about to sue him over fifty francs, was I? To your very good health! Only the other day he had the nerve to come back â¦Â thatâs all I know!â
âWhat day was it?â
âErm â¦Â at the weekend.â
âOn Saturday, yes. In fact he called twice, if I remember correctly â¦â
âYouâre brilliant, inspector! Yes, youâre right, twice. I refused to see him in the morning. But he buttonholed me in the grounds that afternoon.â
âHe was after money?â
âYou bet he was, but Iâd be hard put to it to say what for. However, he was still on about the restoration of the monarchy. Come on, drink up! Itâs not worth leaving any in the bottle.
Good lord â¦Â you donât think he committed suicide, do you? He must have been at the end of his tether â¦â
âThe shot was fired from seven metres away, and the revolver hasnât been found.â
âIn that case, then he didnât. What do you think of it? A vagrant who happened to be passing and â¦?â
âThatâs difficult to accept. The windows of the room look out on a lane that leads only to your property.â
âBy a disused entrance,â objected Monsieur de Saint-Hilaire. âItâs many years since the gate to the nettle lane was last opened, and Iâd be hard put to it to say where the key is â¦Â How about getting another
bottle brought out?â
âNo, thank you â¦Â I donât suppose you heard anything?â
âWhat kind of thing?â
âThe gun being fired on Saturday evening.â
âNo, nothing like that. I go to bed early. I didnât hear about the crime until the next morning, when my manservant told me.â
âAnd you didnât think of mentioning Monsieur Clémentâs visit to the police?â
âGood heavens, no â¦â He tried to laugh, covering up for his uneasiness. âI told myself the poor devil had been punished enough anyway. When you have a name like mine, you donât much like seeing it in the papers
anywhere but the society column.â
Maigret still had the same vague and annoying sensation, coming back again and again like a musical chorus: the sensation that everything touching on the death of
Ãmile Gallet creaked, sounded out of
tune and wrong, from the dead man himself to his sonâs voice, and Tiburce de Saint-Hilaireâs laughter.
âYouâre staying at old Tardivonâs place, arenât you? Did you know he used to be a cook at the chateau? Heâs made a packet since then. Are you sure you wonât have another little glass? â¦Â That fool of a
gardener has done something or other to the mechanical sprinkler, and I was just trying to put it right when you turned up â¦Â out here in the country we have to do everything for ourselves. Well, if youâre here for a few days, inspector, come and have a chat with me in the
evening now and then. Life in the hotel must be tedious with all those tourists â¦â
At the gate, he took the hand that Maigret had not offered him and shook it with excessive cordiality.
Walking along the side of the Loire, Maigret made a mental note of two points. First, Tiburce de Saint-Hilaire, who must know about the town crierâs announcement and thus the importance that the police ascribed to what Monsieur Clément did
on the Saturday, had expected to be interrogated and had not in fact said anything until he realized that his interrogator was up to date with the facts already.
Second, he had lied at least once. He had said that on Saturday morning he had refused to see the visitor, who then
buttonholed him in the grounds
.
However, it was the morning when the two men went walking in the grounds. And in the afternoon they had certainly been engaged in conversation
in the drawing room of the villa
.
So the rest of it could also be untrue, the
âWhat day was it?â
âErm â¦Â at the weekend.â
âOn Saturday, yes. In fact he called twice, if I remember correctly â¦â
âYouâre brilliant, inspector! Yes, youâre right, twice. I refused to see him in the morning. But he buttonholed me in the grounds that afternoon.â
âHe was after money?â
âYou bet he was, but Iâd be hard put to it to say what for. However, he was still on about the restoration of the monarchy. Come on, drink up! Itâs not worth leaving any in the bottle.
Good lord â¦Â you donât think he committed suicide, do you? He must have been at the end of his tether â¦â
âThe shot was fired from seven metres away, and the revolver hasnât been found.â
âIn that case, then he didnât. What do you think of it? A vagrant who happened to be passing and â¦?â
âThatâs difficult to accept. The windows of the room look out on a lane that leads only to your property.â
âBy a disused entrance,â objected Monsieur de Saint-Hilaire. âItâs many years since the gate to the nettle lane was last opened, and Iâd be hard put to it to say where the key is â¦Â How about getting another
bottle brought out?â
âNo, thank you â¦Â I donât suppose you heard anything?â
âWhat kind of thing?â
âThe gun being fired on Saturday evening.â
âNo, nothing like that. I go to bed early. I didnât hear about the crime until the next morning, when my manservant told me.â
âAnd you didnât think of mentioning Monsieur Clémentâs visit to the police?â
âGood heavens, no â¦â He tried to laugh, covering up for his uneasiness. âI told myself the poor devil had been punished enough anyway. When you have a name like mine, you donât much like seeing it in the papers
anywhere but the society column.â
Maigret still had the same vague and annoying sensation, coming back again and again like a musical chorus: the sensation that everything touching on the death of
Ãmile Gallet creaked, sounded out of
tune and wrong, from the dead man himself to his sonâs voice, and Tiburce de Saint-Hilaireâs laughter.
âYouâre staying at old Tardivonâs place, arenât you? Did you know he used to be a cook at the chateau? Heâs made a packet since then. Are you sure you wonât have another little glass? â¦Â That fool of a
gardener has done something or other to the mechanical sprinkler, and I was just trying to put it right when you turned up â¦Â out here in the country we have to do everything for ourselves. Well, if youâre here for a few days, inspector, come and have a chat with me in the
evening now and then. Life in the hotel must be tedious with all those tourists â¦â
At the gate, he took the hand that Maigret had not offered him and shook it with excessive cordiality.
Walking along the side of the Loire, Maigret made a mental note of two points. First, Tiburce de Saint-Hilaire, who must know about the town crierâs announcement and thus the importance that the police ascribed to what Monsieur Clément did
on the Saturday, had expected to be interrogated and had not in fact said anything until he realized that his interrogator was up to date with the facts already.
Second, he had lied at least once. He had said that on Saturday morning he had refused to see the visitor, who then
buttonholed him in the grounds
.
However, it was the morning when the two men went walking in the grounds. And in the afternoon they had certainly been engaged in conversation
in the drawing room of the villa
.
So the rest of it could also be untrue, the
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