Inspector Cadaver (7 page)

‘If you like …'

He takes small, sharp draws on his pipe.
This isn't the latent or muted hostility he has encountered thus far; he is being
taunted now, provoked almost.

‘What do you want me to say, son, it
takes all trades,' says the ploughman after a long silence, without anyone having
asked him anything.

The others burst out laughing, as if these
simple words
mean a great deal to them. Only one doesn't laugh, a
youngster, a kid of eighteen or nineteen with light-grey eyes and a face pitted with
smallpox scars.

Leaning on one elbow, he looks Maigret in
the eye as if he wants to make him feel the full weight of his hatred or contempt.

‘You've got to have some pride,
though!' another growls.

‘When there's money involved,
pride never gets much of a look-in …'

This may not really mean anything, but
Maigret has understood. He has finally found the opposition party, to use a political
term.

Who knows? No doubt the Trois Mules is the
source of all the rumours that have been going around. And these people are attacking
him because they think he's being paid by Étienne Naud to hush up the
truth.

‘Tell me, gentlemen …'

He has got to his feet. He has started
walking towards them and, although he does not suffer from shyness, he feels his ears
burning.

Absolute silence greets him. Only the young
man carries on looking him full in the face. The others turn away, a little
embarrassed.

‘As you're locals, perhaps you
could answer some questions for me and let justice take its course …'

They are suspicious. Of course the notion
appeals to them, but they are not about to give in just like that. The old man grumbles,
looking at his spit spangling the floor:

‘Whose justice?
Naud's?'

As if he hasn't
heard, the inspector carries on, while the landlady, baby on hip, comes and stands in
the kitchen door.

‘For that to happen, there are two
things in particular that I need to find. First, a friend of Retailleau: a real friend,
and someone, if possible, who was with him on his last night …'

A nod from the three men towards the
youngest tells Maigret that the latter fits this description.

‘Then I have to get my hands on the
cap. You know the one I mean.'

‘On you go, Louis!' growls the
ploughman, rolling a cigarette.

But the young man is not convinced yet.

‘Who sent you?'

It's the first time Maigret has ever
been compelled to account for himself to a young country lad. But there's no
alternative. He has to win this fellow over.

‘Detective Chief Inspector Maigret of
the Police Judiciaire.'

Who knows? By some chance, the kid may have
heard of him. Unfortunately his name doesn't prompt even a flicker of
recognition.

‘Why did you stay at
Naud's?'

‘Because he'd been told I was
coming and he picked me up at the station. As I wasn't familiar with the town
…'

‘There are hotels.'

‘I didn't know that.'

‘Who's the guy who's
staying across the road?'

‘A private detective.'

‘Who's he
working for?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Why hasn't there been an
investigation yet? Albert died three weeks ago.'

‘Good work, son! On you go!' the
three men seem to be encouraging the teenager as he fights against shyness, his whole
body rigid with the effort.

‘No one lodged a complaint.'

‘So, you can kill someone and, as long
as there's no complaint …'

‘The doctor declared it an
accident.'

‘Was he there when it
happened?'

‘As soon as I've gathered
sufficient evidence, the investigation will become official.'

‘What do you call evidence?'

‘If it could be proved, for instance,
that the cap was discovered between the Nauds' house and the place where the body
was found.'

‘Should take him round to
Désiré,' says the fattest of the men, in carpenter's overalls.
‘Same again, Mélie. Bring another glass.'

That in itself is a victory for Maigret.

‘What time did Retailleau leave the
café that night?'

‘Eleven thirty, maybe
…'

‘Were there many people
there?'

‘Four. We'd been playing
coinche.'

‘You all left together?'

‘The other two headed off to the left.
I went some of the way with Albert.'

‘In which direction?'

‘To the
Nauds'.'

‘Did he confide in you?'

‘No.'

The young man has grown melancholy. He
shakes his head regretfully, visibly trying to be scrupulously honest.

‘He didn't tell you why he was
going to the Nauds'?'

‘No. He was furious.'

‘Who with?'

‘With her.'

‘Mademoiselle Naud, you mean?
He'd talked to you about her before?'

‘Yes.'

‘What had he told you?'

‘This and that … Nothing in
particular … He went there almost every night.'

‘He bragged about it?'

‘No,' the lad says with a
reproachful look. ‘He was in love and it showed. He couldn't hide
it.'

‘And on the last day, he was
furious?'

‘Yes. All evening, playing cards, his
mind was elsewhere, and he kept looking at the clock. On the path, when he left me
…'

‘Where?'

‘Five hundred metres from the
Nauds' place.'

‘So, where he was found
dead?'

‘Roughly … I had taken him
halfway …'

‘And you're sure he went
on?'

‘Yes. He told me, with tears in his
eyes, holding both my hands, “It's over, Louis, my old friend
…”'

‘What was over?'

‘Between him and
Geneviève. That's what I understood. He meant he was going there for the last
time.'

‘But did he go there?'

‘There was a moon that night. It was
freezing. I saw him again when he was no more than a hundred metres from the
house.'

‘And the cap?'

Young Louis gets up, looks at the others
with a resolute air.

‘Come on …'

‘Do you trust him, Louis?' asks
one of the older men. ‘Watch out, my son.'

But Louis is of an age when you don't
hold back. He looks Maigret in the eye as if to say, ‘You're the lowest of
the low if you let me down!'

‘Follow me. It's just round the
corner.'

‘Your glass. Here's to you,
inspector … You can believe everything the kid tells you, that's the main
thing. He's as honest as the day is long, that boy.'

‘Your good health,
gentlemen.'

He toasts them, not that he has any choice.
The big glasses clink, and then he follows Louis out, forgetting to pay for his
wine.

As he steps outside he sees Cadaver on the
other side of the road, heading back to the
Lion d'Or, his briefcase
under his arm. Is Maigret mistaken? He has the impression that a sardonic smile passes
over the face of his former colleague, which he only sees in profile.

‘Come here … This way
…'

The two of them make their way along a
network of
back alleys connecting the town's three or four
streets that Maigret hadn't suspected existed.

In one of those rows of little houses
fronted by tiny gardens with picket fences, Louis pushes open a gate with a bell hanging
on it and calls out, ‘It's me!'

He goes into a kitchen where four or five
children are sitting round a table having lunch.

‘What is it, Louis?' asks his
mother, giving Maigret an embarrassed look.

‘Wait for me here … Just a
moment, sir …'

He rushes up the stairs which lead straight
off the kitchen and goes into a bedroom, where he can be heard opening a chest of
drawers. Then he starts pacing up and down, knocking over a chair, while his mother, who
isn't sure whether she should make Maigret welcome, closes the door behind him
anyway.

Pale and agitated, Louis storms back
down.

‘It's been stolen!' he
announces, glowering.

Then turning to his mother, he says
harshly:

‘Someone's been here …
Who? Who was here this morning?'

‘Now, Louis …'

‘Who? Tell me who! Who stole the
cap?'

‘I don't even know what cap
you're talking about …'

‘Someone went up to my room
…'

He is so overexcited he looks as if
he's going to hit his mother.

‘Will you calm down! Can't you
hear how you're speaking to me?'

‘Were you in the whole
time?'

‘I went to the
butcher and the baker.'

‘And the kids?'

‘I left them next door, as usual. The
two youngest, who aren't at school yet.'

‘I'm sorry, inspector. I just
can't make this out. The cap was still in my drawer this morning. I'm sure
of it. I saw it …'

‘But what cap do you mean? Will you
answer me? Bless me, anyone would think you've gone mad! You'd be better off
sitting down and having something to eat … As for this gentleman you've just
left standing here …'

But Louis, with a sharp, suspicious look at
his mother, ushers Maigret outside.

‘Come on. There's more I need to
tell you … I swear on my father's grave that the cap …'

The impatient kid walked quickly, his neck
taut, his body bent forwards, dragging along in his wake the heavy-set Maigret, who was
uncomfortable with the whole set-up. What a sight the two of them must make, the
garrulous, persuasive younger one leading him on like one of those Montmartre touts you
see escorting an intimidated gent almost against his will to some dubious entertainment
or other.

As they were already turning the corner of
the lane, Louis' mother, standing on her doorstep, called out, ‘Aren't
you coming to eat, Louis?'

It was doubtful whether he even heard. He
was obsessed. He had promised this gentleman from Paris something and now an unforeseen
event meant that he couldn't keep his word. He'd be taken for a charlatan!
His cause would be compromised!

‘I want you to hear it from
Désiré himself. The cap was there, in my room. I wonder if my mother was
telling the truth …'

Maigret wondered the same thing and thought
of Inspector Cavre as he did so. He didn't imagine a mother of six would present
much of a challenge for him.

‘What time is it?'

‘Ten past midday …'

‘Désiré
will still be at the dairy. Let's go this way. It's quicker.'

He kept to the back alleys as before, and
they passed mean little houses that took Maigret by surprise. Somewhere a mud-spattered
sow threw itself at their shins.

‘One night at the Lion d'Or
– wait, the night of the funeral, in fact – old Désiré came in,
threw a cap on the table and asked in patois whose it was. I recognized it immediately,
because I'd been with Albert when he bought it in Niort, and we'd talked
about the colour.'

‘What's your trade?' asked
Maigret.

‘Joiner. The biggest one of that lot
in the Trois Mules just now is my boss. The evening I'm telling you about
Désiré was drunk. There were at least six people in the café. I asked him
where he'd found the hat. He collects milk from the little farms in the marshes,
you see, and, as you can't get to them by lorry, he does his rounds by boat
…

‘“I found it in the
reeds,” he told me, “just by the dead poplar …”

‘As I said, at least six people were
there who heard him say that. Everyone round here knows that the dead poplar is between
the Nauds' house and the place where Albert's body was found …

‘This way … We're going to
the dairy, you can see the chimney on the left …'

They had left the village. Dark hedges
surrounded small gardens. A little further on, the dairy came into view, a collection of
low buildings painted white and a tall chimney rising sheer into the sky.

‘I don't know
why I thought of sticking the cap in my pocket. I already had the feeling too many
people wanted this business hushed up.

‘“That's young
Retailleau's cap,” someone said.

‘And Désiré, even though he
was drunk as a lord, frowned. He knew very well that he shouldn't have found it
where he did.

‘“Are you sure,
Désiré, that it was near the dead poplar?”

‘“Why wouldn't I be
sure?”

‘Well, inspector, the next day he
wouldn't admit it. When you asked him where it was, he'd answer, “Over
there … I don't know exactly, do I? Why don't you give it a rest about
that cap?”'