The Methods of Maigret ( PDFDrive )

The latter still didn’t stir.
“Excuse me, madame, but I must take your secretary away.”
“Are you arresting him? But I tell you he was here, he didn’t leave me all
night, that…”
She looked at the door of the cabin which served as a bedroom and one could
feel that she was on the point of throwing open the door, showing the double bed
and shouting:
“How could he have gone without my knowing?”
Maigret and Mr. Pyke had risen as well.
“Will you come with me, Monsieur de Moricourt?”
“Have you a warrant?”
“I shall ask for one from the examining magistrate if you insist, but I don’t
think that will be the case.”
“Are you arresting me?”
“Not yet.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere where we can have a quiet conversation. Don’t you think it
would be better that way?”
“Tell me, Philippe…” Mrs. Wilcox began.
Without realizing, she began to speak to him in English. Philippe wasn’t
listening to her, or looking at her, or thinking about her any more. As he climbed
onto the deck she was not even given a look of farewell.
“This won’t get you very far,” he said to Maigret.
“That’s very possible.”
“Perhaps you’re going to handcuff me?”
It was still Sunday and the Cormorant, moored to the jetty, was disgorging its
passengers in their bright-colored clothes. Already some tourists, perched on
rocks, were busy fishing.
Mr. Pyke left the cabin last, and when he took his place in the dinghy he was
very red. Lechat, quite overcome by the extra passenger, didn’t know what to
say.
Maigret, seated at the stern, allowed his left hand to trail in the water as he
used to do when he was small and his father took him in a boat on the pond.
The bells were still carving their circles of sound in the air.