The Dancer at the Gai-Moulin (13 page)

‘But—'

‘I told you to stay where you are.
And now, young Delfosse, could you tell me what you were doing at Chez
Jeanne?'

‘They robbed me—'

‘But why were you there at all?
You got there yesterday afternoon, already the worse for drink. You tried to get the
waitress upstairs with you, and when she refused, you dragged in a woman from the
street.'

‘I am entitled to—'

‘Then you paid for drinks all
round. For hours, you were the big attraction. Until in the end you collapsed under
the table. The owner took pity on you, and had you put to bed.'

‘He robbed me.'

‘Well, what happened was that you
threw around money that didn't belong to you. To be precise, the money
you'd taken from Adèle's handbag in the morning.'

‘That's not true!'

‘And from the same money, you had
earlier bought a revolver. What for?'

‘Because I felt like buying a
revolver.'

Chabot's face was a sight to
behold. He was staring at his friend in indescribable panic, as if he couldn't
believe his ears. He seemed suddenly to be discovering a different, much more
frightening Delfosse. He would have liked to interrupt, to tell him to stop saying
such things.

‘Why did you steal money from
Adèle?'

‘She gave it me.'

‘That's not what she says.
She accuses you of taking it.'

‘She's lying! She gave it me
to get some train tickets, because we were going to go away together.'

It was as if he
were throwing out sentences at random, without worrying about contradicting
himself.

‘Perhaps you'll tell me now
that you weren't hiding, two nights ago, on the cellar steps in the
Gai-Moulin?'

Chabot leaned forward, as if to warn
him: ‘Look, no point denying it. I had to …'

But Delfosse was already standing up,
turning to his friend and shouting to Delvigne:

‘
He
told you that! He was
lying. He wanted me to stay with him. I don't
need
money! My
father's rich! I only have to ask him. It was all
his
idea—'

‘So you left at once, did
you?'

‘Yes.'

‘And you went straight
home?'

‘Yes.'

‘After eating mussels and chips in
a shop on Rue du Pont-d'Avroy?'

‘Er, yes, I think so.'

‘And at that point you were with
Chabot! The shop owner told us that!'

Chabot was twisting his hands and his
expression was imploring.

‘But I haven't
done
anything,' insisted Delfosse.

‘I didn't say you'd
done anything.'

‘So?'

‘So nothing.'

Delfosse breathed again, and glanced
down.

‘It was you that decided when the
two of you should come out from the cellar?'

‘No, that's not
true.'

‘Well, at
any rate you were the one who went out first, and were the first to see the
corpse.'

‘That's not true.'

‘René,' cried Jean, who
could bear it no longer.

Once more, the chief inspector ordered
him to sit back down and not to speak.

But a moment later he was stammering, as
if all his strength had left him:

‘I don't understand why
he's lying. We didn't kill anyone. We didn't even have time to
take any money. He went first. He lit a match. I hardly saw the Turk. I just
glimpsed a shape on the floor. But he even told me afterwards that he had one eye
open and the other shut.'

‘How fascinating!' said
Delfosse sarcastically.

At that moment, Chabot looked five years
younger than his friend, and the picture of indecision. He didn't know what to
think. And he knew he would not be able to convince anyone, being the weaker of the
two.

Delvigne looked at them each in
turn.

‘Let's see if you can get
your stories straight, children. You were scared stiff, so you rushed out in such a
hurry that you didn't close the door. And you went on to eat mussels and
chips.'

And suddenly he said, looking straight
at Delfosse:

‘Tell me, did you touch the
corpse?'

‘Me? Not on your life!'

‘And was there a wicker laundry
basket anywhere near it?'

‘No … I didn't see
anything.'

‘How many times have you taken
money from the till at your uncle's?'

‘Did
Chabot say that?'

And he clenched his fists.

‘Filthy bastard! He's got a
cheek … He's making things up. Because what
he
did, he
pinched money out of the petty cash. And I gave him enough to pay it
back.'

‘Stop it,' Chabot begged,
hands together.

‘You're lying, Chabot, you
know you are!'

‘No
you
are. But René,
listen! The murderer … has—'

‘What? What are you on
about?'

‘I'm telling you, the
murderer has been arrested. You—'

Delfosse looked at Delvigne and asked in
a hesitant voice:

‘What's he saying now? That
the … the murder—'

‘Don't you read the papers?
Of course, you were sleeping off the booze. And now you're going to tell me
whether you recognize the man who was at the Gai-Moulin that evening, and next day
followed you in the street.'

René mopped his forehead, without daring
to look across at his friend in the corner.

A bell rang in the office next door.
Someone must have been sent to fetch Maigret from a nearby room. The door opened and
he came in, escorted by Girard.

‘Get a move on! Stand here in the
light, please. Now Delfosse, do you recognize this man?'

‘Yes, it's him!'

‘And you had never seen him,
before that night?'

‘No!'

‘And he didn't speak to
you?'

‘No, I don't think
so.'

‘And for
example, when you left the Gai-Moulin, he wasn't prowling about outside?
Think. I want you to search your memory.'

‘Wait a bit. Yes. Maybe. There was
someone lurking in a corner, and now I think of it, perhaps it was him.'

‘Perhaps?'

‘Yes. Definitely, yes.'

Standing in the small office, Maigret
looked enormous. Yet when he spoke, his voice was very mild, almost gentle.

‘But you didn't have a
torch, did you?'

‘Well, no. Why?'

‘And you didn't turn the
lights on inside the club. So you must have struck a match? Can you tell me how far
you were from the corpse?'

‘I … I don't
know.'

‘Further than the distance across
this office?'

‘About the same.'

‘Right, four metres or so. And you
were scared! This was your first burglary. You saw a shape on the floor, and you
immediately assumed it was a corpse. You didn't go close to. You didn't
touch it. So you can't be sure the man wasn't still breathing. Who was
holding the match?'

‘I was,' Delfosse
confessed.

‘And did it burn for
long?'

‘No, I dropped it at
once.'

‘So this famous corpse was only
glimpsed for a few seconds. And you're sure are you, Delfosse, that you
recognized Graphopoulos?'

‘I saw his black hair.'

He looked round in astonishment. He was
suddenly
aware that he was undergoing a
real interrogation, and being manipulated. He muttered crossly:

‘I'm not going to answer
anyone but the chief inspector.'

Delvigne had picked up the telephone.
Delfosse shuddered when he heard the number he was requesting.

‘Hello? Monsieur Delfosse? I just
need to know whether you are still prepared to put up the fifty thousand francs
bail. I've spoken to the examining magistrate, and he's referred the
case to the criminal court. Yes. Right. No, don't trouble yourself. It's
better if we deal with it directly.'

René Delfosse still did not understand.
In his corner, Jean Chabot was sitting absolutely still.

‘So you continue to insist, do
you, Delfosse, that Chabot is responsible for everything?'

‘Yes.'

‘Very well, you are free to leave.
Off you go back home. Your father has promised he won't be too hard on you.
Wait a minute! Chabot, you're still claiming that Delfosse stole the money you
were trying to get rid of?'

‘It was him, he—'

‘Well, in that case, you'll
have to sort it out with him. Off with the pair of you! And don't draw
attention to yourselves, try to be as inconspicuous as possible.'

Maigret had automatically pulled his
pipe out of his pocket. But he didn't light it. He was gazing at the two young
men, who looked astounded, not knowing what to say or do. Chief Inspector Delvigne
had to stand up, and push them out of the door.

‘No fighting now. Remember
you're still answerable to the authorities.'

They walked
quickly across the outer office and as they reached the door, Delfosse was already
turning round angrily towards his companion and beginning to talk furiously, but his
words were lost.

The telephone rang.

‘Hello? Chief Inspector Delvigne?
Forgive me for bothering you, monsieur, but … this is Monsieur Chabot,
Jean's father. May I ask if there is any news?'

The chief
inspector smiled, put his meerschaum pipe on the table and winked at Maigret.

‘Delfosse has just left here, now,
and your son was with him.'

A startled silence.

‘Yes. They'll probably be
getting home in a few minutes. Hello? May I advise you not to come down too heavily
on the boy.'

It was raining. In the streets, Chabot
and Delfosse walked along the pavements pushing through the crowds who did not
recognize them. They were not carrying on a coherent conversation, but every hundred
metres or so, one or other would turn towards his companion, and snarl something,
receiving a hostile reply.

At the corner of Rue Puits-en-Soc, their
paths diverged, one going right, the other left, to reach their homes.

‘He's free, monsieur!
They've realized that he's innocent!'

And Monsieur Chabot was leaving his
office, getting on the number 4 tram and standing by the driver, whom he had known
for years.

‘Don't have the tram break
down, please! My son's free! The chief inspector himself telephoned me to say
it had all been a mistake.'

It was hard to tell whether he was
laughing or crying. At any rate, a mist before his eyes made it impossible for him
to see the familiar streets pass by.

‘And now I'll get home
before him! That would be best, because my wife might start scolding him. There are
things women don't understand … Tell me, just between ourselves, did
you ever believe for a second he was guilty?'

He was pitiful. He was begging the
driver to say no.

‘Oh me, you know.'

‘But you must have had an
opinion—'

‘Since my daughter went off and
married a good-for-nothing who got her pregnant, I'm not a great believer in
the youth of today.'

Maigret had sat down in the chair
vacated by Jean Chabot, facing Delvigne's desk, and had picked up the other
man's tobacco from the table.

‘Have you heard back from
Paris?'

‘How did you know?'

‘Oh, come on, you would have
guessed like I did. And the laundry basket? Has anyone discovered how it left the
Hôtel Moderne?'

‘No, nothing doing!'

Delvigne was grumpy. He felt irritated
with his Parisian counterpart.

‘Between ourselves, you're
playing us for fools, aren't you? You know something, come on, tell
me.'

‘No, it's my turn to say
nothing doing. I mean it! I have
more or
less the same facts to work on as you. In your place, I'd have done the same
and let those boys go. And for instance, I'd be trying to find out what
Graphopoulos stole from the Gai-Moulin.'

‘Stole?'

‘Or tried to steal.'

‘Him? The dead man?'

‘Or who he killed.'

‘I don't get it.'

‘Wait. Killed or tried to
kill—'

‘You see, you
do
have
some information I don't.'

‘No, very little. The only
difference between us is that you've been spending your time dashing about
between here and the courts, getting phone calls, seeing people, while I was able to
enjoy the peace and quiet of my cell in Saint-Léonard.'

‘So you thought about your
thirteen points,' said Delvigne, not without a trace of bitterness in his
voice.

‘Well, not all of them.
Some.'

‘For instance, the laundry
basket.'

Maigret gave an innocent smile.

‘I'd better come clean right
away. It was me. I took it out of the hotel.'

‘Empty?'

‘Not at all! With the corpse
inside.'

‘So you're saying that the
crime—'

‘… was committed inside the
Hôtel Moderne, in Graphopoulos's room. And that is what is so provoking about
the whole thing. Do you have a match?'