Authors: Georges Simenon
âFor the blotter was covered in traces
of ink, as if it had been used to blot a vast number of letters.
âIt's simple and silly, you see.
One thinks of everything, except little things like that.
âThat feels a very long time ago now,
whereas it happened only two weeks ago.'
âDid you find the letters?'
âIn the hiding place that all women
use: under her linen.'
âDid Ãmile mention their
departure?'
âThe last letter gave all the
details.'
He spoke in a sharp, curt tone.
âIt was the day before
â¦'
âAnd you didn't say
anything?'
âI didn't give anything
away.'
âYou were supposed to be going to a
dinner at the sub-prefecture, weren't you?'
âA gentlemen's dinner, yes. In
evening dress.'
âDid you go?'
âI put in an appearance.'
âAfter making sure your wife was in no
state to go out?'
âThat is correct. On the pretext that
she seemed on edge â which was true â I gave her some medication which was
actually a powerful sedative. Then I put her to bed and locked her in her
room.'
âAnd you went to the
meeting place?'
âAt the appointed hour, I had returned
home. All I needed to do was open the door that you have seen, the one to the waiting
room that opens on to the sidestreet. There was a shadow against the wall. The boy was
startled. I thought for a moment that he would run off as fast as his legs would carry
him and that I would have to give chase.'
âYou took him up to your consulting
room?'
âYes. I think I said: “Would you
come in for a moment? My wife isn't feeling well and won't be able to leave
with you today.”'
Maigret imagined the two men in the dark
street, Ãmile holding a suitcase, his two tickets for Paris in his pocket, quaking
in his boots.
âWhy did you ask him up?'
The doctor looked at him in amazement, as if
in asking that question Maigret showed himself not to be his equal.
âI couldn't do that in the
street.'
âYou had already decided
â¦'
The doctor blinked.
âIt is very simple, you know. And so
much easier than one thinks!'
âDid you have no pity?'
âIt didn't occur to me. Still
now, the word shocks me.'
âAll the same, he loved
her.'
âNo.'
And the doctor, trembling, stared coldly,
straight into Maigret's eyes.
âIf you say that, it is because you
know nothing. He was
in love, I'll admit. But not in love with
her, do you understand? He didn't even know her! He couldn't love her!
âHad he seen her ill, or ugly, had he
seen her weak and moaning? Did he cherish her faults, her little weaknesses?
âHe didn't know her.
âWhat he loved was women. Another
could have done just as well.
âDo you know what attracted him the
most? It was my name, my house, a certain luxury, a certain reputation. It was the
dresses she wore and her aura of mystery â¦
âI'll go further, Maigret
â¦'
For the first time, he used the familiar
âMaigret'.
âI am certain, you see, that I'm
not mistaken. Without me, without my love, he would not have loved her.'
âDid you talk to him for
long?'
âYes. In the situation he was in,
he couldn't refuse
to answer me, could he?
'
Now, he looked away, a little ashamed.
âI needed to know,' he confessed
quietly. âAll the details, you understand? ⦠All the sordid little details
â¦'
Up there, in the consulting room, with the
frosted-glass windows.
âI needed â¦'
A sort of modesty made Maigret stop him
going any further.
âWhen did you hear a noise?' he
asked.
And Bellamy sat up, emerging from his
nightmare.
âYou know that too, of course. I
guessed so yesterday. When you insisted on visiting my consulting room and especially
when you opened all the windows.'
âThat was the only
possible explanation. She
had to have seen
something.'
âContrary to what I told you on the
first day, my sister-in-law loved me. Was it really love? I sometimes wonder whether it
wasn't a kind of jealous rage against her sister â¦'
He let his thought hang in the air, and then
tried to explain it.
âMy mother ⦠Jeanne ⦠Lili
⦠It's a bit as if the women couldn't bear the sight of a certain
sort, a certain quality, a certain intensity of love. I was a bachelor for a long time.
My friends' wives paid me no particular attention. When I married Odette, there
were few who did not appear to be intrigued, then annoyed, then provocative. I never
encouraged my sister-in-law. I pretended not to see anything. I would rather not go into
details, but I noticed that there was something violently sexual about her feelings for
me.'
âDid she spy on you?'
âShe must have been curious on seeing
the light on in my office. She probably thought I was seeing a woman. She would have
been relieved, I think. It would have reinforced her hopes. I don't know how to
say this: in her mind it would have given her a hold over me.
âI opened the door, as I did earlier
on Jeanne. I've been hearing rustling behind closed doors since I was a child!
âI said the first thing that came into
my head, that I was with a patient, and I asked her to go back to the house.'
âDid she see who you were
with?'
âI don't know. Perhaps. It is
not important.'
âAnd did you stay
with him for a long time?'
âAround a quarter of an hour. He
apologized, and promised me he would not try to see Odette again. He spoke of killing
himselfâ'
âAnd you made him write?'
âYes.'
âUnder what pretext?'
Slight surprise mixed with reproach in
Bellamy's eyes, as he grew irritated with Maigret for being obtuse.
âThere was no need for a pretext. I
think that at first he didn't even know what he was writing.'
âYou had brought the postcard with
you?'
âYes.'
âAnd you were still in dinner
dress?'
âYes.'
âWhen did you â¦'
âJust as he finished writing. I took
the card and put it away.'
Away from the blood!
âI had sat him down in my chair. He
still had the penholder in his hand. I was standing behind him and, for a good while, I
had been toying with the silver-handled paper knife. It was very simple, Monsieur
Maigret. He couldn't live, could he? Especially after the confidences I had pried
out of him.'
His lips were barely trembling now, but
Maigret was no longer fooled.
âHe slumped to the floor. I had
planned everything. I had plenty of time. Again, I heard a noise on the other side of
the door. I only opened it a fraction. My sister-in-law could
just see
his feet. “What's going on?” she screamed. “I am ordering you to
go back inside the house. My patient has fainted, that's all.”
âI don't know whether she
believed me. I don't think she entirely believed me, even though my explanation
was plausible.
âAnd you see that I was right, at
first, to tell you that you had no charge against me. I defy you to find the
body.'
âWe always find them in the
end,' sighed Maigret.
âI spent part of the night getting rid
of it and removing all the traces. I went out to post the letter that I knew was in his
pocket, the letter to his parents. He also had one for his employersâ'
âAnd to send the picture postcard to
your mother-in-law.'
âThat is correct.'
âHow did your wife react, the next
day, when she woke up from her drugged sleep?'
âI didn't say anything to her.
She didn't dare ask me anything.'
âAnd until now, there has been no
discussion of anything between you?'
âNo.'
âAnd you have been in to see her every
day?'
âYes.'
âAnd you haven't given yourself
away?'
âNo. She was very weary, very
depressed. I ordered her to stay in bed.'
âDid you go to the recital with your
sister-in-law?'
âI didn't make any changes to
our routine.'
âWhat were you
planning to do?'
A vague wave of his hand.
âI don't know.'
âWhen did Lili discover the
knife?'
âSo it was her!' exclaimed
Bellamy. âI have wondered, from the beginning, what set you on the trail. I knew
your wife was in the hospital where Lili died.'
âShe sometimes talked in her
delirium.'
âAnd she mentioned the
knife?'
âThe silver knife.'
âShe was accusing me.'
He was taken aback, shocked.
âOn the contrary, she defended you.
She shouted to the nun that you shouldn't be arrested, that it was your wife who
was the monster.'
âOh!'
âShe also uttered words which the nuns
refused to repeat, filthy words, apparently.'
âThat confirms what I told
you.'
And, curious in spite of everything:
âWas it Sister Marie des Anges who
alerted you?'
âYes. I understood that in the car you
and your sister-in-law were driving home in, she had found a clue, probably the
knife.'
âThat is correct.'
It was strange to see him examining his case
with clarity, like a problem that had nothing to do with him, and yet Maigret was far
from fooled, he could sense that the doctor was on the alert for the slightest sound in
the house. It was as if he were counting the minutes during which he
was still entitled to conduct himself as a man like any other.
âYou see to what extent a ridiculous
sentiment can take on importance. I had destroyed all the evidence. There was nothing,
not the slightest clue against me. Nothing but that knife, which I had cleaned and put
back in its place on my desk. Why? Out of habit, because I liked the shape of the
handle. Perhaps too because I had always seen it there and I absently fiddled with it
during my consultations.
âThe next morning I saw it back in its
place and I frowned, because it reminded me of a very particular gesture.
âI remember wrapping it in a
handkerchief and putting it in my pocket. A little later, I took my car out. The knife
was making me uncomfortable and I stuffed it in the little compartment on the right of
the dashboard.
âI thought no more about it when, on
the way back from La Roche-sur-Yon, Lili opened the compartment to take out some
matches.
âShe grabbed the handkerchief and
opened it out.
âI can picture her, knife in hand,
looking at me with horrified eyes. Of course she was thinking about the feet she had
glimpsed the night before in my office. Maybe she knew more? Maybe she suspected her
sister's affair?
âI lunged at her to take the knife
away. Did she misinterpret my movement? I don't think so. She was obeying an
irrational impulse. As I grabbed the knife by the blade, she let go and opened the
door.
âI shouldn't have needed to kill
Lili either. You believe that, don't you?'
âI believe that.'
âAfterwards, because
of you, I had to defend myself.'
And Maigret said slowly:
âDefend what?'
âNot my life, you are aware of that.
Not even my freedom. That's what I want you to understand, as I think only you are
able to.
âEarlier, I gave up the fight, not
because of the danger, not because I felt you were close to the truth, but because I
realized that there would have to be other victims, that it would take too
many.'
His lips were barely trembling now, but
Maigret was no longer fooled.
âIncluding me.'
âPerhaps.'
âIt wasn't mercy that stopped
you.'
âNo. I have no more mercy.'
True, the picture was inconsistent, but
seeing him before his eyes, Maigret felt he was looking at a man who had been emptied of
all his substance, completely gutted.
He came and went, drank, talked like a
normal man, but there was no longer anything inside him, nothing but his mind which
continued to work through strength of habit. Similarly, so it is said, the heads of
those who have been decapitated continue to move their lips for a few minutes after the
execution.
âWhat's the point?' he
asked with a glance in the direction of the room he had locked so carefully earlier,
whose key was in his pocket.
A scruple prompted him to keep as closely as
possible to the truth.
âAnd yet â¦
Listen ⦠For the boy, I was almost within my rights ⦠All I needed to do was
catch them together, and any French jury would have acquitted me. In spite of that, I
took upon myself the despicable task of getting rid of the body and lying. Why? I am
going to tell you, ridiculous as it might seem to you: because I would have been
arrested anyway, because I would have been sent to prison for a few weeks or a few days,
because, for a few weeks or a few days, I
wouldn't have seen her
.
His smile, this time, was chillingly wry and
he poured himself another drink.
âThat is the explanation. It was the
same for the girl. You saw her here. I realized that you would find her, and question
her, and that through her you would get to the truth, to the truth which for me, always
meant the same thing:
not to see her â¦
'
His voice was choking. He still managed to
say:
âThat's all.'