The Methods of Maigret ( PDFDrive )
“Where?”“To the water. Paul lent him a bathing suit.”They headed unconsciously for the harbor. The slope of the ground led themthere of its own accord. One felt that everyone was bound inevitably to take thesame path.“I think you’d better be very careful. The person who killed Marcellin has agrudge against you and will try to get you.”“We’d better wait until Mr. Pyke is out of the water.”Lechat indicated a head which was emerging on the far side of the boats.“Is he on the case?”“He’s following it. We’d better not give the impression of plotting behind hisback.”“We would have been quieter at the Grand Hotel. It’s closed in winter. It hasonly just opened and there’s no one there. Only it’s at Paul’s that everyonemeets. It’s there that it all began, because it was there that Marcellin mentionedyou and claimed you were a friend of his.”“Let’s wait for Mr. Pyke.”“Do you want to question people in his presence?”“I shall have to.”Lechat made a wry face but did not dare to protest.“Where are you thinking of summoning them? There’s hardly anywhereexcept the town hall. A single room with benches, a table, and flags for thefourteenth of July. The mayor keeps the grocer’s shop next to the Arche de Noé.That’s him you can see over there, pushing a wheelbarrow.”Mr. Pyke was now returning into his depth once more, near a boat attached toa chain, was walking in the water, peacefully splashing in the sun.“The water’s marvelous,” he said.“If you like, we’ll wait here while you go and get dressed.”“I’m very comfortable as I am.”This time it was a point to him. He was, in fact, just as much at his ease inswimming trunks, with drops of water trickling down his long thin body, as inhis gray suit.He pointed to a black yacht, not in the harbor, but at anchor, several cablesout. The English flag was discernible.“Who’s that?”
Lechat explained:“The boat is called the North Star. It comes here almost every year. It belongsto a Mrs. Ellen Wilcox; that’s also the name of a whisky, I believe. She’s theowner of Wilcox whisky.”“Is she young?”“She’s fairly well preserved. She lives on board with her secretary, Philippede Moricourt, and a crew of two. There’s another Englishman on the island wholives here all the year round. You can see his house from here. It’s the one withthe minaret beside it.”Mr. Pyke didn’t look particularly enthusiastic at coming across fellowcountrymen.“It’s Major Bellam, but the locals simply call him the major, and sometimesTeddy.”“I suppose he’s an Indian army major?”“I don’t know.”“Does he drink a lot?”“Yes, a lot. You’ll see him tonight at the Arche. You’ll see everyone at theArche, including Mrs. Wilcox and her secretary.”“Were they present when Marcellin spoke?” asked Maigret for the sake ofsomething to say, for in actual fact he was no longer interested in anything.“They were. Practically everyone was at the Arche, as they are every evening.In a week or two the tourists begin to pour in and life will be different. For themoment it’s not entirely the life of the winter when the inhabitants are alone onthe island, and it’s not quite what is called the season. Only the regulars havearrived. I don’t know if you follow me. Most of them have been coming here foryears and know everybody. The major has been living at the Minaret for eightyears. The villa next to it belongs to Monsieur Émile.”Lechat looked at Maigret with a hesitant air. Perhaps, in the presence of theEnglishman he, too, was overcome with a sort of patriotic shame.“Monsieur Émile?”“You know him. At any rate, he knows you. He lives with his mother, oldJustine, who is one of the most widely known women on the Riviera. She’s theproprietor of the Fleurs at Marseilles, the Sirènes at Nice, two or three houses atToulon, Béziers, Avignon…”Had Mr. Pyke realized what sort of houses they were?“Justine’s seventy-nine years old. I thought she was older, for Monsieur Émile
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Lechat explained:
“The boat is called the North Star. It comes here almost every year. It belongs
to a Mrs. Ellen Wilcox; that’s also the name of a whisky, I believe. She’s the
owner of Wilcox whisky.”
“Is she young?”
“She’s fairly well preserved. She lives on board with her secretary, Philippe
de Moricourt, and a crew of two. There’s another Englishman on the island who
lives here all the year round. You can see his house from here. It’s the one with
the minaret beside it.”
Mr. Pyke didn’t look particularly enthusiastic at coming across fellow
countrymen.
“It’s Major Bellam, but the locals simply call him the major, and sometimes
Teddy.”
“I suppose he’s an Indian army major?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he drink a lot?”
“Yes, a lot. You’ll see him tonight at the Arche. You’ll see everyone at the
Arche, including Mrs. Wilcox and her secretary.”
“Were they present when Marcellin spoke?” asked Maigret for the sake of
something to say, for in actual fact he was no longer interested in anything.
“They were. Practically everyone was at the Arche, as they are every evening.
In a week or two the tourists begin to pour in and life will be different. For the
moment it’s not entirely the life of the winter when the inhabitants are alone on
the island, and it’s not quite what is called the season. Only the regulars have
arrived. I don’t know if you follow me. Most of them have been coming here for
years and know everybody. The major has been living at the Minaret for eight
years. The villa next to it belongs to Monsieur Émile.”
Lechat looked at Maigret with a hesitant air. Perhaps, in the presence of the
Englishman he, too, was overcome with a sort of patriotic shame.
“Monsieur Émile?”
“You know him. At any rate, he knows you. He lives with his mother, old
Justine, who is one of the most widely known women on the Riviera. She’s the
proprietor of the Fleurs at Marseilles, the Sirènes at Nice, two or three houses at
Toulon, Béziers, Avignon…”
Had Mr. Pyke realized what sort of houses they were?
“Justine’s seventy-nine years old. I thought she was older, for Monsieur Émile
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