Free Inspector Cadaver by Georges Simenon

you bring us two
digestifs, madame?’
    Through the curtains, Maigret looked at the
windows opposite and imagined Cadaver having his lunch and watching him back. Reality
soon intervened, however, as a car noisily announced its presence and stopped outside
the Lion d’Or. Cavre got out, his briefcase under his arm, and bent down to the
driver to haggle over the price.
    ‘Whose car is
that?’
    ‘The mechanic at the garage’s.
We passed it just now. He runs a taxi service occasionally when someone’s going to
hospital or needs something urgently from the shops …’
    The car turned around and, judging by the
sound, only drove a short distance before stopping again.
    ‘You see. He’s gone back to his
place.’
    ‘Do you get on well with
him?’
    ‘He’s a friend of my
boss.’
    ‘Go and ask him where he went this
morning with his fare.’
    Less than five minutes later, Pockmarks came
running back.
    ‘He went to Fontenay-le-Comte.
That’s dead on twenty-two kilometres from here.’
    ‘You didn’t ask him where in
particular?’
    ‘He was told to stop at the Café
du Commerce, Rue de la République. The Parisian went in, then came out with someone
and told the driver to wait.’
    ‘You didn’t find out who his
companion was?’
    ‘The mechanic doesn’t know him
… They were gone for half an hour. Then your Cavre asked to be driven back. He
only gave him a five franc tip …’
    Hadn’t Étienne Naud gone to
Fontenay-le-Comte too?
    ‘Let’s go and see
Josaphat.’
    He had already left home. They caught up
with him at the station, where he was waiting for the train. When he saw Pockmarks and
Maigret appear at the far end of the platform, he seemed annoyed and rushed into the
stationmaster’s office as if he were busy.
    They waited for him all the
same.
    ‘Josaphat!’ called Louis.
    ‘What do you want? I don’t have
time for you.’
    ‘There’s someone who’d
like to have a quick word with you.’
    ‘Who’s that? I’m working,
and when I’m working …’
    Maigret had a struggle ushering him to an
empty spot between the lamp store and the urinals.
    ‘A simple question …’
    He was obviously on his guard. He pretended
to hear the train, to be poised to make a dash for the mail van. At the same time he
couldn’t help darting filthy looks at Louis, who had put him in this
situation.
    Maigret already knew he wouldn’t find
out anything. His colleague Cavre had clearly beaten him to it.
    ‘Hurry up, I can hear the train
…’
    ‘You picked something up a fortnight
or so ago from Madame Retailleau.’
    ‘I’m not allowed to talk about
work matters.’
    ‘But you did that evening.’
    ‘In front of me!’ the kid broke
in. ‘Avrard was there, Lhériteau, little Croman …’
    The postman shifted from foot to foot, a
stupid and insolent look on his face.
    ‘What gives you the right to
interrogate me?’
    ‘We can ask you a question,
can’t we? You’re not the Pope, are you?’
    ‘What if I asked this man who’s
been skulking around town since morning for his papers? Eh?’
    Maigret had already turned around, realizing
it waspointless to insist. Louis, however, shocked by such dishonesty,
lost his temper.
    ‘You’d have the nerve to say
that you didn’t talk about some thousand-franc notes that were in the
tureen?’
    ‘Why not? What are you going to do
about it?’
    ‘You talked about them. I’ll get
the others to tell it to your face too. You said the notes were pinned together
…’
    The postman walked away, shrugging. This
time the train really was pulling in and he took up position where the mail van always
stopped.
    ‘The shyster!’ Louis growled
between his teeth. ‘You heard him, didn’t you? Honestly, though, you can
believe me … Why would I lie? I knew this would happen.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because it’s always the same
when they’re involved …’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘All of them. I don’t know how
to explain it. They stick up for each other. They’re rich.