incongruous in the middle of the flowers and
vegetables. Maigret arrived at almost the same time and saw Boutigues arriving in haste,
with his waistcoat unbuttoned, having only got out of bed ten minutes earlier.
‘We’ve got time for a quick
drink … There’s no one here yet …’
And he went into a small bar and ordered a
rum.
‘It’s been really complicated,
you know. The son forgot to tell us how much he wanted to spend on the coffin. I phoned
him yesterday evening. He said he didn’t care about the price as long as it was of
good quality. But there wasn’t a solid-oak coffin in the whole of Antibes. We had
to bring one in from Cannes at eleven o’clock last night … Thenthere was the ceremony to think about … Should it be a church
ceremony or not? … I phoned the Provençal and they told me Brown had already gone
to bed … I did my best … As you can see …’
He pointed to a church a hundred metres
away across the market square, whose door was draped in black.
Maigret didn’t want to say anything,
but he had got the impression that Brown Junior was a Protestant rather than a
Catholic.
The bar was on the corner of a small street
and had a door on each side. Just as Maigret and Boutigues were leaving by one door, a
man entered by the other, and the inspector caught his eye.
It was Joseph, the waiter from Cannes, who
was in two minds whether to wave or not and in the end settled on a half-hearted
gesture. Maigret assumed that Joseph had brought Jaja and Sylvie from Cannes. He was
right. They were walking in front of him, heading towards the hearse. Jaja was out of
breath already. And Sylvie, who seemed anxious not to arrive late, was tugging her
along.
Sylvie was wearing her little blue suit
that made her look like a smart young woman. As for Jaja, she was unused to walking.
Maybe her feet were hurting, or her legs were swollen. She was dressed in very shiny
black silk. They must have both had to get up around five in the morning to catch the
first bus. An unprecedented event, no doubt, at the Liberty Bar!
Boutigues asked him:
‘Who are they?’
‘I don’t know
…’ Maigret replied vaguely.
But at that moment the two women stopped
and turned round, as they had reached the hearse. And when Jaja spotted Maigret, she
dashed over to him.
‘We’re not late, are we?
… Where is he?’
Sylvie had rings round her eyes and was
still giving Maigret an unfriendly look.
‘Did Joseph come with you?’
She was about to lie.
‘Who told you that?’
Boutigues was standing some distance away.
Maigret spotted a taxi which, unable to cross the square because of the crowded market,
had stopped at the corner of a street.
The two women who got out were an amazing
sight, for they were in full mourning regalia, with crepe veils almost brushing the
ground.
It was so unexpected, in the sunshine, amid
the buzz of joyous life! Maigret murmured to Jaja:
‘Allow me …’
Boutigues was troubled. He asked the head
pallbearer, who wanted to go to fetch the coffin, to wait a moment.
‘We’re not too late, are
we?’ the old woman asked. ‘Our taxi failed to turn up …’
And then immediately her gaze fell on Jaja
and Sylvie.
‘Who are they?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I assume they won’t interfere
…’
Another taxi pulled up, its door opening
before it had
come to a complete stop, and from it Harry Brown emerged,
impeccably dressed in black, his blond hair well groomed, his complexion fresh. His
secretary, also in black, accompanied him, carrying a wreath of natural flowers.
At the same moment, Maigret noticed that
Sylvie had disappeared. He spotted her in the middle of the market, next to a
flowerseller, and when she returned she was carrying an enormous bouquet of Nice
violets.
Did this inspire the two Martini women with
the same idea? They were clearly having a discussion as they approached the
vegetables. Maigret arrived at almost the same time and saw Boutigues arriving in haste,
with his waistcoat unbuttoned, having only got out of bed ten minutes earlier.
‘We’ve got time for a quick
drink … There’s no one here yet …’
And he went into a small bar and ordered a
rum.
‘It’s been really complicated,
you know. The son forgot to tell us how much he wanted to spend on the coffin. I phoned
him yesterday evening. He said he didn’t care about the price as long as it was of
good quality. But there wasn’t a solid-oak coffin in the whole of Antibes. We had
to bring one in from Cannes at eleven o’clock last night … Thenthere was the ceremony to think about … Should it be a church
ceremony or not? … I phoned the Provençal and they told me Brown had already gone
to bed … I did my best … As you can see …’
He pointed to a church a hundred metres
away across the market square, whose door was draped in black.
Maigret didn’t want to say anything,
but he had got the impression that Brown Junior was a Protestant rather than a
Catholic.
The bar was on the corner of a small street
and had a door on each side. Just as Maigret and Boutigues were leaving by one door, a
man entered by the other, and the inspector caught his eye.
It was Joseph, the waiter from Cannes, who
was in two minds whether to wave or not and in the end settled on a half-hearted
gesture. Maigret assumed that Joseph had brought Jaja and Sylvie from Cannes. He was
right. They were walking in front of him, heading towards the hearse. Jaja was out of
breath already. And Sylvie, who seemed anxious not to arrive late, was tugging her
along.
Sylvie was wearing her little blue suit
that made her look like a smart young woman. As for Jaja, she was unused to walking.
Maybe her feet were hurting, or her legs were swollen. She was dressed in very shiny
black silk. They must have both had to get up around five in the morning to catch the
first bus. An unprecedented event, no doubt, at the Liberty Bar!
Boutigues asked him:
‘Who are they?’
‘I don’t know
…’ Maigret replied vaguely.
But at that moment the two women stopped
and turned round, as they had reached the hearse. And when Jaja spotted Maigret, she
dashed over to him.
‘We’re not late, are we?
… Where is he?’
Sylvie had rings round her eyes and was
still giving Maigret an unfriendly look.
‘Did Joseph come with you?’
She was about to lie.
‘Who told you that?’
Boutigues was standing some distance away.
Maigret spotted a taxi which, unable to cross the square because of the crowded market,
had stopped at the corner of a street.
The two women who got out were an amazing
sight, for they were in full mourning regalia, with crepe veils almost brushing the
ground.
It was so unexpected, in the sunshine, amid
the buzz of joyous life! Maigret murmured to Jaja:
‘Allow me …’
Boutigues was troubled. He asked the head
pallbearer, who wanted to go to fetch the coffin, to wait a moment.
‘We’re not too late, are
we?’ the old woman asked. ‘Our taxi failed to turn up …’
And then immediately her gaze fell on Jaja
and Sylvie.
‘Who are they?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I assume they won’t interfere
…’
Another taxi pulled up, its door opening
before it had
come to a complete stop, and from it Harry Brown emerged,
impeccably dressed in black, his blond hair well groomed, his complexion fresh. His
secretary, also in black, accompanied him, carrying a wreath of natural flowers.
At the same moment, Maigret noticed that
Sylvie had disappeared. He spotted her in the middle of the market, next to a
flowerseller, and when she returned she was carrying an enormous bouquet of Nice
violets.
Did this inspire the two Martini women with
the same idea? They were clearly having a discussion as they approached the
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