By Georges Simenon

Guided through his instinct and his targeted expertise for placing himself in different people's footwear, Inspector Maigret plows via a difficult maze of likely unconnected suspects and merely the main fragmentary clues to discover the assassin of fortuneteller Mademoiselle Jeanne.

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Taking a look similar to a sleepwalker, a tragic sleepwalker, Joseph Mascouvin the 2 males down dusty stairs to the place a police automobile was once ready within the courtyard. “67 bis Rue Caulaincourt… quick! ” at the method Maigret checked out the record of fortunetellers and clairvoyants that were compiled, for discreet surveillance, the night earlier than. obviously, Mademoiselle Jeanne’s identify used to be now not between them. “Can’t you pass any speedier? ” And that idiot of a Mascouvin requested timidly: “Is she lifeless? ” For a second Maigret puzzled no matter if he used to be as naïve as he seemed. We’ll see approximately that! he stated to himself. “Revolver? ” murmured Lucas. “Knife. ” there has been no use to appear for the numbers. A crowd had gathered outdoors the home, which confronted position Constantin Pecqueur. “Shall I wait down the following? ” stammered Mascouvin. “No. arise… Come on. persist with us. ” Policemen controlling the group made a manner via it for Maigret and his sergeant. “Fifth flooring. The door at the correct. ” there has been no elevator. the home was once good saved, in spite of the fact that, and the horrified tenants amassed at the landings seemed decent and wealthy. at the 5th flooring, the police superintendent of the Eighteenth held out his hand to Maigret. “Come in… The body’s no longer but chilly… It was once merely by way of good fortune that we came so quickly, as you’ll see. ” One entered a bit room bathed in sunshine, which poured in via a large bay window beginning onto a balcony that regarded southward correct around the urban. It was once an exquisite little room, neat and comfy, with pale-colored curtains, Louis XVI chairs, and fascinating adorns. an area medical professional circled to greet them with “There’s not anything to be performed… the second one blow was once fatal…” The room used to be too small for all of the humans amassed there. Maigret, after filling his pipe, took off his jacket, revealing the mauve suspenders his spouse had obtained for him the week earlier than. They have been even made from silk, and taken a grin to the neighborhood superintendent’s face. That smile, in flip, introduced a scowl to Maigret’s. “Come on… let us know… What occurred? ” “I haven’t had time to gather a lot info but, quite because the concierge is whatever yet talkative. you'll want to drag the phrases out of her one after the other… This Mademoiselle Jeanne—her genuine name’s Marie Picard, and she or he used to be born in Bayeux…” Maigret lifted up the sheet that have been thrown over the physique. She have been a handsome girl. Fortyish. Plump and good preserved. reasonable hair whose colour will not be altogether ordinary. “She wasn’t registered as a fortuneteller and he or she by no means marketed. nonetheless she turns out to have had various of individuals coming to refer to her. ” “How many this afternoon? ” “I requested Madame Baffoin—Eugénie Baffoin—but she stated she didn’t comprehend. She stated it used to be no enterprise of hers and that concierges weren’t part as nosy as they have been made out to be… a couple of minutes previous 5 this lady…” a full of life little girl, additionally middle-aged, jumped up from her chair. She was once donning a slightly absurd hat. “I knew Mademoiselle Jeanne rather well,” she defined. “From time to time she got here and spent a number of days with us at Morsang… have you learnt Morsang?

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