still
sat out, along with some sturdy but gummy-looking glasses and a half-bottle of
red.
On either side of the cabin were wide,
rectangular recesses, like cupboards without doors, for the beds of the captain and
Louis, the first mate. Unmade beds, with dirty boots and clothing tossed on to them.
Whiffs of tar, alcohol, cooking and stuffy bedrooms, but most of all, that
indescribable smell of a boat.
Everyone looked less unsettling in the
lamplight. Lannec had a brown moustache and sharp, bright eyes. He had taken a
bottle from a locker and was rinsing glasses by filling them with water he then
poured out on the floor.
‘It seems
that you were here on the night of the 16th of September, Captain Lannec.’
Big Louis was sitting hunched over with
his elbows on the table.
‘Right, we were here,’
replied Lannec, pouring out the drinks.
‘Wasn’t that unusual?
Because spending the night in the outer harbour would mean you’d have to keep
an eye on your moorings, because of the tide.’
‘It happens,’ said Lannec
casually.
‘Like that you can often get
underway a few hours earlier in the morning,’ added Delcourt, who seemed
determined to keep things cordial.
‘Captain Joris didn’t come
and see you aboard?’
‘While we were in the
lock … Not later on.’
‘And you neither saw nor heard
anything out of the ordinary?’
‘Cheers! … No,
nothing.’
‘You, Louis, you went to
bed?’
‘Must have.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I said must have … Was
some time ago.’
‘You didn’t visit your
sister?’
‘Mebbe so. Not for
long …’
‘Didn’t Joris forbid you to
set foot in his house?’
‘Bunk!’
‘What do you mean by
that?’
‘Nothing. It’s all
rubbish … You finished with me now?’
Maigret couldn’t really charge him
with anything. Besides, he had no desire at all to arrest him.
‘Finished
for today.’
Louis spoke with his skipper in Breton,
rose, emptied his glass and touched his cap in farewell.
‘What did he say to you?’
asked the inspector.
‘That I didn’t need him on
the Caen run, so he’ll rejoin me back here after I’ve delivered our
cargo.’
‘Where is he going?’
‘He didn’t tell
me.’
Delcourt hurried to look out of the
hatchway, listened for a little while and returned.
‘He’s over on the
dredger.’
‘The what?’
‘You didn’t notice the two
dredgers in the canal? They’re simply moored there for the moment. They have
sleeping quarters there. Sailors would rather kip on an old boat than in a
hotel.’
‘Another round?’
And after looking intently about the
cabin, Maigret made himself more comfortable.
‘What was your first port of call
after leaving Ouistreham, on the 16th of last month?’
‘Southampton. Delivering a cargo
of stone.’
‘Then?’
‘Boulogne.’
‘You haven’t been up to
Norway since then?’
‘I’ve been there only once,
six years ago.’
‘Did you know Joris
well?’
‘Us, we know everyone, you see.
From La Rochelle to Rotterdam. Cheers! … In fact, this here is good Dutch
gin I got in Holland. Cigar?’
He took a box from
a drawer.
‘Cigars that cost ten cents over
there. One franc!’
They were fat, smoothly rolled with gold
bands.
‘It’s strange,’ sighed
Maigret. ‘I was told that Joris definitely came aboard your boat when you were
in the outer harbour, and that someone else was with him.’
Lannec was busy cutting the tip of his
cigar, however, and when he looked up, his face wore no expression.
‘I wouldn’t have any reason
to hide that.’
Outside, someone jumped on to the bridge
with a loud thud. A head appeared at the top of the hatchway ladder.
‘The steamer from Le Havre’s
coming in!’
Delcourt sprang up and turned to
Maigret.
‘I have to clear the lock for her,
so the
Saint-Michel
will be moving out.’
‘I assume I may
sat out, along with some sturdy but gummy-looking glasses and a half-bottle of
red.
On either side of the cabin were wide,
rectangular recesses, like cupboards without doors, for the beds of the captain and
Louis, the first mate. Unmade beds, with dirty boots and clothing tossed on to them.
Whiffs of tar, alcohol, cooking and stuffy bedrooms, but most of all, that
indescribable smell of a boat.
Everyone looked less unsettling in the
lamplight. Lannec had a brown moustache and sharp, bright eyes. He had taken a
bottle from a locker and was rinsing glasses by filling them with water he then
poured out on the floor.
‘It seems
that you were here on the night of the 16th of September, Captain Lannec.’
Big Louis was sitting hunched over with
his elbows on the table.
‘Right, we were here,’
replied Lannec, pouring out the drinks.
‘Wasn’t that unusual?
Because spending the night in the outer harbour would mean you’d have to keep
an eye on your moorings, because of the tide.’
‘It happens,’ said Lannec
casually.
‘Like that you can often get
underway a few hours earlier in the morning,’ added Delcourt, who seemed
determined to keep things cordial.
‘Captain Joris didn’t come
and see you aboard?’
‘While we were in the
lock … Not later on.’
‘And you neither saw nor heard
anything out of the ordinary?’
‘Cheers! … No,
nothing.’
‘You, Louis, you went to
bed?’
‘Must have.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I said must have … Was
some time ago.’
‘You didn’t visit your
sister?’
‘Mebbe so. Not for
long …’
‘Didn’t Joris forbid you to
set foot in his house?’
‘Bunk!’
‘What do you mean by
that?’
‘Nothing. It’s all
rubbish … You finished with me now?’
Maigret couldn’t really charge him
with anything. Besides, he had no desire at all to arrest him.
‘Finished
for today.’
Louis spoke with his skipper in Breton,
rose, emptied his glass and touched his cap in farewell.
‘What did he say to you?’
asked the inspector.
‘That I didn’t need him on
the Caen run, so he’ll rejoin me back here after I’ve delivered our
cargo.’
‘Where is he going?’
‘He didn’t tell
me.’
Delcourt hurried to look out of the
hatchway, listened for a little while and returned.
‘He’s over on the
dredger.’
‘The what?’
‘You didn’t notice the two
dredgers in the canal? They’re simply moored there for the moment. They have
sleeping quarters there. Sailors would rather kip on an old boat than in a
hotel.’
‘Another round?’
And after looking intently about the
cabin, Maigret made himself more comfortable.
‘What was your first port of call
after leaving Ouistreham, on the 16th of last month?’
‘Southampton. Delivering a cargo
of stone.’
‘Then?’
‘Boulogne.’
‘You haven’t been up to
Norway since then?’
‘I’ve been there only once,
six years ago.’
‘Did you know Joris
well?’
‘Us, we know everyone, you see.
From La Rochelle to Rotterdam. Cheers! … In fact, this here is good Dutch
gin I got in Holland. Cigar?’
He took a box from
a drawer.
‘Cigars that cost ten cents over
there. One franc!’
They were fat, smoothly rolled with gold
bands.
‘It’s strange,’ sighed
Maigret. ‘I was told that Joris definitely came aboard your boat when you were
in the outer harbour, and that someone else was with him.’
Lannec was busy cutting the tip of his
cigar, however, and when he looked up, his face wore no expression.
‘I wouldn’t have any reason
to hide that.’
Outside, someone jumped on to the bridge
with a loud thud. A head appeared at the top of the hatchway ladder.
‘The steamer from Le Havre’s
coming in!’
Delcourt sprang up and turned to
Maigret.
‘I have to clear the lock for her,
so the
Saint-Michel
will be moving out.’
‘I assume I may
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