Maigret's Holiday by Georges Simenon Page A

Chief Inspector Mansuy spoken of the jealousy of the
doctor who, when he went out, even simply to play bridge, left his wife under the
supervision of his mother?
    But someone had come. And
immediately Bellamy had telephoned the elderly lady. If the girl had been visiting her,
presumably she would have told him straight away, although her son would have avoided
asking her about it in front of Maigret.
    As far as Maigret could tell, she
hadn’t mentioned the matter. And then Bellamy had left the room and headed towards
the door on the landing.
    What had the doctor just said?
    â€˜All this of course is no proof that the accident was indeed an accident,
but
…’
    And Maigret replied, almost without
thinking:
    â€˜I’m sure you never had any
intention of killing your sister-in-law …’
    If the nuance did not escape the doctor, he
refrained from commenting on it.
    â€˜Others are, and will be, less
positive than you. For my part, I wanted to open the door of this house to you. It will
remain open to you. I hope that you’ll see that there are no secrets here. Would
you like to have a look around my sister-in-law’s apartment? You’ll be able
to meet my mother, who must be up there right now.’
    He drained his glass and gave the visitor
time to finish his. Then he opened a door and they walked through a second, more
private, library where there was a green divan. Another door and, still facing the sea,
they entered a very soberly decorated room, verging on the austere, where most of the
space was taken up by a grand piano. On the walls were photographs of composers. Few
armchairs, almost no fabrics, a plain carpet.
    â€˜This was her
realm,’ said the doctor, walking towards a half-open door.
    He added, speaking to someone who was
invisible:
    â€˜Mother, I’d like to introduce
the famous Chief Inspector Maigret to you.’
    A sort of groan came from the adjacent room;
a tiny, very fat woman dressed in black from head to toe appeared, leaning on a walking
stick with an ivory knob. Her expression was wary, not particularly affable. She looked
the intruder up and down and merely said:
    â€˜Monsieur …’
    â€˜I apologize for disturbing you today,
madame, but your son insisted that I accompany him home.’
    She glowered at the doctor, who explained
with his faint smile:
    â€˜Monsieur Maigret is on holiday at Les
Sables d’Olonne. He is someone I have always wanted to meet and, since he’ll
be leaving us sooner or later, I was afraid of missing him. We were talking about Lili
and I was keen to show him what we call her sanctuary.’
    â€˜It’s very untidy,’ she
grumbled.
    All the same, she allowed them in and
Maigret found himself in a bedroom that was almost as bare, almost as unfeminine as the
music room, despite the clothes that had been taken out of a wardrobe and were heaped on
the bed. Among other things, there was a black velvet toque with no trimmings, without a
splash of colour, that must have been part of a sort of uniform for the girl.
    There was not a single photograph on the
walls, or on the furniture, nothing that suggested family life.
    â€˜These are the
surroundings she loved. She had no friends, male or female. Once a week she would spend
a day in Nantes where she would have a lesson with her teacher. When there was an
interesting concert in the region, I would drive her to it. Let us go down this way
…’
    Maigret bowed to the elderly lady and
followed his host down a spiral staircase. They were back on the ground floor, in a sort
of glass conservatory that opened on to a very well-maintained garden where a few
magnificent trees provided shade. To the right, a vast, airy kitchen could be
glimpsed.
    â€˜Do you sometimes regret having gone
into the police?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜I thought not. I wondered several
times when I was looking at you.’
    They walked through the drawing rooms and
Doctor Bellamy