OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University
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OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University

OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University OU_214051 UNIVERSA - Osmania University

oudl.osmania.ac.in
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26.12.2012 Views

i8o MAINLY MAIGRET letters lay scattered as though they had been flung down in anger or indignation. The farmer's face showed every sign of animation. But he quickly got his feelings under control, and his features set into a cold hostile reserve. " I'm afraid I am interrupting you ..." began Maigret. No one answered. No one said so much as a word. Only Madame Popinga, after a wild look round her, rushed out of the room, and hurried off to the kitchen. " I am really very sorry to have broken in upon you like this " At last Liewens spoke. Turning to Any, he rapped out a few phrases in Dutch, and the inspector could not help asking: " What does he say? " " That he'll come back another time. . .. That it's high time . .." She broke off, not knowing quite how to put it. But Maigret came to her rescue. " That it's high time the French police were taught manners! Something like that, wasn't it? We've run into each other before— this gentleman and I." The farmer was trying to understand the gist of Maigret's words by watching his features and listening to his intonation. Meanwhile the inspector's eye had wandered to the letters on the table. He caught sight of the signature at the bottom of one: Conrad. The atmosphere became more tense than ever. The farmer went over to a chair, and picked up his cap that was lying on it. Then he paused. He couldn't, after all, make up his mind to go. " I suppose he's brought you the letters that your brother-in-law wrote to his daughter? " " How do you know? " Good gracious! Wasn't it obvious enough? One could hardly imagine a scene that was easier to reconstruct. The atmosphere was thick and heavy with it.. .. Liewens arriving panting, trying to hold in his fury. Liewens shown into the drawing-room, politely asked to take a seat by the two frightened women.. .. But instead of sitting down he would burst out with all his pent-up wrath, flinging the letters down on to the table.. .. And Madame Popinga, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to do, hiding her face in her hands, inwardly refusing to believe the evidence that was spread out under her eyes. .. .

A CRIME IN HOLLAND 181 And Any, feebly arguing, trying to hold her own against the angry farmer. That was where they'd got to when Maigret had knocked and they'd all stood, still as statues, till Any had walked stiffly over to open the door. • But the inspector's reconstruction was not so accurate as all that. On one point he was wrong. Madame Popinga had more fight in her than he supposed. He had imagined her collapsed in the kitchen, a nerveless wreck. But the next moment she was back in the room, in a state of outward calmness such as is possible to some people when they are strung up to the highest pitch of emotion. Slowly she too laid some letters on the table. She did not throw them down. She laid them down. She looked at the farmer and then at the detective. Two or three times she opened her mouth before she was able to utter a sound, but when at last she did, she spoke quietly, gravely: " Someone must judge. . . . You must read these letters. . . ." Instantly the farmer's face flushed scarlet. He was too controlled to pounce upon the letters, but he seemed almost giddy with the effort to hold himself back. A woman's writing. . . . Elegant blue paper. . . . Unmistakably they were the letters Beetje had written to Conrad. One thing struck the eye at once. The disproportion in number between hers to him and his to her. The latter could hardly have amounted to more than ten. They were written on a single sheet, and were generally no more than four or five lines in length. Beetje's letters must have been quite three times that number. They were long and closely written. Conrad was dead. There remained this unequal correspondence, and the stacks of wood that had witnessed their meetings along the banks of the Amsterdiep. " We must take it quietly," said Maigret. " There's no use reading these letters in anger." The farmer looked at him so acutely that Maigret felt sure he understood. He took a step towards the table. Maigret leant over it too. At random he picked out one of Conrad's letters. " Will you be kind enough to translate it for me, Mademoiselle Any? "

i8o MAINLY MAIGRET<br />

letters lay scattered as though they had been flung down in anger<br />

or indignation.<br />

The farmer's face showed every sign of animation. But he quickly<br />

got his feelings under control, and his features set into a cold hostile<br />

reserve.<br />

" I'm afraid I am interrupting you ..." began Maigret.<br />

No one answered. No one said so much as a word. Only Madame<br />

Popinga, after a wild look round her, rushed out of the room, and<br />

hurried off to the kitchen.<br />

" I am really very sorry to have broken in upon you like<br />

this "<br />

At last Liewens spoke. Turning to Any, he rapped out a few<br />

phrases in Dutch, and the inspector could not help asking:<br />

" What does he say? "<br />

" That he'll come back another time. . .. That it's high time . .."<br />

She broke off, not knowing quite how to put it.<br />

But Maigret came to her rescue.<br />

" That it's high time the French police were taught manners!<br />

Something like that, wasn't it? We've run into each other before—<br />

this gentleman and I."<br />

The farmer was trying to understand the gist of Maigret's words<br />

by watching his features and listening to his intonation.<br />

Meanwhile the inspector's eye had wandered to the letters on<br />

the table. He caught sight of the signature at the bottom of one:<br />

Conrad.<br />

The atmosphere became more tense than ever. The farmer went<br />

over to a chair, and picked up his cap that was lying on it. Then he<br />

paused. He couldn't, after all, make up his mind to go.<br />

" I suppose he's brought you the letters that your brother-in-law<br />

wrote to his daughter? "<br />

" How do you know? "<br />

Good gracious! Wasn't it obvious enough? One could hardly<br />

imagine a scene that was easier to reconstruct. The atmosphere was<br />

thick and heavy with it.. .. Liewens arriving panting, trying to<br />

hold in his fury. Liewens shown into the drawing-room, politely<br />

asked to take a seat by the two frightened women.. .. But instead<br />

of sitting down he would burst out with all his pent-up wrath,<br />

flinging the letters down on to the table.. ..<br />

And Madame Popinga, not knowing what to say, not knowing<br />

what to do, hiding her face in her hands, inwardly refusing to<br />

believe the evidence that was spread out under her eyes. .. .

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