Free A Man's Head by Georges Simenon Page A

She’ll be down any moment now. We’re dining in town with friends. It’s a benefit gala at the Ritz.’
    And on cue Mrs Crosby had emerged from the lift, cosily wrapped in a hooded ermine cape, and stared at the policeman with considerable surprise.
    â€˜What is it?’
    â€˜There’s no need to be concerned. I’m looking for a man named Radek.’
    â€˜Radek? Is he staying here?’
    Crosby had stuffed the notes into his pocket and held out his hand to Maigret.
    â€˜You must excuse me, we’re running rather late.’
    The car waiting outside glided smoothly forwards over the asphalt.
    The phone rang loudly.
    â€˜Hello? Examining Magistrate Coméliau asking to speak to Detective Chief Inspector Maigret.’
    â€˜Say I’m not in yet.’
    At this time of day, Coméliau must be phoning from home. No doubt he was in his dressing gown, busily eating his breakfast as he skimmed through the newspapers, lips quivering as usual with that nervous tremor of his.
    â€˜Listen, Jean. Has anyone else been asking for me? … Anyway, what did Coméliau want?’
    â€˜He wants you to call him the moment you get in. He’ll be at home until nine, then after that he’ll be in the prosecutor’s office … Hello? … Wait! … A call for you … Hello?
Hello? … Detective Chief Inspector Maigret? … I’ll put Inspector Janvier through to you …’
    A moment later, the call came through.
    â€˜That you, sir?’
    â€˜Disappear, did he?’
    â€˜Vanished, yes. I don’t get it. I wasn’t twenty metres behind him …’
    â€˜And …? Out with it!’
    â€˜I’m still wondering how it could have happened. Especially since I’m certain he hadn’t spotted me.’
    â€˜Carry on.’
    â€˜First he just ambled round the streets of Montparnasse. Then he walked into the station. It was the time of day when the suburban trains were arriving, and I closed up on him because I was afraid of losing him in the crowd.’
    â€˜But he went missing all the same!’
    â€˜Yes, but not in the crowd. He got into a train that had just arrived. He didn’t buy a ticket. In the time it took me to ask a porter where the train was going while I kept one eye on his carriage, he had disappeared from his
compartment. He must have got out of the other side of the train …’
    â€˜Good grief!’
    â€˜What do you want me to do now?’
    â€˜Go back to the Coupole and wait for me there … Don’t be surprised by anything … And above all, stay calm!’
    â€˜I swear, sir …’
    From the other end of the line, the voice of Inspector Janvier, who was only twenty-five, sounded like that of a small boy who was about to burst into tears.
    â€˜Right, then. I’ll see you shortly.’
    Maigret put the receiver down and then picked it up again.
    â€˜Hôtel Georges V? … Hello? … Yes … Has Monsieur William Crosby returned? … No … No need to bother him … What time did he get in? … Three o’clock? … And
Madame Crosby was with him? … Thank you … Yes? … What’s that? … He left instructions that he was not to be disturbed before eleven? … Thanks … No, there’s no message … I’ll see him myself.’
    The inspector took a few moments to fill his pipe and even to check that there was enough coal on the fire.
    At that moment, to anyone who did not know him closely, he would have given the impression of a man oozing confidence, striding unhesitatingly towards a certain goal. He thrust out his chest and blew the smoke from his pipe at the ceiling. When the
office clerk brought him the morning newspapers, he was in a joky, cheerful