The Methods of Maigret ( PDFDrive )

An odd sort of job, his! He was only a man like the others and he held the fate
of others in his hands.
He had looked at them one by one, the evening before. He hadn’t drunk much,
just enough to exaggerate his feelings ever so slightly. De Greef, with his clearcut
profile, stared at him from time to time in silent irony, and seemed to be
challenging him. Philippe, despite his fine name and his ancestors, was of a
coarser stock, and he tried hard to cut a figure each time Mrs. Wilcox ordered
him about like a servant.
He must have got his revenge at other moments, granted, but he was none the
less obliged to swallow insults in public.
The one he swallowed was fair-sized, so much so in fact that everyone felt
uncomfortable about it. Poor Paul, who unfortunately didn’t know where the
source of the trouble was, was at infinite pains to bring the party back to life.
They must be talking about it, down there. They would talk about it on the
island all day. Would Polyte keep the secret? Just then it hardly mattered.
Polyte was at the counter, his captain’s cap on his head, and he had already
consumed a considerable amount; he spoke so loud that his voice was drowning
the various conversations. On Mrs. Wilcox’s orders, Philippe had crossed the
room to start up the phonograph, as often happened.
Then, with a wink at Maigret, Polyte had headed in turn toward the machine
and stopped it.
Then he had turned to Moricourt and looked at him sarcastically, straight in
the eye.
Philippe, without protesting, had pretended not to notice.
“I don’t like people looking at me like that!” Polyte had then shouted out,
advancing a few paces.
“But… I’m not even looking at you…”
“So you don’t deign to look at me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You think I don’t understand?”
Mrs. Wilcox had murmured something in English to her companion. Mr. Pyke
had frowned.
“I’m not good enough for you, perhaps, you little rat.”
Very red in the face, Philippe still didn’t move, tried to look elsewhere.
“Try saying again that I’m not good enough for you.”
At the same moment De Greef had looked at Maigret sharply, in a particularly