‘So? Your weekend?’
The superintendent, in the sunlight, was stroking his white goatee and smiling mischievously at a grumpy Maigret.
‘Next time you’ll be so kind as to send someone else on this type of mission. It’s all very well saving people, but preferably when they’re deserving! But as long as they are—’
‘Who are you talking about?’
‘The entire family!’
‘Without exception?’
‘Let’s say, perhaps, with the exception of a beautiful girl who … and even then! Women shouldn’t be allowed to play at the Temptation of Saint Anthony for an entire Sunday afternoon! When a woman has a body like that, she should conceal it, otherwise …’
‘The threatening letter?’
‘I was certain from the beginning. Sent by the brother, Oscar, of course! He’d been attempting to get rid of his older brother for a long time by trying to persuade him to go for a cure in the mountains. And it was he who, on the pretext of protesting about the medicines Émile was taking, kept thrusting medical books under his nose. Do you follow?’
‘Umm …’
‘You can’t understand if you don’t know the family … In short, Oscar, at fifty something, wanted to live his life, which he couldn’t do while he was under his brother’s thumb … He said to himself that, by scaring him, he’d finally get him to leave Paris, which would have allowed him to indulge in his little debaucheries with Babette, and probably marry her …’
‘It may be very clear to you, but for me—’
‘It doesn’t matter …! Oscar confessed … I was sure he wouldn’t take the joke any further, that he’d never make an attempt on his brother’s life … Unfortunately, like many pranks, this one almost ended in a tragedy, because it gave someone ideas … A pathetic fellow, the nephew, raised in that madhouse, hyper from an addiction to cocaine, torn in different directions, crazy, yelled at all day long—’
‘I’m finding it harder and harder to follow you!’
‘I’ll try and be more precise in my report, but this one won’t be easy to write. In other words, young Henri, informed of the threat hanging over his uncle, said to himself that he could very well carry it out … Mind you, everyone in that household would have happily done so … Do you know the paradox of the mandarin …? If Oscar, Babette, Françoise or Éliane had been given the opportunity to get rid of Émile by pressing a button …
‘Henri tried to do so by putting a strong dose of cocaine in the tablets his uncle took at set times …
‘He didn’t have the gumption to witness his dying moments …
‘The police picked him up in Paris that night, when, scared out of his wits, he’d taken a massive amount of cocaine and collapsed in a Montmartre drinking den …
‘That’s all.’
Maigret wiped his hand across his brow, went over to the window and inhaled the morning air, taking a deep breath.
‘Has he been arrested?’
‘In hospital … The uncle hasn’t lodged a complaint. He’s terrified at the thought of a public hearing in the criminal courts …’
‘So …?’
‘Nothing! My wife is furious! Émile threw up on my trousers, which will have to be sent to the dry cleaners, and she spent an unpleasant Sunday …’
He lit his pipe and grunted, between puffs, the smoke rising in the sunlight:
‘Give me a likeable scoundrel …! But those people …’
And the chief replied ironically:
‘The Police Judiciaire doesn’t deal only with murderers, Maigret. Don’t forget the other section, the one under which you’re going to file your report.’
‘…?’
‘Investigations undertaken on behalf of private families …’
The chief wasn’t sure he heard correctly:
‘Damn!’
Because Maigret was already opening the door.