The Methods of Maigret ( PDFDrive )
CHAPTER 2« ^ »And so the first round had been fairly successfully concluded. Which does notmean that there had been any competition between the two men, at least not onprofessional grounds. If Mr. Pyke was more or less participating in Maigret’sactivities as a policeman, it was purely in the role of spectator.Yet Maigret was thinking in terms of “first round,” aware that it was not quiteaccurate. Hasn’t one the right to use one’s own private language in one’s ownmind?When he had joined the English detective in the Pullman corridor, forexample, there was no doubt that the latter, taken by surprise, hadn’t the time toefface the expression of wonder which quite transfigured him. Was it simplyshame, because a Scotland Yard official is not supposed to give his attention tothe sunrise on one of the most beautiful landscapes in the world? Or was theEnglishman reluctant to show outward signs of admiration, considering itindecent in the presence of an alien witness.Maigret had inwardly chalked up a point to himself, without a moment’shesitation.In the restaurant car Mr. Pyke had scored one in his turn, unquestionably. Amere nothing. A slight contraction of the nostrils on the arrival of the bacon andeggs, which were indisputably not so good as in his country.“Don’t you know the Mediterranean, Mr. Pyke?”“I usually spend my holidays in Sussex. I once went to Egypt though. The seawas gray and choppy, and it rained all the way.”And Maigret, who in his heart of hearts didn’t like the Midi very much, felthimself spurred by the desire to defend it.A questionable point: the headwaiter, who had recognized the Chief Inspector,whom he must have served elsewhere, came up and asked in an insinuatingvoice immediately after his breakfast:“Something to drink, as usual?”Now the day before or the day before that, the Yard Inspector had observed,with the air of one who never touches it, that an English gentleman never hadstrong drinks before the end of the afternoon.The arrival of Hyères was indisputably a round in Maigret’s favor. The palm
trees around the station were motionless, transfixed in a Sahara sun. It was verylikely that there had been an important market that morning, a fair or a fête, forthe carts, vans, and heavy lorries were mobile pyramids of early vegetables,fruits, and flowers.Mr. Pyke, just like Maigret, found his breath coming a little more quickly.There was a real sense of entering another world, and it was uncomfortable to doso with the dark clothes which had done for the previous day in the rainy streetsof Paris.He ought, like Inspector Lechat, to have worn a light suit, a shirt with opencollar, and shown a red patch of sunburn on his forehead. Maigret had notimmediately recognized him, for he remembered his name rather than his face.Lechat, who was threading his way through the porters, looked almost like a boyfrom the district, small and thin, hatless, with espadrilles on his feet.“Over here, Chief!”Was this a good mark? For while this devil Mr. Pyke noted everything down,it was impossible to tell what he classified under the good column and what heput into the bad one. Officially Lechat ought to have called Maigret “ChiefInspector,” for he was not in his department. But there were few detectives inFrance who could deny themselves the pleasure of calling him “Chief” withaffectionate familiarity.“Mr. Pyke, you already know about Inspector Lechat. Lechat, let me introduceMr. Pyke, from Scotland Yard.”“Are they in on it too?”Lechat was so taken up with his Marcellin case that it didn’t surprise him atall that it should have become an international affair.“Mr. Pyke is in France on a study tour.”While they walked through the crowd Maigret wondered at the curious wayLechat had of walking sideways, as though dislocating his neck.“Let’s hurry through,” he was saying. “I’ve got a car at the entrance.”It was the small official car. Once inside, the Inspector heaved a sigh:“I thought you’d better be careful. Everyone knows it’s you they’ve got it infor.”So just now, in the crowd, it was Maigret the tiny Lechat was trying toprotect!“Shall I take you straight to the island? You haven’t anything to do in Hyères,have you?”
- Page 2 and 3: The Methods of Maigretalso publishe
- Page 4 and 5: downpours. It had been raining like
- Page 6 and 7: mistaking the question in the Engli
- Page 8 and 9: “Tell me Langlois… By the way,
- Page 10 and 11: friends who is an expert on consump
- Page 12 and 13: to be seen there. Everyone knows ev
- Page 14 and 15: “I don’t know.”It was true. O
- Page 18 and 19: And off they went. The land was fla
- Page 20 and 21: turn: all this in an odd silence.Th
- Page 22 and 23: “Where?”“To the water. Paul l
- Page 24 and 25: is sixty-five. It appears she had h
- Page 26 and 27: should have kept your letter, don
- Page 28 and 29: Paul’s a good chap. But there’s
- Page 30 and 31: wearing a butcher’s yellowish apr
- Page 32 and 33: stayed, perhaps even wrote home for
- Page 34 and 35: “They prefer not to think about i
- Page 36 and 37: “It’s she who runs the Sirènes
- Page 38 and 39: friendship, I sometimes act as her
- Page 40 and 41: “Of course.”“Were there other
- Page 42 and 43: that it was all futile, that he oug
- Page 44 and 45: for the open air.<P“Le Petit Var
- Page 46 and 47: “What about?”“I know perfectl
- Page 48 and 49: to her apron strings and that is wh
- Page 50 and 51: “When?”“When Justine dies.”
- Page 52 and 53: “You must do as you wish,” she
- Page 54 and 55: be heard calling in the distance:
- Page 56 and 57: one probably doesn’t come across
- Page 58 and 59: CHAPTER 5« ^ »He had thought abou
- Page 60 and 61: Marcellin ever happen to go up to s
- Page 62 and 63: It is always ridiculous to play the
- Page 64 and 65: could be heard. Only the movement o
CHAPTER 2
« ^ »
And so the first round had been fairly successfully concluded. Which does not
mean that there had been any competition between the two men, at least not on
professional grounds. If Mr. Pyke was more or less participating in Maigret’s
activities as a policeman, it was purely in the role of spectator.
Yet Maigret was thinking in terms of “first round,” aware that it was not quite
accurate. Hasn’t one the right to use one’s own private language in one’s own
mind?
When he had joined the English detective in the Pullman corridor, for
example, there was no doubt that the latter, taken by surprise, hadn’t the time to
efface the expression of wonder which quite transfigured him. Was it simply
shame, because a Scotland Yard official is not supposed to give his attention to
the sunrise on one of the most beautiful landscapes in the world? Or was the
Englishman reluctant to show outward signs of admiration, considering it
indecent in the presence of an alien witness.
Maigret had inwardly chalked up a point to himself, without a moment’s
hesitation.
In the restaurant car Mr. Pyke had scored one in his turn, unquestionably. A
mere nothing. A slight contraction of the nostrils on the arrival of the bacon and
eggs, which were indisputably not so good as in his country.
“Don’t you know the Mediterranean, Mr. Pyke?”
“I usually spend my holidays in Sussex. I once went to Egypt though. The sea
was gray and choppy, and it rained all the way.”
And Maigret, who in his heart of hearts didn’t like the Midi very much, felt
himself spurred by the desire to defend it.
A questionable point: the headwaiter, who had recognized the Chief Inspector,
whom he must have served elsewhere, came up and asked in an insinuating
voice immediately after his breakfast:
“Something to drink, as usual?”
Now the day before or the day before that, the Yard Inspector had observed,
with the air of one who never touches it, that an English gentleman never had
strong drinks before the end of the afternoon.
The arrival of Hyères was indisputably a round in Maigret’s favor. The palm
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