Free The Saint-Fiacre Affair by Georges Simenon; Translated by Shaun Whiteside Page A

are at the
     chateau, along with the belongings of the late countess …
    â€˜And yet, as of now, other people
     have turned up there, with the clear intention of getting their hands on
      …’
    â€˜A few pairs of pyjamas and some
     old slippers!’ groaned Maigret as he got up from his chair.
    â€˜Excuse me?’
    Throughout the whole of the
     conversation, Jean Métayer had been writing things down in a little notebook. And it
     was he who calmed down his lawyer, who had in turn leaped to his feet.
    â€˜Leave it! I knew straight away
     that the inspector would be against me! And I have since learned that he belonged
     indirectly to the chateau, where he was born in the days when his father was the
     estate manager of the Saint-Fiacres. I warned you … You were the one who wanted
      …’
    The clock struck ten. Maigret calculated
     that Marie Vassiliev’s train would have arrived at the Gare de Lyon half an
     hour earlier.
    â€˜You will excuse me!’ he
     said. ‘I will see you again in due course.’
    â€˜But …’
    He in turn stepped into the grocery
     opposite, whose bell rang. He waited a quarter of an hour for a call to be connected
     to Paris.
    â€˜Is it true that you’re the
     son of the old estate manager?’
    Maigret was exhausted, more than he
     would have been
after ten normal
     investigations. He ached, both emotionally and physically.
    â€˜Paris speaking …’
    â€˜Hello! … The Comptoir
     d’Escompte? … This is the Police Judiciaire … A piece of information please …
     Has a cheque signed Saint-Fiacre been presented this morning? … You say it was
     presented at nine o’clock? … So, insufficient funds … Hello! … Please
     don’t hang up, madam … You asked the bearer to present it a second time? …
     Excellent! … Ah! That’s what I wanted to know … A young woman, is that right?
      … A quarter of an hour ago? … And she paid in the forty thousand francs? … Thank you
      … Of course you can pay! … No! No! Nothing in particular … Given that the deposit
     has been made …’
    And Maigret left the cabin with a weary
     sigh.
    Maurice de Saint-Fiacre, during the
     night, had found the forty thousand francs and sent his mistress to Paris to deposit
     them at the bank!
    Just as the inspector was leaving the
     grocer’s shop, he saw the priest leaving his house, clutching his breviary and
     heading towards the chateau.
    Then he speeded up and almost ran to get
     to the door at the same time as the priest.
    He missed him by less than a minute. By
     the time he reached the main courtyard the door was closing behind the priest. And
     when he rang the doorbell there were footsteps at the end of the corridor, near the
     library.

6. The Two Camps
    â€˜Let me go and see if the count can
      …’
    But the inspector didn’t give the
     butler time to finish his sentence. He stepped into the corridor and headed for the
     library. The butler heaved a sigh of resignation. There wasn’t even a way of
     keeping up appearances any more! People were treating the place like a hotel! It was
     chaos!
    Maigret paused before opening the
     library door, but to no end, because he didn’t hear a sound. It was, in fact,
     what gave his entrance an impressive quality.
    He knocked, thinking that the priest
     might be somewhere else. But a voice immediately rang out, clearly and firmly, in
     the absolute silence of the room:
    â€˜Come in!’
    Maigret pushed the door, which happened
     to catch on an air vent. The Count of Saint-Fiacre, who stood leaning against the
     gothic table, was looking at him.
    Beside him, the priest was staring at
     the carpet, frozen, as if a single movement would have given him