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him to Seine-Port to phone around everyone.’
    This was the second time they’d had to alert all the police stations in Seine-et-Oise. The boat reached the far bank. Maigret went into the garden. But what could they do there now? There was nothing to do but phone around and alert the
other stations.
    Maigret bent over to pick up a woman’s handkerchief, embroidered with Madame Basso’s initials. She had pulled it to ribbons as she had nervously waited for James to appear.
    What upset the inspector the most was the thought of all those hours he had whiled away drinking Pernod with the Englishman on the terrace of the Taverne Royale. Now he resented that. He was annoyed that he had let down his guard and allowed
himself to be sucked in.
    â€˜Shall I carry on keeping an eye on the villa?’
    â€˜In case the bricks run off? No, go and find Berger. Then the two of you help with the search. Try and get hold of a motorbike, and bring me hourly updates.’
    On the kitchen table, next to the vegetables, there was an envelope bearing James’s writing:
To be delivered without fail to Madame Basso.
    Obviously the greengrocer had delivered the letter. It told the young woman what was going to happen. That’s why she was nervously patrolling the garden with her son.
    Maigret rowed back to the Two-Penny Bar. He found the group gathered round the vagrant. Someone had given him an aperitif, and the doctor was asking him questions. Victor had the cheek to give the inspector a look as if to say:
    â€˜I’m busy. Leave me alone …’
    And he continued with his explanation:
    â€˜He was an important professor, apparently. They filled my lung with oxygen, right, and then they sealed it like a balloon …’
    The doctor smiled at the way he described it, but nodded to his companions to show that what he was saying was true.
    â€˜Now they have to do the same thing with the half-lung on the other side, because you’ve got two lungs, see, or in my case one and a half.’
    â€˜And you drink alcohol?’
    â€˜Yeah. Cheers.’
    â€˜Do you get cold sweats at night?’
    â€˜Sometimes. When I sleep in draughty barns.’
    â€˜What are you drinking, inspector?’ someone asked. ‘Has something happened that they had to come and fetch you like that?’
    â€˜Tell me, doctor, did James borrow your car this morning?’
    â€˜He asked if he could take it for a spin. He’ll be back soon …’
    â€˜I very much doubt it.’
    The doctor gave a start, then tried to smile as he stammered:
    â€˜You’re joking, of course …’
    â€˜I assure you I’m quite serious. He’s just used it to abduct Madame Basso and her son.’
    â€˜What … James?’ the doctor’s wife asked, unable to believe her ears.
    â€˜Yes, James.’
    â€˜It must have been a joke. He really likes a good hoax.’
    Victor was greatly amused by this. He sipped his drink and looked at Maigret with a sardonic smile.
    The landlord returned from Corbeil in his little pony and trap. As he was unloading the bottles of soda water, he happened to say:
    â€˜What a palaver! You can’t go down the road now without being stopped by the police. Luckily they know who I am.’
    â€˜Was this on the road to Corbeil?’
    â€˜Yes, just a few minutes ago. There are ten of them next to the bridge. They’re stopping cars and asking everyone to show their papers. So there’s a tailback of about thirty cars.’
    Maigret turned away. It was nothing to do with him. It had to be done, but it was an extremely crude and heavy-handed method. And it was a lot for people to put up with two Sundays in a row, in the same
département
,
especially for a small-scale crime that had had very little coverage in the newspapers.
    Had he lost track of the case? Had he been left floundering in the wake of events? Once again the memory of the hours spent drinking