the other people present were the Wienands family, yourself and Conrad â¦â
âAnd oh yes, there was Cor â¦Â I forgot.â
âCor?â
âShort for Cornelius, a pupil at the Naval College. He was taking private lessons.â
âWhen did he leave?â
âThe same time as Conrad and me. But he would have turned left on his bike, to get back to the college boat, which is moored on the Ems Canal. Do you take sugar?â
Steam rose from the teacups. A car had just stopped at the foot of the three steps up to the house. Shortly afterwards, a large burly man, grey-haired, with a serious expression, entered the room: his bulk emphasizing his calm presence.
This was Farmer Liewens, waiting for his daughter to introduce the visitor.
He shook Maigretâs hand vigorously, but without saying anything.
âMy father doesnât speak French.â
She served the farmer a cup of tea, which he drank standing up, with small sips. Then she told him about the calfâs birth, speaking in Dutch.
She must also have mentioned the part played by the inspector in that event, since her father looked at him in astonishment tinged with irony, before, with a stiff bow, going off to the cowshed.
âSo, is the professor in prison?â Maigret asked.
âNo, heâs at the Van Hasselt Hotel, with a gendarme attached to him.â
âAnd Conrad?â
âHis body has been taken to Groningen â¦Â Thirty kilometres away. A big town with a university, population a hundred thousand. Where Jean Duclos had been welcomed the day before. Itâs all so dreadful, isnât it? Nobody can understand it.â
Dreadful, perhaps. But it was hard to feel that way! No doubt because of the clear air, the cosy, welcoming surroundings, the tea steaming on the table and the little town itself, looking like a toy village someone had set down by the seaside for fun.
By leaning out of the window one could see, looming over the brick houses, the smokestack and gangway of a large cargo vessel being unloaded. And the boats floating down the Ems towards the sea.
âDid Conrad usually accompany you home?â
âEvery time I went to their house. He was a good friend.â
âAnd Madame Popinga didnât mind?â
Maigret made the remark almost at random, since his gaze had fallen on the young womanâs tempting bosom, and perhaps because the sight of it had brought some warmth to his own cheeks.
âWhy would she?â
âI donât know. Night time â¦Â the two of you â¦â
She laughed, showing healthy teeth.
âIn Holland, itâs always â¦Â Cor used to see me home too.â
âAnd
he
wasnât in love with you?â
She didnât say yes or no. She chuckled. A little chuckle of satisfied coquettishness.
Through the window, her father could be seen taking the calf out of the shed, carrying it like a baby and placing it on the grass in the field, in the sunlight.
The creature wobbled on its slender legs, almost fell to its knees, then suddenly tried to gallop for a few metres before stopping still.
âAnd Conrad never kissed you?â
Another laugh, accompanied by a very slight blush.
âYes, he did.â
âAnd Cor?â
This time she was more formal, looking away for a moment.
âYes, he did too, but why do you ask?â
She looked at him oddly. Perhaps she was expecting Maigret to kiss her as well.
Her father was calling from outside. She opened the window. He spoke to her in Dutch. When she turned back, it was to say:
âExcuse me, please. I have to go to town to find the mayor, about the calfâs pedigree. Itâs very important. Youâre not going to Delfzijl too?â
He went out with her. She took the handlebars of her nickel-plated bicycle and walked alongside him, swinging her hips, already those of a mature woman.
âItâs so beautiful here, isnât it?
âAnd oh yes, there was Cor â¦Â I forgot.â
âCor?â
âShort for Cornelius, a pupil at the Naval College. He was taking private lessons.â
âWhen did he leave?â
âThe same time as Conrad and me. But he would have turned left on his bike, to get back to the college boat, which is moored on the Ems Canal. Do you take sugar?â
Steam rose from the teacups. A car had just stopped at the foot of the three steps up to the house. Shortly afterwards, a large burly man, grey-haired, with a serious expression, entered the room: his bulk emphasizing his calm presence.
This was Farmer Liewens, waiting for his daughter to introduce the visitor.
He shook Maigretâs hand vigorously, but without saying anything.
âMy father doesnât speak French.â
She served the farmer a cup of tea, which he drank standing up, with small sips. Then she told him about the calfâs birth, speaking in Dutch.
She must also have mentioned the part played by the inspector in that event, since her father looked at him in astonishment tinged with irony, before, with a stiff bow, going off to the cowshed.
âSo, is the professor in prison?â Maigret asked.
âNo, heâs at the Van Hasselt Hotel, with a gendarme attached to him.â
âAnd Conrad?â
âHis body has been taken to Groningen â¦Â Thirty kilometres away. A big town with a university, population a hundred thousand. Where Jean Duclos had been welcomed the day before. Itâs all so dreadful, isnât it? Nobody can understand it.â
Dreadful, perhaps. But it was hard to feel that way! No doubt because of the clear air, the cosy, welcoming surroundings, the tea steaming on the table and the little town itself, looking like a toy village someone had set down by the seaside for fun.
By leaning out of the window one could see, looming over the brick houses, the smokestack and gangway of a large cargo vessel being unloaded. And the boats floating down the Ems towards the sea.
âDid Conrad usually accompany you home?â
âEvery time I went to their house. He was a good friend.â
âAnd Madame Popinga didnât mind?â
Maigret made the remark almost at random, since his gaze had fallen on the young womanâs tempting bosom, and perhaps because the sight of it had brought some warmth to his own cheeks.
âWhy would she?â
âI donât know. Night time â¦Â the two of you â¦â
She laughed, showing healthy teeth.
âIn Holland, itâs always â¦Â Cor used to see me home too.â
âAnd
he
wasnât in love with you?â
She didnât say yes or no. She chuckled. A little chuckle of satisfied coquettishness.
Through the window, her father could be seen taking the calf out of the shed, carrying it like a baby and placing it on the grass in the field, in the sunlight.
The creature wobbled on its slender legs, almost fell to its knees, then suddenly tried to gallop for a few metres before stopping still.
âAnd Conrad never kissed you?â
Another laugh, accompanied by a very slight blush.
âYes, he did.â
âAnd Cor?â
This time she was more formal, looking away for a moment.
âYes, he did too, but why do you ask?â
She looked at him oddly. Perhaps she was expecting Maigret to kiss her as well.
Her father was calling from outside. She opened the window. He spoke to her in Dutch. When she turned back, it was to say:
âExcuse me, please. I have to go to town to find the mayor, about the calfâs pedigree. Itâs very important. Youâre not going to Delfzijl too?â
He went out with her. She took the handlebars of her nickel-plated bicycle and walked alongside him, swinging her hips, already those of a mature woman.
âItâs so beautiful here, isnât it?
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