Read Online Lock No. 1 by Georges Simenon - Free Book Online Page A

‘carnival’.
    â€˜I just trailed around. I’m
     sick of myself. Does it ever happen to you, to feel sick of yourself?’
    And then he suddenly snatched from the
     table a newspaper which was several days old, got to his feet, stood over Maigret
     and pushed the paper under his nose, using a fingernail to point out a brief
     paragraph.
    â€˜Did you see
     this?’
We have learned that Divisional
     Chief Inspector Maigret, of the Police Judiciaire, although still some way off
     the age limit, has applied for, and been given, early retirement. He will leave
     his post next week and is likely to be replaced by Chief Inspector Ledent.
    â€˜Well?’ said Maigret, rather
     taken aback.
    â€˜So how many days have you got
     left? Six, isn’t it?’
    He did not sit down. He needed to walk.
     He walked up and down, sometimes with his back to the light and sometimes facing the
     window, with his thumbs hooked in the armholes of his waistcoat.
    â€˜I asked you yesterday how much
     the police force paid you, remember? Well today I can tell you this: I know you
     better than you think. As of next week, I am ready to offer you a hundred thousand
     francs a year to come and work for me. Wait before you answer.’
    With an impatient gesture he opened a
     door and beckoned to the inspector to join him. In the light-filled office, a man of
     thirty years of age with already receding hair was sitting in front of a pile of
     files. There was a long cigarette-holder in his mouth. A secretary was ready to take
     dictation.
    â€˜The head of towage,’
     declared Ducrau as the man got hurriedly to his feet.
    The shipping magnate added:
    â€˜Don’t let me disturb you,
     Monsieur Jaspar. (He stressed the
Monsieur
.) But since you’re here,
     tell me again what it
is you do every
     evening. Because, if I’m not mistaken, you are a champion at something or
     other.’
    â€˜Crosswords.’
    â€˜Is that so! Perfect! Did you hear
     that, inspector? Monsieur Jaspar, head of towage, at thirty-two years of age, is a
     crossword champion!’
    He had pronounced each syllable
     separately and on the last he slammed the door shut violently and then stood facing
     Maigret, looking him straight in the eye.
    â€˜Did you see that knuckle-head?
     There are more like him downstairs and up on the next floor, all neatly turned-out,
     respectable, and what is called hard-working. You can be sure that at this very
     moment Monsieur Jaspar is going green at the gills wondering what he can have done
     to get on the wrong side of me. His secretary will spread what happened all round
     the building, and they’ll all spend the next ten days drooling over it like it
     was chocolate. Just because I give them a title like department head they honestly
     believe they’re in charge of something. Cigar?’
    There was a box of Havanas on the
     mantelpiece, but the inspector preferred his pipe, which he filled.
    â€˜I wouldn’t give you a
     title. You’re beginning to get some idea of what my business is about.
     Carriage of freight on the one hand, that is towage, and then the quarries and the
     rest of it. Actually the rest could be built up in all sorts of ways. I’d let
     my staff know that you are to be given a free hand. You’d come and go as and
     when you liked. You’d stick your nose into everything …’
    Once more, Maigret saw in his
     mind’s eye long canals
lined with
     trees, old women in black straw hats and tip-up-trucks making their way towards the
     barges. Ducrau had rung a bell, and a secretary had stepped smartly in, her
     dictation pad at the ready.
    â€˜Take this down.
We the
     undersigned, Émile Ducrau and Maigret
… first name? …
and Maigret,
     Joseph, are in agreement as follows. As of 18 March next, Monsieur Joseph
     Maigret shall become an employee of …’
    He looked at Maigret, frowned then spoke
     sharply to the