By Georges Simenon
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2010 Retail ePub
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Additional resources for Maigret and the Death of a Harbor-Master
He filled his pipe again. He had smoked so many pipes since leaving Paris that you could have cut the air in the compartment with a knife. ” Julie had seized the opportunity to dab her nose with her puff. Her eyes were still red with weeping. Curious! There were moments when she looked quite attractive, chic almost by Parisian standards; others when, though one couldn’t say just why, her peasant origin showed definitely through. ” For Joris had no family. For years he had lived alone, except for Julie, whom he called his housekeeper.
She panted. ” She took a combative tone, hoping to brazen out her lie. ” No answer. “I see. He forbade it. But your brother came all the same. ” A hard, almost murderous glance. “The Saint Michel” Maigret continued calmly, “was in harbor. Quite natural he should look you up. Just one question, by the way. ” she muttered under her breath. “He came here while you were in Paris. As you were away, he left a note for you. To make sure that you and no one else would find it, he put it in the store-cupboard.
Almost immediately afterwards, as it seemed to him, there was a banging on his door. ” It was the proprietor of the hotel. Seriously upset, judging by his expression. More time had passed than Maigret had supposed, for sunlight was streaming through the windows. The foghorn, however, was still at it, full blast. “Get up. ” “Joris. Julie’s just rushed down to the village to fetch the doctor. ” Maigret had already pulled on his shirt and trousers. He thrust his feet into his shoes without troubling to lace them up.