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Authors: Georges Simenon
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absolutely sure the man would never speak again.
‘They had to work fast,’ he grumbled, looking at
O’Brien with a bitterness he could not hide.
‘It doesn’t take long to organize that kind of
accident when one already knows all the vital details. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that there
are agencies that handle that sort of job, but it’s almost as if there were. In short, it’s
enough to know whom to contact, to gain their trust, agree on a price … and pay it, you
understand? They’re what are called killers for hire. Only, the killers couldn’t have known that
old Angelino would cross 169th Street every morning at the same time, at the same place
…’
‘Someone must have told them; in theory, the one
who ordered the hit …’
‘And that person must have known these details for a long time.’
They looked solemnly at each other, for they were
both drawing the same conclusions from what had happened.
Someone, for an undetermined length of time, had
known that Angelino had something to say, something that threatened his quiet existence.
Maigret could not help thinking of the wiry but
almost slight figure of Little John, with his pale, cold eyes devoid of the least flicker of
humanity.
Was he not precisely the man capable of hiring
killers, without batting an eye, to carry out the assignment they had completed this
morning?
And Little John had lived at 169th Street, right
across from the tailor’s shop!
What’s more, if you were to believe his letters
to his son – and they had the troubling ring of truth – it was Little John who felt threatened,
who no doubt feared for his life!
And it was his son who had disappeared before
setting foot on American soil!
‘They kill,’ said Maigret after a long silence,
as if that were the sum of his thoughts.
And that is just about what it was. Moments
before, he had mentioned Jean Maura and, now that he knew he was dealing with people capable of
murder, he felt remorseful.
Shouldn’t he have kept a closer guard on the
young man who had asked for his help?
Shouldn’t he have taken the boy’s fears much more
seriously, no matter what Monsieur d’Hoquélus had said?
‘In short,’ announced the red-headed FBI agent,
‘we’re
facing people who are defending themselves,
or, more precisely, who attack in their own defence. And I wonder, my dear Maigret, what you’ll
be able to do. The New York police will have no desire to see you get involved in their
investigation … By what authority, anyway? The crime has been committed on American soil.
Angelino has been an American citizen for a long time. As have the murderers, no doubt. Maura is
a naturalized citizen … I checked: MacGill was born in New York. Anyway, you won’t find
those two mixed up in this business. As for young Maura … No one has filed a complaint,
and his father doesn’t seem eager to do so.’
He stood up with a sigh.
‘That’s all I can tell you.’
‘Do you know that my bulldog wasn’t at his post
this morning?’
O’Brien knew he meant Bill.
‘You hadn’t mentioned that, but I would have bet
on it … Between last night and this morning, someone had to have been informed of your
visit to 169th Street, right?’
‘… So that from then on I could go back
there without any danger to anyone.’
‘You know, if I were you, I’d be extra careful
about crossing the street … And while I was at it, I’d avoid deserted places, particularly
in the evening … Running people over isn’t always necessary … It’s easy enough to
blast them with a machine gun as you drive by.’
‘I thought gangsters existed only in pulp novels
and films. Isn’t that what you told me?’
‘I’m not talking about gangsters. I’m giving you
some
advice. By the way, what have you done with my
melancholy clown?’
‘I put him to work, and he’s supposed to call me
or come to see me at the Berwick today.’
‘Unless he has an accident, too.’
‘You think so?’
‘I
‘They had to work fast,’ he grumbled, looking at
O’Brien with a bitterness he could not hide.
‘It doesn’t take long to organize that kind of
accident when one already knows all the vital details. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that there
are agencies that handle that sort of job, but it’s almost as if there were. In short, it’s
enough to know whom to contact, to gain their trust, agree on a price … and pay it, you
understand? They’re what are called killers for hire. Only, the killers couldn’t have known that
old Angelino would cross 169th Street every morning at the same time, at the same place
…’
‘Someone must have told them; in theory, the one
who ordered the hit …’
‘And that person must have known these details for a long time.’
They looked solemnly at each other, for they were
both drawing the same conclusions from what had happened.
Someone, for an undetermined length of time, had
known that Angelino had something to say, something that threatened his quiet existence.
Maigret could not help thinking of the wiry but
almost slight figure of Little John, with his pale, cold eyes devoid of the least flicker of
humanity.
Was he not precisely the man capable of hiring
killers, without batting an eye, to carry out the assignment they had completed this
morning?
And Little John had lived at 169th Street, right
across from the tailor’s shop!
What’s more, if you were to believe his letters
to his son – and they had the troubling ring of truth – it was Little John who felt threatened,
who no doubt feared for his life!
And it was his son who had disappeared before
setting foot on American soil!
‘They kill,’ said Maigret after a long silence,
as if that were the sum of his thoughts.
And that is just about what it was. Moments
before, he had mentioned Jean Maura and, now that he knew he was dealing with people capable of
murder, he felt remorseful.
Shouldn’t he have kept a closer guard on the
young man who had asked for his help?
Shouldn’t he have taken the boy’s fears much more
seriously, no matter what Monsieur d’Hoquélus had said?
‘In short,’ announced the red-headed FBI agent,
‘we’re
facing people who are defending themselves,
or, more precisely, who attack in their own defence. And I wonder, my dear Maigret, what you’ll
be able to do. The New York police will have no desire to see you get involved in their
investigation … By what authority, anyway? The crime has been committed on American soil.
Angelino has been an American citizen for a long time. As have the murderers, no doubt. Maura is
a naturalized citizen … I checked: MacGill was born in New York. Anyway, you won’t find
those two mixed up in this business. As for young Maura … No one has filed a complaint,
and his father doesn’t seem eager to do so.’
He stood up with a sigh.
‘That’s all I can tell you.’
‘Do you know that my bulldog wasn’t at his post
this morning?’
O’Brien knew he meant Bill.
‘You hadn’t mentioned that, but I would have bet
on it … Between last night and this morning, someone had to have been informed of your
visit to 169th Street, right?’
‘… So that from then on I could go back
there without any danger to anyone.’
‘You know, if I were you, I’d be extra careful
about crossing the street … And while I was at it, I’d avoid deserted places, particularly
in the evening … Running people over isn’t always necessary … It’s easy enough to
blast them with a machine gun as you drive by.’
‘I thought gangsters existed only in pulp novels
and films. Isn’t that what you told me?’
‘I’m not talking about gangsters. I’m giving you
some
advice. By the way, what have you done with my
melancholy clown?’
‘I put him to work, and he’s supposed to call me
or come to see me at the Berwick today.’
‘Unless he has an accident, too.’
‘You think so?’
‘I
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