen who were rummaging
through the dusty boxes of the booksellers.
Number 33 was a building on three
floors, already old. Fixed to the door were several brass plates. The interior had
the typical feel of those small town-houses which have been converted into offices.
There were notices on the doors:
Cashier
,
Office
and so on.
Directly in front of the inspector was a staircase which led up to the first floor,
and it was at the top of it that Ducrau appeared as Maigret was looking round for
someone to ask.
âWould you come this
way?â
He took his visitor into a drawing room
which had become an office. It had retained its moulded ceiling, the large mirrors
and gilt decoration, but it all had an old-fashioned look and clashed with the plain
deal furniture.
âDid you read the brass
plates?â asked Ducrau, motioning Maigret to a chair. âDownstairs is the
Marne Quarry Company. Here itâs towing, and upstairs handles river and canal
transportation. Thatâs what the name Ducrau is all about!â
But he said it without pride, as if this
information was no longer of importance. He was sitting with his back to the light
and Maigret noticed that he was wearing a black armband on one sleeve of his heavy
blue jacket. He had not shaved, with the result that his cheeks looked flabbier.
He sat for a
moment without speaking, fiddling with his pipe, which had gone out. It was at this
point that Maigret realized that there were in fact two distinct Ducraus, one who
boasted, even to himself, talked loudly and puffed his chest out in an endless
theatrical display, and another who would suddenly forget to watch himself and was a
quite shy, awkward man.
But he obviously found it difficult to
be that Ducrau! He had a pressing need to stay a notch above ordinary reality.
Already his eyes had that spark in them which heralded a new burst of
play-acting.
âI come to the office as little as
possible. There are enough minions to get through the work thatâs done here.
This morning, I just didnât know where else to hide.â
He felt irritated by Maigretâs
silence and passivity because, to play his part, he needed the reactions of others
to respond to.
âKnow where I spent last night? In
a hotel in Rue de Rivoli! Because they all descended on the house: the wifeâs
elderly mother, my daughter, her moronic husband, not to mention the neighbours!
They turned it into a funereal carnival, so I decided to make myself
scarce!â
He meant it. Even so, he was pleased
with the word
5.
It was shortly before nine oâclock
the following morning when Maigret arrived at the Police Judiciaire to be told by
the office boy that there had already been a phone call for him.
âThey gave no name but said
theyâd call back.â
On top of the pile of mail was a duty
report.
The assistant lock-keeper at
Charenton was found dead this morning, hanging by the neck from the upper sluice
gate.
Maigret did not even have time to be
shocked, for the phone was already ringing. He picked up the receiver irritably and
was very surprised when he recognized the voice at the other end of the line, which
spoke simply, with deference and even a hint of unexpected diffidence.
âHello? Is that you, inspector?
Itâs Ducrau. Would you be so good as to come to see me here? Iâd come to
you, but it wouldnât be the same ⦠Are you still there? ⦠Iâm not at
Charenton. Iâm at the office, 33 Quai des Célestins ⦠Youâre coming? â¦
Iâm most obliged.â
Every morning for the last ten days, the
same sun had shone with the tart aftertaste of gooseberries. There was
a stronger smell of springtime in the air
along the Seine than elsewhere, and when Maigret reached Quai des Célestins he cast
an envious glance at a student and several elderly gentlemen who were rummaging
through the dusty boxes of the booksellers.
Number 33 was a building on three
floors, already old. Fixed to the door were several brass plates. The interior had
the typical feel of those small town-houses which have been converted into offices.
There were notices on the doors:
Cashier
,
Office
and so on.
Directly in front of the inspector was a staircase which led up to the first floor,
and it was at the top of it that Ducrau appeared as Maigret was looking round for
someone to ask.
âWould you come this
way?â
He took his visitor into a drawing room
which had become an office. It had retained its moulded ceiling, the large mirrors
and gilt decoration, but it all had an old-fashioned look and clashed with the plain
deal furniture.
âDid you read the brass
plates?â asked Ducrau, motioning Maigret to a chair. âDownstairs is the
Marne Quarry Company. Here itâs towing, and upstairs handles river and canal
transportation. Thatâs what the name Ducrau is all about!â
But he said it without pride, as if this
information was no longer of importance. He was sitting with his back to the light
and Maigret noticed that he was wearing a black armband on one sleeve of his heavy
blue jacket. He had not shaved, with the result that his cheeks looked flabbier.
He sat for a
moment without speaking, fiddling with his pipe, which had gone out. It was at this
point that Maigret realized that there were in fact two distinct Ducraus, one who
boasted, even to himself, talked loudly and puffed his chest out in an endless
theatrical display, and another who would suddenly forget to watch himself and was a
quite shy, awkward man.
But he obviously found it difficult to
be that Ducrau! He had a pressing need to stay a notch above ordinary reality.
Already his eyes had that spark in them which heralded a new burst of
play-acting.
âI come to the office as little as
possible. There are enough minions to get through the work thatâs done here.
This morning, I just didnât know where else to hide.â
He felt irritated by Maigretâs
silence and passivity because, to play his part, he needed the reactions of others
to respond to.
âKnow where I spent last night? In
a hotel in Rue de Rivoli! Because they all descended on the house: the wifeâs
elderly mother, my daughter, her moronic husband, not to mention the neighbours!
They turned it into a funereal carnival, so I decided to make myself
scarce!â
He meant it. Even so, he was pleased
with the word
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