Only the captain had a metal bed.
Under each of its legs a wooden block
had been placed.
âYou donât think
thatâs strange? Itâs as if â¦â
âGo on.â
All trace of ill-humour had gone.
Maigret saw the girlâs pale face lighten as her mind worked and her elation
grew.
âItâs as if ⦠but
youâll only laugh at me ⦠as if the bedâs been propped up so that
someone could hide underneath ⦠Without those pieces of wood, the bedstead would be
much too low, but the way it is now â¦â
And before he could stop her, she lay
down flat on the floor regardless of the dirt on the floor and slid under the
bed.
âThereâs enough room!â
she said.
âRight. You can come out
now.â
âJust a minute, if you donât
mind. Pass me that lamp for a minute, inspector.â
She went quiet. He couldnât work
out what she was doing. He lost patience.
âWell?â
She reappeared suddenly, her grey suit
covered with dust and eyes shining.
âPull the bed out ⦠Youâll
see.â
Her voice broke. Her hands shook.
Maigret yanked the bed away from the wall and looked at the floor.
âI canât see anything
â¦â
When she didnât answer he turned and saw that she
was crying.
âWhat did you see? Why are you
crying?â
âThere ⦠Read it.â
He had to bend down and place the lamp
against the wall. Then he could make out words scratched on the wood with a sharp
object, a pin or a nail.
Gaston â Octave â Pierre â Hen â¦
The last word was unfinished. And yet it
did not look as if it had been done in a hurry. Some of the letters must have taken
an hour to inscribe. There were flourishes, little strokes, the sort of doodling
thatâs done in an idle moment.
A comic note was struck by two
stagâs antlers above the name âOctaveâ.
The girl was sitting on the edge of the
bed, which had been pulled into the middle of the cabin. She was still crying, in
silence.
âVery curious!â muttered
Maigret. âIâd like to know if â¦â
At this point, she stood up and said
excitedly:
âOf course! Thatâs it! There
was a woman here! She was hiding! ⦠All the same, men would come looking for her â¦
Wasnât Captain Fallut called Octave?â
The inspector had rarely been so taken
off guard.
âDonât go jumping to
conclusions!â he said, though there was no conviction in his words.
âBut itâs all written down!
⦠The whole story is there! Four men who â¦â
What could he say to calm her down?
âLook, Iâve a lot of experience, so take it
from me. In police matters, you must always wait before making judgements ⦠Only
yesterday, you were telling me that Le Clinche is incapable of killing.â
âYes,â she sobbed.
âYes, and I still believe it! Isnât it â¦â
She still clung desperately to her
hopes.
âHis name is Pierre â¦â
âI know. So what? One sailor in
ten is called Pierre, and there were fifty men on board ⦠Thereâs also a
Gaston ⦠And a Henry â¦â
âSo what do you think?â
âNothing.â
âAre you going to tell the
examining magistrate about this? And to think it was me who â¦â
âCalm down! We havenât found
out anything, except that the bed was raised for one reason or another and that
someone has written names on a wall.â
âThere was a woman
there.â
âWhy a woman?â
âBut â¦â
âCome on. Madame Maigret is
waiting for us on the quay.â
âYouâre right.â
She wiped her tears, meek now, and
sniffled.
âI shouldnât have come ⦠But
I thought ⦠But itâs not possible that Pierre ⦠Listen! I
Under each of its legs a wooden block
had been placed.
âYou donât think
thatâs strange? Itâs as if â¦â
âGo on.â
All trace of ill-humour had gone.
Maigret saw the girlâs pale face lighten as her mind worked and her elation
grew.
âItâs as if ⦠but
youâll only laugh at me ⦠as if the bedâs been propped up so that
someone could hide underneath ⦠Without those pieces of wood, the bedstead would be
much too low, but the way it is now â¦â
And before he could stop her, she lay
down flat on the floor regardless of the dirt on the floor and slid under the
bed.
âThereâs enough room!â
she said.
âRight. You can come out
now.â
âJust a minute, if you donât
mind. Pass me that lamp for a minute, inspector.â
She went quiet. He couldnât work
out what she was doing. He lost patience.
âWell?â
She reappeared suddenly, her grey suit
covered with dust and eyes shining.
âPull the bed out ⦠Youâll
see.â
Her voice broke. Her hands shook.
Maigret yanked the bed away from the wall and looked at the floor.
âI canât see anything
â¦â
When she didnât answer he turned and saw that she
was crying.
âWhat did you see? Why are you
crying?â
âThere ⦠Read it.â
He had to bend down and place the lamp
against the wall. Then he could make out words scratched on the wood with a sharp
object, a pin or a nail.
Gaston â Octave â Pierre â Hen â¦
The last word was unfinished. And yet it
did not look as if it had been done in a hurry. Some of the letters must have taken
an hour to inscribe. There were flourishes, little strokes, the sort of doodling
thatâs done in an idle moment.
A comic note was struck by two
stagâs antlers above the name âOctaveâ.
The girl was sitting on the edge of the
bed, which had been pulled into the middle of the cabin. She was still crying, in
silence.
âVery curious!â muttered
Maigret. âIâd like to know if â¦â
At this point, she stood up and said
excitedly:
âOf course! Thatâs it! There
was a woman here! She was hiding! ⦠All the same, men would come looking for her â¦
Wasnât Captain Fallut called Octave?â
The inspector had rarely been so taken
off guard.
âDonât go jumping to
conclusions!â he said, though there was no conviction in his words.
âBut itâs all written down!
⦠The whole story is there! Four men who â¦â
What could he say to calm her down?
âLook, Iâve a lot of experience, so take it
from me. In police matters, you must always wait before making judgements ⦠Only
yesterday, you were telling me that Le Clinche is incapable of killing.â
âYes,â she sobbed.
âYes, and I still believe it! Isnât it â¦â
She still clung desperately to her
hopes.
âHis name is Pierre â¦â
âI know. So what? One sailor in
ten is called Pierre, and there were fifty men on board ⦠Thereâs also a
Gaston ⦠And a Henry â¦â
âSo what do you think?â
âNothing.â
âAre you going to tell the
examining magistrate about this? And to think it was me who â¦â
âCalm down! We havenât found
out anything, except that the bed was raised for one reason or another and that
someone has written names on a wall.â
âThere was a woman
there.â
âWhy a woman?â
âBut â¦â
âCome on. Madame Maigret is
waiting for us on the quay.â
âYouâre right.â
She wiped her tears, meek now, and
sniffled.
âI shouldnât have come ⦠But
I thought ⦠But itâs not possible that Pierre ⦠Listen! I
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