Félicie (3 page)

He rejoins Maigret, who is walking by himself
behind the family along the lane which leads from Orgeval to Jeanneville.

‘She's gone …'

‘What?'

‘She must have got into
the van as it was setting off. I just had time to see it disappear round the corner. I phoned
Quai des Orfèvres. They are alerting all divisions. They'll watch the main roads into
Paris.'

So, Félicie has gone! Simply, in the full
light of day, under the eyes and noses so to speak of Maigret and his best sergeant! Vanished,
despite that enormous mourning veil which would make her recognizable from a kilometre away!

Members of the family who turn round from time to
time to look back at the two policemen are amazed to see no trace of Félicie. She has taken
the front-door key with her. They have to get into the house by going through the garden.
Maigret raises the blinds in the dining room, where the bed sheet and the sprig of box are still
on the table and an after-smell of candle hangs in the air.

‘I could do with a drink,' sighs
Ernest Lapie. ‘Étienne! Julie! Stop running across those flower beds! There must be
some wine here somewhere.'

‘In the wine store,' Maigret tells
him.

Lapie's wife walks round to
Mélanie's to buy cakes for the children and, since she's there, decides to
bring some back for everybody.

‘There's no reason, inspector, why my
brother should have made a will. I know he was a strange character. He kept himself to himself
and we didn't have much to do with him any more. But that doesn't mean
…'

Maigret rummages through the drawers of a small
desk in one corner of the room. From it he takes out bundles of old bills, carefully classified,
and then an old note-case
with a grey bloom on it which contains a single
brown envelope.

To be opened after my death

‘Well, gentlemen, I think this is what
we're looking for.'

I, the undersigned, Jules Lapie, being of sound
mind and body, in the presence of Ernest Forrentin and François Lepape, both residing in
Jeanneville in the commune of Orgeval …

Maigret reads in a voice which grows
increasingly solemn.

‘So Félicie was right!' he said
finally. ‘She inherits the house and all its contents.'

The family are all dumbstruck. The will contains
one brief phrase which they are unlikely to forget:

Given the attitude which my brother and his
wife chose to adopt after my accident …

‘I only told him that it was ridiculous to
go stirring heaven and earth just because …' comments Ernest Lapie.

Given the conduct of my nephew, Jacques
Pétillon …

The young man who has come from Paris looks like
the class dunce on speech-day.

None of it matters. Félicie has inherited
everything. And Félicie, God only know why, has disappeared.

Maigret, his hands thrust in his trouser
pockets, has halted in the hall in front of the bamboo coat stand in the middle of which is a
mirror shaped like a diamond. He peers into it and sees a face that would normally make most
people laugh, for it looks like the face of a child who wants something but is too shy to ask
for it. But Maigret is not laughing. He reaches out, takes the broad-brimmed straw hat which is
hanging on one of the hooks and puts it on.

Well! Old Pegleg's head was even bigger
than that of the inspector, who regularly has to trail round several hat shops before finding
one to fit him. It sets him thinking. With the straw hat still on his head, he returns to the
dining room to take another look at the photo of Jules Lapie that was found in the drawer.

Once, when a foreign criminologist was asking the
commissioner of the Police Judiciaire about Maigret's working methods, he replied with an
enigmatic smile:

‘Maigret? What can I say? He just settles
into an investigation the way a man gets into a pair of slippers.'

Today, it is almost the case that the inspector
gets into, if not the victim's slippers, then at least his clogs. For there they are, just
by the door, on the right, in a place which is quite clearly theirs. In fact everything is in
its place. If it
wasn't for the fact that Félicie was not there,
Maigret might well think that life in the house is going on just as it did in the past, that he
is Lapie, that he will now walk at his own slow pace towards the vegetable patch to finish
pricking out the row of tomato seedlings.

The sun is setting in splendour behind the
light-coloured houses that can be seen from the garden. Ernest Lapie, the dead man's
brother, has declared that he intends to spend the night at Poissy and has sent the rest of the
family back to Fécamp. The others – the neighbours and a few farm-workers from
Orgeval who followed the hearse – must either have gone home or else are in the Anneau
d'Or, having a drink.

Sergeant Lucas is there too, because Maigret has
told him to take his travel bag there and stay in touch with Paris by phone.

Pegleg had a large head, a square face, grey
eyebrows and grey whiskers all over his face which he shaved just once a week. He was mean with
money. You only had to cast an eye over his accounts. It was obvious that for him every sou
counted. Had his brother not admitted it?

‘Of course, he was very
near
…'

And when one Norman says of another Norman that
he is
near …

The weather is mild. The sky is changing
perceptibly to purple. Cool breezes blow in from the fields, and Maigret catches himself, pipe
in mouth, standing there with a slight stoop, the way Lapie used to stand. It even gets to the
point where, as he makes his way to the wine store, he drags his left leg. He turns the spigot
on the barrel of rosé, rinses
the glass and fills it … At this
time of day, Félicie would normally be in the kitchen and probably the smell of her ragout
would have floated out into the garden. It is watering time too. People can be seen watering in
the gardens round about. Dusk invades the Cape Horn, where, when the old man was alive, the
lights would not be turned on until the very last minute.

Why was he killed? Maigret cannot help thinking
that one day he will himself be retired. He too will have a small house in the country, a
garden, a large straw hat …

Pegleg would not have been killed in the course
of a burglary because, according to his brother, he had virtually no assets outside his famous
settlement. A savings pass-book had been found, plus two thousand francs in notes in an envelope
and a few municipal bonds issued by the City of Paris. They had also found his gold watch.

Right, that means looking elsewhere. Maigret will
have to dig himself deeper under the man's skin. He is surly, churlish, taciturn and
finicky. He is a loner. The slightest disturbance to his routine certainly makes him angry. He
has never thought of marriage, of children, and there is no evidence that he was a
philanderer.

What was Félicie trying to imply? It was out
of the question! Félicie was lying! Lying comes as easily to her as breathing! Or rather,
she makes up truths to suit her purposes. It would be too simple, too banal for her to be just a
servant in the old man's house. She would rather let it be thought that if he had sent for
her …

Maigret turns and looks at the kitchen window.
What had been the relationship between these two people living
in such
isolation? He has a feeling, no, he is sure that they must have squabbled like cat and dog.

Suddenly, Maigret gives a start. He has just
emerged from the wine store, where he has drunk a second glass of wine. He is standing there in
the twilight with the straw hat on his head and wonders for a moment if he is not dreaming. An
electric light bulb has just been switched on behind the kitchen's lacy curtains. He can
see gleaming saucepans hanging on the gloss-painted walls, he hears the ‘pfft' as
the gas stove is lit. By the inspector's watch it is ten minutes to eight.

He opens the door and sees Félicie, who has
already hung her hat and the veil on a peg on the hallstand and has just put a pan of water on
to boil.

‘Hello! You've come back
then?'

She is not startled, she just looks at him all
the way from his feet to his head, and her eyes settle on the straw hat, which Maigret has
completely forgotten.

He sits down. He must automatically have chosen
the old man's chair by the window and now, as he stretches out his legs, Félicie
comes and goes as if he is not there, lays the table for her dinner and fetches the butter,
bread and cured sausage from the cupboard.

‘Tell me, my girl …'

‘I'm not your girl.'

‘Tell me, Félicie …'

‘Say mademoiselle!'

Good God! What an unpleasant creature the girl
is! Maigret feels the same annoyance that you feel when you try to pick up a small animal which
keeps slipping through
your fingers, a lizard for example, or a snake. He is
uneasy about taking her seriously but he has no choice for he senses that it is from her and her
alone that he will learn the truth.

‘I asked you not to leave.'

She breaks into a smug smile, as if to say:
‘But I left anyway! So there!'

‘May I ask why you went to
Paris?'

‘For the ride!'

‘Really? Bear in mind that I shall soon
know every last detail of where you went and what you did.'

‘I know. A moron followed me
everywhere.'

‘What moron?'

‘A tall red-headed moron who dogged my
footsteps on six separate trains on the Métro.'

Inspector Janvier most likely, who must have been
sent to tail her from the moment the mechanic's van arrived at Porte Maillot.

‘Whom did you go to see?'

‘Nobody.'

She sits down to eat, then goes one better. She
props up one of her cheap novels in front of her. She has kept her page with a knife and calmly
begins to read.

‘Tell me, Félicie …'

The obstinacy of a goat, that's what struck
the inspector the moment he saw her again. It is only now that he realizes it. Head held high
and stubborn as a goat, she is grimly ready to charge anything that looks like an obstacle.

‘Do you intend to spend tonight alone in
this house?'

‘What about you? Are you thinking of
staying here?'

She eats, she reads. He hides
his irritation under a veil of irony that he hopes will sound paternal.

‘You told me this morning that you were
certain you would inherit …'

‘And …?'

‘How did you know?'

‘I just did!'

She has made coffee for herself and pours herself
a cup. It is clear she likes coffee; she savours it but doesn't offer any to the
inspector. At this point, Maigret gets to his feet with a sigh:

‘I will come and see you
tomorrow.'

‘Please yourself.'

‘I hope you will have thought it all
over.'

She defies him with a look from those pale eyes,
in which he can read nothing. Then, with a shrug of her shoulders, she says casually:

‘Thought all what over?'

Outside the front door of Cape Horn, Maigret
discovers Inspector Janvier, who has continued shadowing the girl all the way back to
Jeanneville. The end of his cigarette glows in the dark. There is no wind. Stars above. The
croaking of frogs.

‘I recognized her straight away, sir, from
the description Lucas phoned through. When the van arrived at the toll point, she was sitting
next to the mechanic, and they both seemed to be getting on like a house on fire. She got out.
She walked up Avenue de la Grande-Armée, looking in the shop windows. At the corner of Rue
Villaret-de-Joyeuse,
she went into a cake shop, where she ate half a dozen
cream cakes and drank a glass of port.'

‘Did she spot you?'

‘I don't think so.'

‘Well I do.'

Janvier looks embarrassed.

‘From there she headed for the Métro.
She bought a second-class ticket, and we changed first at Concorde, then again at Saint-Lazare.
The carriages were almost empty. She sat and read a novelette which she had in her handbag. In
all, we changed trains five times …'

‘Did she talk to anyone?'

‘No. Gradually more and more passengers got
on. At six o'clock, when the shops and offices closed, it was the rush hour. You know what
it's like …'

‘Go on.'

‘At the Les Ternes station, we were wedged
in the crowd less than a metre apart. It was then, I admit, that I realized she knew she was
being followed. She stared at me. I had the impression, sir … How can I put it … For
a brief moment, her face was completely different. It was as if she was afraid. I'm
certain that for a moment she was afraid of me, or of something … It only lasted a few
seconds then suddenly she was elbowing her way out and on to the platform …'

‘Are you quite sure she didn't speak
to anybody?'

‘Certain. On the platform she waited until
the train began to move off and kept her eyes fixed on the crowded carriage.'

‘Did she seem to be looking for anyone in
particular?'

‘I couldn't say.
What I can tell you is that her face relaxed, and when the train had disappeared into the dark
tunnel she was unable to prevent herself flashing me a look of triumph. Then she went up to
street level. She didn't seem to know where she was. She drank an aperitif in the bar on
the corner of Avenue des Ternes, then she consulted a rail timetable and took a taxi to
Saint-Lazare station … That's everything … I got the same train as her to
Poissy, and we both walked up the hill, one behind the other.'

‘Have you eaten?'

‘I managed to snatch a sandwich at the
station.'

‘Stay here and wait till Lucas
comes.'

Maigret turns away and walks out of the peaceful
village of Jeanneville, where all that can be seen are a few pink lights in windows. He soon
reaches Orgeval and locates Lucas in the Anneau d'Or. Lucas is not alone. The man he is
with, who wears blue overalls, can only be Louvet, the mechanic, who is in high spirits; the
four or five coasters already on the table in front of him show why.

‘My boss, Detective Chief Inspector Maigret
…' says Lucas by way of introduction. He too smells of alcohol.

‘As I was saying to the sergeant, sir, I
never suspected a thing when I got into the van. I go to Paris every Thursday afternoon to get
whatever I haven't got here …'

‘At the same time?'

‘Give or take …'

‘Did Félicie know?'

‘To be honest, I hardly knew her, and then
only by sight, because I'd never spoken to her. On the other hand, I knew
Pegleg, who came in here every evening to play cards with Forrentin and Lepape. Sometimes
it was the landlord, sometimes me or somebody else who made the fourth hand … Look …
That's Forrentin and Lepape over there, in the corner on the left, with the mayor and the
builder.'

‘When did you realize there was someone in
your vehicle?'

‘Just before I got to Saint-Germain. I
heard a sort of moaning just behind me. I thought it was the wind, because it was a bit blowy,
and it kept lifting the tarpaulin. Then suddenly I hear this voice saying: “Have you got a
light?”

‘I turn round and I see her. She'd
lifted her veil and had a cigarette in her mouth.

‘She wasn't laughing, that's
for sure. She was dead pale, and the cigarette between her lips was trembling …

‘“What are you doing there?” I
asked.

‘Then she started talking, she talked
non-stop … She said it was absolutely vital for her to get to Paris as soon as possible,
how it was a matter of life and death, how the men who killed Pegleg were now after her, that
the police didn't have a clue about what was going on.