“I’m so sorry…It doesn’t really matter, as your daughter is saved and she will be able to tell you herself what she put in her letter…”
Was Naud taken in? Or was his attitude the same as that of certain patients who suspect they are not being told the truth, who only half-believe or don’t believe at all the doctor’s optimistic words, but who none the less long to hear these very words and so be reassured at whatever price?
“She is much better now, isn’t she?”
“She is asleep…The danger is over, it seems, thanks to your swift action…I thank you from the bottom of my heart, superintendent…”
The poor fellow seemed to be swimming about in the drawing room, as if it had suddenly become too large for him, like an article of clothing that has stretched and swamps the wearer. He looked at the bottle of armagnac, almost poured himself a glass, but a sense of modesty held him back and in the end Maigret had to do it for him. He helped himself to a glass at the same time.
“Here’s to your daughter and the end of all these misunderstandings…”
Naud looked up at him in wide-eyed astonishment, for “misunderstanding” was the very last word he had expected to hear.
“We have been chatting while you were upstairs…I think your friend Groult has something very important to say to you…Believe it or not, he is in the process of getting a divorce, though he hasn’t told a soul…”
Naud looked more and more at sea.
“Yes…And he has other plans…All this probably won’t make you jump for joy…Two wrongs don’t make a right, I know, but it’s a start, anyway…Well! I’m asleep on my feet…Didn’t someone say just now there was a morning train?”
“It leaves at 6:11,” said Cavre. “I think I’ll take it, what’s more…”
“We’ll travel together, then…and in the meantime, I am going to try and snatch a few hours’ sleep…”
He could not help saying to Alban as he went out:
“What a dirty trick!”
It was still foggy. Maigret point-blank refused to let anyone take him to the station and Etienne Naud had bowed before his wish.
“I don’t know how to thank you, superintendent. I haven’t behaved toward you as I should have…”
“You have treated me extremely well and I’ve shared some excellent meals with you.”
“Will you tell my brother-in-law…”
“Of course I will! Oh! One piece of advice, if I may be so bold…Don’t be too hard on your daughter…”
A fatherly flicker of a smile made Maigret realize that Naud understood perhaps far more than one might suppose.
“You’re a good sort, superintendent…You really are!…I am so grateful…”
“You’ll be grateful for the rest of your days, as a friend of mine used to say…Good-bye!…Send me a note from time to time…”
He walked away from the house which now seemed stilled, leaving the light behind him. Smoke rose from but two or three chimneys in the village, only to disappear into the fog. The dairy was working at full capacity and looked like a factory from a distance. Meanwhile, old Désiré was steering his boat laden with pitchers of milk along the canal.
Madame Retailleau would undoubtedly be asleep now, and the tiny postmistress too…Josaphat would be sleeping off his wine, and…
Right up to the last minute, Maigret was terrified he would bump into Louis. The lad had put so much faith in him and on discovering the superintendent had left would doubtless think to himself bitterly:
“He was one of them, too!”
Or else:
“They got the better of him!”
If they had got the better of him, they hadn’t done so with money or fine words, at any rate.
And as he stood at the end of the platform waiting for the train and keeping an eye on his suitcase beside him, he mumbled to himself:
“Look here, son, I wish the world could be clean and beautiful, just like you…And I get upset and angry when…”
Surprise, surprise! Cavre walked on to the platform and stood about fifty yards away from the superintendent.
“That fellow, there, for instance…He’s a scoundrel…He is capable of all number of dirty tricks…I know this for a fact…And yet I feel rather sorry for him…I’ve worked with him…I know his kind and what torments he goes through…What would have been the point of condemning Etienne Naud? And would he have been found guilty, anyway?…There is no concrete proof…The whole case would have stirred up a lot of dirt…Geneviève would have been called to the witness box…And Alban would not just have been worried. He would probably have been really pleased to be rid of his responsibilities…”
There was no sign of Louis, which was just as well, for in spite of everything Maigret was not proud of himself. This early morning departure of his smacked too much of an escape.
“You will understand later on…They are strong, as you say…They stick together…”
Having noticed Maigret, Justin Cavre came over to where he was standing but did not dare open a conversation.
“Do you hear, Cavre? I’ve been talking to myself, like an old…”
“Have you any news?”
“What sort of news? The girl is all right now. The father and mother…I don’t like you, Cavre…I pity you, but I don’t like you…It cannot be helped…There are some people you warm to and others you don’t…But I am going to tell you something…There is one expression in common parlance that I hate more than any other. It makes me wince and grind my teeth whenever I hear it…Do you know what it is?”
“No.”
“It will be all right in the end!”
The train came into the station and in the growing din Maigret shouted:
“But it will be all right in the end, you’ll see…”
Two years later, in fact, he discovered by chance that Alban Groult-Cotelle had married Mademoiselle Geneviève Naud in Argentina, where her father had started a huge cattle-rearing concern.
“Tough luck on our friend Albert, wasn’t it, Louis? But some poor devil had to be the scapegoat!”
Saint-Mesmin-Le-Vieux, March 3, 1943
Inspector Cadaver Page 15
