Maigret and the Dead Girl

by Georges Simenon

  ‘ “I can’t right now,” she said, “I have to keep an eye on the table. There’s no reason we can’t talk here. Where did it happen?”

  ‘ “In Paris.”

  ‘ “Did she die in hospital?”

  ‘ “She was killed. She was found dead in the street.”

  ‘ “Was it an accident?”

  ‘ “She was murdered.”

  ‘She looked surprised, but she continued, from a distance, to listen to the voice of the croupier calling the shots. After a while, she interrupted me and said:

  ‘ “Do you mind?”

  ‘She went and put some chips on a space. I wondered if she was on drugs. Having thought it over, I don’t think so. She’s got to the point where she’s just a kind of machine, know what I mean?’

  Maigret said yes. He had seen others like her.

  ‘It took a long time to get anything out of her. She kept repeating:

  ‘ “Why don’t you wait until this evening, when I get back to Nice? I’ll tell you everything you want. There’s nothing to hide.”

  ‘Can you hear me, chief? Mind you, she wasn’t completely wrong, saying she couldn’t leave the casino. It’s almost a profession with these people. They have a bit of capital, enough to double their stake a few times. As long as they’re able to double it and their colour comes up in the end, they don’t risk anything. They just have to be content with winning small amounts, enough to live on and take their bus every day. The casino management knows them. There are a few men among them, but most of them are elderly women. When there are a lot of people and all the tables are occupied, they get rid of them by giving them what they’d end up winning in a few hours anyway.’

  ‘Does she live alone?’

  ‘Yes. I’m supposed to be going to see her at home when she gets back. She has a furnished room in Rue Greuze, near Boulevard Victor-Hugo. Her dresses are at least ten years old, and so are her hats. I asked her if she was ever married, and she replied:

  ‘ “That depends on what you call married.”

  ‘She told me she used to be an entertainer and that she toured the East and Asia Minor for years under the name Lili France. I suppose you know that, too?’

  In the old days, agencies in Paris had recruited such entertainers. It was just a matter of teaching them a few dance steps, or a few songs. Then they were sent to Turkey, Egypt, Beirut, where they worked as hostesses in cabarets.

  ‘Is that where her daughter was born?’

  ‘No. She was born in France, when her mother was nearly forty.’

  ‘In Nice?’

  ‘As far as I could gather. It isn’t easy to question someone who has her eyes fixed on a little roulette ball and whose fingers tense each time the ball stops. In the end, she laid down the law:

  ‘ “I haven’t done anything wrong, have I? So leave me alone. As long as I promise to answer your questions tonight …” ’

  ‘Is that all you found out?’

  ‘No. The girl left four years ago, leaving a letter saying she wouldn’t be coming back.’

  ‘She must have been about sixteen at the time?’

  ‘Sixteen exactly. She left on her birthday and has never been in touch with her mother since.’

  ‘Didn’t her mother inform the police?’

  ‘No. I don’t think she was upset to be rid of her.’

  ‘Did she ever find out what had become of her?’

  ‘She received a letter a few months later from a Mademoiselle Poré, who lives in Rue du Chemin-Vert, telling her she would do well to keep an eye on her daughter and preferably not leave her alone in Paris. I don’t know Mademoiselle Poré’s number. Madame Laboine promised to give it to me this evening.’

  ‘I know where to find her.’

  ‘So you know about this?’

  ‘More or less.’

  Maigret glanced at Priollet, who was listening. The same information was now coming in from several sides at the same time.

  ‘What time are you supposed to be meeting her?’

  ‘As soon as she gets back to Nice. It could be seven, it could be midnight. It all depends on the roulette wheel.’

  ‘Call me at home.’

  ‘OK, chief.’

  Maigret hung up.

  ‘According to what Féret has just told me from Nice,’ he said, ‘the person in whose apartment Jeanine Armenieu lived in Rue du Chemin-Vert is a Mademoiselle Poré. And this Mademoiselle Poré also knew Louise Laboine.’

  ‘Are you going over there?’

  Maigret opened the door. ‘Can you come with me, Janvier?’

  A few moments later, they were in the car. In Rue du Chemin-Vert, they stopped outside the herbalist’s and found Lucien’s wife behind the counter. It was a dark shop with a nice smell of St John’s wort.

  ‘What can I do for you, Monsieur Maigret?’

  ‘I understand you know Jeanine Armenieu?’

  ‘Did my husband tell you? I was talking to him about her at midday, because of the wedding I read about in the newspaper. She’s a damned attractive girl.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw her?’

  ‘At least three years ago. Hold on. It was before my husband got his pay rise. That must have been about three and a half years ago. She was quite young, but already well developed, already very much a woman, and all the men turned to look at her in the street.’

  ‘Did she live in the house next door?’

  ‘With Mademoiselle Poré, a good customer of mine who works for the telephone company. Mademoiselle Poré’s her aunt. I think in the end they didn’t get on, and the girl decided to live on her own.’

  ‘Do you think Mademoiselle Poré is at home?’

  ‘If I’m not mistaken, this week she starts at six in the morning and finishes at three. There’s a good chance you’ll find her in.’

  Soon afterwards, Maigret and Janvier entered the next building.

  ‘Mademoiselle Poré?’ they asked the concierge.

  ‘Second floor on the left. There’s already someone there.’

  The building didn’t have a lift. The staircase was dark. Instead of a doorbell, there was a soft rope hanging by the door that activated a shrill-sounding bell inside.

  The door opened immediately. A thin woman with pointed features and small black eyes looked at them severely.

  ‘What do you want?’

  Just as Maigret was about to reply, he glimpsed Inspector Lognon’s face in the half-light of the apartment.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lognon. I didn’t know you were here.’

  Inspector Hard-Done-By was looking at him with a resigned expression.

  ‘Do you two know each other?’ Mademoiselle Poré asked.

  She made up her mind to let them in. The apartment, which was very clean, smelled of cooking. Now there were four of them in a little dining room, not knowing where to put themselves.

  ‘Have you been here long, Lognon?’

  ‘Barely five minutes.’

  Now was not the time to ask him how he had discovered the address.

  ‘Have you already found out anything?’

  It was Mademoiselle Poré who replied:

  ‘I’ve started to tell him what I know, and I haven’t finished. The only reason I didn’t go to the police when I saw the photograph in the paper was because I wasn’t sure I recognized her. In three and a half years, people can change, especially at that age. Anyway, I don’t like getting involved in things that are none of my concern.’

  ‘Jeanine Armenieu is your niece, isn’t she?’

  ‘It isn’t her I was talking about, but her friend. As for Jeanine, you’re right, she’s the daughter of my half-brother, and I don’t think much of the way he brought her up.’

  ‘Is she from the South?’

  ‘If you call Lyon the South. My poor brother works in a mill. Since he lost his wife he hasn’t been the same.’

  ‘When did his wife die?’

  ‘Last year.’

  ‘Was it four years
ago that Jeanine Armenieu came to live in Paris?’

  ‘About four years ago, yes. Lyon wasn’t good enough for her any more. She was seventeen and wanted to live her own life. It seems they’re all like that these days. My brother wrote to tell me that he couldn’t keep his daughter at home any more, that she’d made up her mind to leave, and he asked me if I’d agree to put her up. I told him yes and that I might even be able to find her a job.’

  She articulated every syllable clearly as she spoke, as if what she was saying was of vital importance. Looking at them in turn, she asked suddenly:

  ‘How come, since you’re all from the police, you arrived separately?’

  What could they reply? Lognon bowed his head.

  ‘We belong to different departments,’ Maigret said.

  Really putting her foot in it, she looked at Maigret’s imposing figure and said:

  ‘I assume you’re the most important? What’s your rank?’

  ‘Detective chief inspector.’

  ‘Are you Detective Chief Inspector Maigret?’

  When he nodded, she moved a chair forwards for him.

  ‘Please sit down. I’m going to tell you everything. Where was I? Oh, yes, my half-brother’s letter. I can find it if you want. I keep all the letters I receive, including those from the family.’

  ‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.’

  ‘As you wish. To cut a long story short, I received this letter, I answered it, and one morning, about seven thirty, my niece arrived. That alone gives you an idea of her mentality. There are excellent day trains, but she was determined to take a night train. Because it’s more romantic, don’t you see? Fortunately, it was a week when I was on the late shift. We’ll pass over that. I won’t tell you how she was dressed, or how her hair was done. But I did have a quiet word with her about it, making no secret of the fact that if she didn’t want to be pointed out in the neighbourhood, she’d do best to change her style.

  ‘The apartment, which I’ve occupied for twenty-two years, isn’t large or luxurious, but all the same I have two bedrooms. I gave Jeanine one of them. For a week, I took her out to show her Paris.’

  ‘What were her plans?’

  ‘You’re asking me? Find a rich man, that was her plan. If I’m to believe what I read in the newspaper, she got what she wanted. Only I wouldn’t like to go through what she went through.’

  ‘Did she find a job?’

  ‘As a sales assistant in a shop on the Grands Boulevards. A leather goods shop near Place de l’Opéra.’

  ‘Did she stay there long?’

  She was determined to tell the story her own way and made no secret of the fact.

  ‘If you keep asking me questions, you’re going to make me lose my thread. I’ll tell you everything, don’t worry. Anyway, we both lived here. Or to be more precise, I imagined we both lived here. One week out of two, I’m free in the mornings, and the other week after three in the afternoon. Months went by. It was winter. That winter was very cold. I continued to do my shopping in the neighbourhood as I’ve always been in the habit of doing. And it’s because of the food that I started to have my suspicions, especially because of the butter, which was disappearing at an unusual speed. The bread, too. Sometimes, I couldn’t find in the pantry the leftover meat or cake I was sure I’d left there.

  ‘ “Was it you who ate the cutlet?”

  ‘ “Yes, aunt. I was a bit peckish during the night.”

  ‘To cut a long story short, it took me a while to understand. You want to know the truth? During all that time, without my knowing it, there was a third person in my apartment.

  ‘Not a man, I can reassure you about that immediately. A girl. The one whose photograph was in the newspaper, the one who was found dead on Place Vintimille. Which just goes to show that I was right to be worried, because that’s the kind of thing that doesn’t happen to people like you and me.’

  She didn’t even need to catch her breath. She remained standing, her back to the window, her hands crossed over her flat stomach, and the words and sentences just kept tumbling out in a kind of litany.

  ‘I’ve nearly finished, don’t worry. I don’t want to waste your time, because I’m sure you’re a very busy man.’

  She was addressing Maigret alone. In her eyes, Lognon was merely a kind of extra.

  ‘One morning as I was doing the housework, I dropped a reel of thread. It rolled under Jeanine’s bed, and I bent down to pick it up. I admit I screamed, but I wonder what you would have done if it had been you. There was someone under the bed, someone looking at me with eyes like a cat’s.

  ‘At least it was a woman. That was less scary. I went to fetch the poker, just in case, and said:

  ‘ “Come out of there!”

  ‘She wasn’t even Jeanine’s age, barely more than sixteen. But if you think she cried and begged me for forgiveness, you’re wrong. She kept looking at me as if, out of the two of us, I was the one who was a kind of monster.

  ‘ “Who let you in?”

  ‘ “I’m a friend of Jeanine’s.”

  ‘ “Is that a reason to hide under the bed? What were you doing under there?”

  ‘ “Waiting for you to leave.”

  ‘ “In order to do what?”

  ‘ “To also leave.”

  ‘Can you imagine, inspector? It had been going on for weeks, months. She’d arrived in Paris at the same time as my niece. They’d met on the train. They were travelling third class, and as they couldn’t sleep they spent the night telling each other their life stories. The girl, whose name was Louise, had just enough money to get by for two or three weeks.

  ‘She found a job, sticking stamps on envelopes in some office or other, but apparently her boss lost no time in making propositions to her, and she slapped him in the face.

  ‘At least that’s what she told me, but it isn’t necessarily the truth.

  ‘When she had no money left, and she was thrown out of the rooming house where she was staying, she went to see Jeanine, and Jeanine suggested that for a few nights, just until she found another job, she could sleep here.

  ‘Jeanine didn’t dare tell me. She let her friend into the apartment while I was out, and until I fell asleep Louise hid under my niece’s bed.

  ‘The weeks when I was on the second shift, she had to stay under the bed until two thirty, because I don’t start work until three.’

  From the start, Maigret had been making an effort not to smile, because the woman wouldn’t take her eyes off him and wouldn’t have appreciated the slightest display of irony.

  ‘To cut a long story short …’ she repeated.

  It was at least the third time she had said these words, and Maigret couldn’t help looking at his watch.

  ‘If I’m boring you …’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Do you have somewhere else to be?’

  ‘I still have time.’

  ‘I’ve nearly finished. I just want to point out that for months, everything I said was overheard by a third party, an adventuress I didn’t even know, who was watching all my comings and goings. I was leading my normal everyday life, thinking I was in my own home, without suspecting—’

  ‘Did you write to her mother?’

  ‘How do you know that? Did she tell you?’

  Lognon looked disillusioned. He had discovered the Poré lead, which had probably necessitated several long and exhausting walks across Paris. How many rain showers had he taken on his shoulders, without bothering to find shelter?

  Maigret, on the other hand, hadn’t even had to leave his office. The information came to him without his having to move a muscle. Now, not only had he arrived at the Poré lead almost at the same time as Lognon, but he seemed to know more about it.

  ‘I didn’t write to her mother immediately. First of all, I threw the girl out and told her never to set foot here again. I suppose I should have had her prosecuted.’

  ‘For breaking and entering?’

  ‘
And for the food she stole from me during those months. When my niece came home, I told her exactly what I thought of her and her friends. Jeanine wasn’t much better. I realized that when she left me a few weeks later and found a room in a hotel. Mademoiselle needed to be free, don’t you see? In order to receive men!’

  ‘Are you sure she received them?’

  ‘Why would she have felt the need to go and live in a hotel when she had board and lodging here? I questioned her about her friend. I obtained the name and address of her mother. I hesitated for nearly a week, then wrote her a letter. I’ve kept a copy of it. I don’t know if it had any effect. She certainly won’t be able to claim that I didn’t warn her! Do you want to see it?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary. Did you keep in touch with your niece after she left you?’

  ‘She never even came to say hello, never thought of sending me New Year’s greetings. I suppose all the younger generation are like that. The little I know about her, I heard from my brother, who’s completely taken in by her. She’s got him round her little finger. She writes to him from time to time, tells him she’s working, that her health is good, and each time promises to go and see him soon.’

  ‘Has she ever been back to Lyon?’

  ‘Once, for Christmas.’

  ‘Does she have any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘She had a brother, who died in a sanatorium. To cut a long story short …’

  Maigret was starting to count them, mechanically.

  ‘She’s of age. I assume she informed my brother she was getting married. He never told me. I read about it in the newspaper. The strangest thing is that her friend was killed the night she got married, don’t you think?’

  ‘Did they keep seeing each other?’

  ‘How should I know? If you want my opinion, though, a girl like Louise didn’t let go of her friend that easily. People like that, who sponge off others and hide under beds, won’t let themselves be deterred by anything. And this Santoni’s a really wealthy man …’

  ‘So you didn’t see your niece for three years?’

  ‘Just over three years. Once, last year, about July, I caught a glimpse of her on a train. It was at Gare Saint-Lazare. I was going to Mantes-la-Jolie for the day. It was very hot. I had some time off and was dying to see the countryside. A train was standing on the track next to ours, a luxury express, and I was told it was going to Deauville. Just as we were starting to move, I saw Jeanine in a compartment. She pointed me out to the person who was next to her, and at the last moment she gave me an ironic little wave.’