‘Are you expecting any complications?’
‘I shan’t speak ill of my mother-in-law Montet. She was a good woman, but she had her neuroses, especially as she grew older. Has anyone told you that her husband had a construction company? He built half the houses in Dieppe as well as numerous public buildings. Most of the fortune he left is in property. My mother-in-law ran things herself after her husband’s death. But she would never agree to carry out repairs. Hence a huge number of lawsuits with tenants, the town council and even with the tax authorities.’
‘One question, Monsieur Besson. Did your mother-in-law and Valentine see each other?’
Maigret drank another coffee laced with alcohol as he watched Charles Besson, who at close quarters seemed weaker, more lacking in character.
‘Sadly they didn’t. They always refused to meet.’
‘Both of them?’
‘That’s to say that it was my wife’s mother who refused to have anything to do with Valentine. It’s a ridiculous business. When I introduced Mimi to her, Valentine looked closely at her hands and said something like: “You probably have your father’s hands, don’t you?”
‘“Why?”
‘“Because I suppose that a builder’s hands must be bigger and broader than average.”
‘It’s ridiculous, you see! True, my father-in-law started out as a builder, but he wasn’t one for long. Even so, he remained rather foul-mouthed. I think he did it on purpose, because he was very rich; he became an important figure in Dieppe and the entire region, and he enjoyed shocking people with his dress and his language.
‘My mother-in-law retorted in the same vein. “It’s better than being the daughter of a fisherman who drank himself to death!”
‘Then she reminded Valentine that she’d been a sales assistant at the Seuret sisters’ patisserie.’
‘Accusing her of not behaving in an exemplary manner?’
‘Yes. She pointed out the age difference between Valentine and her husband. In short, they always refused to speak to one another.’
He added with a shrug:
‘All families have a similar story, don’t they? But all the same, they’re both good women in their own way.’
‘Are you very fond of Valentine?’
‘Very. She’s always been very kind to me.’
‘What about your wife?’
‘Mimi is less taken with her, naturally.’
‘Do they argue?’
‘They don’t see each other very often, once a year on average. Before coming I always advise Mimi to be patient, reminding her that Valentine is elderly. She promises, but there’s always a bittersweet exchange of words.’
‘Last Sunday as well?’
‘I don’t know. I took the children for a walk.’
And speaking of children, what did Charles’ children think of their father?
Doubtless, like most children, that he was a strong, clever man, able to protect them and guide them. They couldn’t see that he was weak, ill adjusted to reality.
Mimi probably said:
‘He’s such a kind man!’
Because he loved everybody, watched life unfold with big, innocent, avid eyes. He truly would have liked to be strong, clever and the best of men!
And he had his ideas, he was bursting with ideas. If he didn’t pull them all off, and if, when he did, they ended up in disaster, it was because life was against him.
But he’d managed to get himself elected deputy, hadn’t he? Now he would be recognized for the man he was. The entire country would know his name; he would be made minister, become a great statesman.
‘When you were young, were you ever in love with Valentine? After all, she was barely ten years older than you.’
He looked offended, indignant.
‘Absolutely no way!’
‘And later, were you not in love with Arlette?’
‘I always thought of her as a sister.’
He still saw the world and men as if in a picture. He took a cigar from his pocket, surprised that Maigret didn’t smoke one too, lit it carefully, meticulously, and slowly drew in the smoke, which he then exhaled, and watched as it rose into the golden air.
‘Shall we go and sit on the terrace? There are comfortable armchairs overlooking the beach. We’ll be able to see the sea.’
He lived by the sea all year round, but he always derived the same pleasure from watching it, ensconced in a comfortable chair – well dressed, clean shaven, with all the airs of an important, prosperous man.
‘What about your brother Théo?’
‘Are you asking me if he was in love with Valentine?’
‘Yes.’
‘Absolutely not. I never noticed anything of the kind.’
‘And with Arlette?’
‘Even less. I was still a kid when Théo was already having affairs, especially with what I call “women of easy virtue”.’
‘Wasn’t Arlette in love with him either?’
‘Perhaps she had a crush on him, as my wife would say when talking about little girls’ infatuations. You know how it is. Nothing of any consequence. The proof being that she soon got married.’
‘Were you not surprised?’
‘About what?’
‘About her marriage to Julien Sudre.’
‘No. Perhaps a little, because he wasn’t rich and we thought that Arlette would find it hard to live without luxuries. There was a time when she was quite a snob. She got over it. I think she really fell in love with Julien. He was very noble. My father wanted to give Arlette a generous dowry, because in those days we were very well-off, and he said no.’
‘Arlette too?’
‘Yes. So overnight she had to adapt to a modest lifestyle. As we did, but later on.’
‘Do your wife and Arlette get on well?’
‘I think so. Even though they are very different. Mimi has children, a whole household to run. She rarely goes out.’
‘Wouldn’t she like to go out? Has she never wanted to live in Paris?’
‘She hates Paris.’
‘Doesn’t she miss Dieppe either?’
‘Maybe a little. Unfortunately, now that I’m a deputy we can’t go and live there. My constituents wouldn’t understand.’
Charles Besson’s words were perfectly in keeping with the surroundings, with the picture-postcard blue sea, the dazzling white cliffs and the bathers filing down to the beach as if for a photograph.
Ultimately, did all this really exist or was it make-believe? Was it this smug, paunchy fellow who was right?
Was young Rose dead, or not?
‘Were you not surprised, last Sunday, to find your brother here?’
‘A little, at first. I thought he was in Deauville, or rather, as it’s now September and the hunting season has begun, in some chateau in Sologne. Théo, you know, continues to move in society circles. When he still had a fortune, he lived extravagantly and was very generous to his friends. They haven’t forgotten, and now he’s their guest.’
This put things in a new light! A few words and they were no longer talking about the same Théo.
‘Does he have any means?’
‘Financial means? I don’t know. Very few if he does have any. But he has no outgoings. He’s unmarried.’
A hint of envy, all the same, in the voice of the big man burdened with his four kids.
‘He’s always very elegant, but that’s because his clothes last him a long time. He’s often invited by his high-society friends. I think he dabbles in the occasional business deal. He’s a very clever fellow, you know, and had he wanted to …’
Charles too, no doubt, had he wanted to …
‘Did he agree to go to Valentine’s with you straight away?’
‘No, not straight away.’
‘Did he tell you why he was here?’
‘I hope, inspector, that you don’t suspect Théo?’
‘I suspect no one, Monsieur Besson. We are simply having a chat. I am trying to
piece together as accurate a picture of the family as I can.’
‘Well, if you want my opinion, Théo is a sentimentalist, although he’d never admit it. He felt nostalgic for Étretat, where we used to spend our holidays when we were children. Do you know that we used to come here when my mother was alive?’
‘I understand.’
‘I pointed out to him that there was no reason to remain on bad terms with Valentine and that she didn’t hold a grudge against him either. In the end he came back to the house with me.’
‘How did he behave?’
‘Like a man of the world. A bit awkward at first. When he saw our gifts, he apologized for having come empty-handed.’
‘And towards Arlette?’
‘What? There was never anything between him and Arlette.’
‘So when you sat down to dinner, the entire family was there.’
‘Except for Sudre, who hadn’t been able to come.’
‘I’d forgotten. And you didn’t notice anything, no little detail that could have made you suspicious?’
‘Absolutely nothing. Even though I’m generally quite observant.’
Fool! But how nice it is sometimes to be a fool!
‘I have to say that Mimi and I were pretty busy with the children. At home they’re relatively quiet. But when we take them out, they get over-excited. You’ve seen how tiny Valentine’s house is. The dining room was so full that you couldn’t turn around. The baby, who normally sleeps most of the time, screamed for over an hour, and it was driving us all mad. We had to put the little one to sleep in my stepmother’s bed, and we didn’t know what to do with the older ones.’
‘Did you know young Rose well?’
‘I saw her every time I came to La Bicoque. She seemed like a good girl, a little taciturn, like a lot of the folk around here. But once you got to know her—’
‘So in all you’d met her half a dozen times?’
‘A little more.’
‘Did you ever have a conversation with her?’
‘As one does with a servant, about the weather, about food. She was a good cook and Valentine enjoyed her food. I wonder what she’s going to do now. You see, inspector, as I listen to you and answer your questions, I’m a little worried that you’re on the wrong track.’
Maigret remained impassive, gently puffing on his pipe as he watched a tiny ship moving imperceptibly across the curve of the horizon.
‘In fact it’s because I foresaw it, I mean I foresaw the direction the police investigation would take, that I contacted the minister and asked him to do me the kindness of putting you in charge of the case.’
‘Thank you very much.’
‘Not at all! Thank you for coming.
‘Although I have always been a very busy man, I have had the occasion, like everyone else, to read detective novels.
‘No need to ask whether I take them seriously. In detective novels everyone has something to hide, everyone has something on their conscience, and you realize that the people who outwardly seem the simplest actually have a complicated life.
‘Now that you are acquainted with the family, I’d like to think it’s clear that none of us had any reason to resent my stepmother, especially not enough to think of killing her in cold blood.
‘Arsenic was found in Rose’s stomach, and it seems to me that there was no doubt, if I understand correctly, that it was in the glass containing Valentine’s medicine.
‘I’m not arguing with the experts’ findings, I’m sure they know what they’re doing, even though they have often been known to get things wrong and even to argue among themselves.
‘You’ve met Arlette. You’ve glimpsed Théo from a distance. You’re seeing me. As for Mimi, were it not for the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her, I’d have brought her with me and you would have seen that she wouldn’t hurt a fly.
‘We were all happy on Sunday. And I would go so far as to say, even if people laugh at me, that the tragedy could only have been an accident.
‘Do you believe in ghosts?’
Besson was delighted with his surprise question, which he threw out with a knowing smile, in the same way that he’d have tripped up a political adversary.
‘I don’t.’
‘Neither do I. All the same, every year there are reports of a haunted house somewhere or other in France and for days, sometimes weeks, the entire population is in a frenzy. In one village in my constituency I’ve seen all the local gendarmes and police called out, as well as experts, who could find no reason why certain pieces of furniture moved each night. But eventually an explanation emerges, usually one that’s so simple that everyone ends up laughing about it.’
‘Rose is dead, isn’t she?’
‘I know. I shan’t go so far as to suggest that she could have poisoned herself.’
‘Doctor Jolly, who was her general practitioner, states that she was sound in body and mind. There is nothing, in her relations or in her life, to suggest that she wanted to commit suicide. Don’t forget that the poison was in the glass when Valentine wanted to take her medicine, because she found it too bitter and didn’t drink it.’
‘Agreed. I’m not implying anything. I am simply saying this: no one present had anything to gain from killing a harmless old lady.’
‘Are you aware that there was a man in the house that night?’
He turned slightly red and made a dismissive gesture as if to brush away a tiresome fly.
‘So I’ve been told. I found it hard to believe. But, after all, Arlette is thirty-eight. She’s extraordinarily beautiful and is subjected to more temptations than others. Perhaps it’s not as serious as we think? I hope, in any case, that Julien never finds out.’
‘He probably never will.’
‘You see, Monsieur Maigret, casting suspicion on those who were present is what anyone would have done. But you’re different. From what I know, you’ll dig deep; you’ll go beyond surface appearances and I am convinced that, as with the ghosts, you’ll discover a perfectly simple truth.’
‘That Rose isn’t dead, for example?’
Charles Besson laughed, a little uncertain, however, as to whether Maigret was joking.
‘And anyway, how does a person get hold of arsenic? In what form?’
‘Don’t forget that your father was a pharmacist, that Théo, from what I’ve been told, studied chemistry, that you yourself once worked in a laboratory – in other words, everyone in the family has some pharmaceutical knowledge.’
‘That hadn’t occurred to me, but it doesn’t change anything as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Of course not.’
‘Nor does it mean that it couldn’t have been an outsider.’
‘A vagrant, for example?’
‘Why not?’
‘Someone who would have waited until the house was full of people to break in through an upstairs window and pour poison into a glass? Because that’s also an important aspect of the question. The poison wasn’t put into the bottle of medicine, in which no traces were found, but into the glass.’
‘You can see it makes no sense!’
‘Young Rose is dead.’
‘So, what do you think? Tell me your opinion, man to man. I promise you of course that I shan’t do anything or repeat anything that might hamper your investigation. Who?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘How?’
‘We’ll find out when I’ve answered the first two questions.’
‘Do you have any suspicions?’
He was uncomfortable now, in his armchair, chewing on the end of his cigar, which had gone out and must have tasted acrid. Perhaps, as happened to Maigret, he was clinging to his illusions, to his idea of life which was being shattered. He was an almost pathetic sight, anxious, churned up, watching Maigret’s face for the slightest indication.
‘Someone killed,’ said Maigret.
‘There seems
to be no doubt about that.’
‘People don’t kill without a reason, especially when using poison, which means that it couldn’t have been a sudden act of anger or passion. During the course of my career I have not seen a single poisoning that was not committed by someone who had something to gain.’
‘But who on earth would’ve had anything to gain, for goodness sake?’
Now he was becoming heated.
‘That I don’t know yet.’
‘Everything my stepmother owns is on an annuity, apart from a few pieces of furniture and knick-knacks.’
‘I know.’
‘I don’t need money, especially at the moment. Neither does Arlette. And Théo doesn’t care about money.’
‘So I’ve been told several times.’
‘So?’
‘So, nothing. I’m only at the start of my investigation, Monsieur Besson. You asked for me and I’ve come. Valentine also asked me to handle the case.’
‘Did she write to you?’
‘Neither wrote nor telephoned. She came to see me in Paris.’
‘I knew she’d gone to Paris, but I thought it was to visit her daughter.’
‘She came to the Police Judiciaire and was in my office while I was receiving a briefing from the minister.’
‘That’s strange.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I wouldn’t have expected her to have heard of you.’
‘She told me that she followed most of my cases in the newspapers and that she had cut out some articles. What’s bothering you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You prefer not to say?’
‘Nothing particular, I assure you, except that I have never known my stepmother to read a newspaper. She doesn’t subscribe to any, has always refused to have a wireless and doesn’t even have a telephone. She has no interest in what is happening elsewhere.’
‘You see how life is full of surprises.’
‘Where does this get us?’
‘We’ll find out later. Perhaps nowhere. Are you thirsty?’
‘Is Théo still in Étretat?’
Maigret and the Old Lady Page 8
