Maigret's Holiday Read Free Page A

a man develops new habits,
learns to walk quietly, to smile sweetly at Sister Aurélie, and then at Sister
Marie des Anges. He even learns to give a forced smile to the loathsome Mademoiselle
Rinquet.
    After which someone takes advantage of the
situation to slip a stupid note into his pocket.
    And first of all, who was the patient in
room 15? Madame Maigret would know, for sure. They all knew one another even though they
didn’t meet. They all knew one another’s business. She sometimes told her
husband the gossip, discreetly, in a low voice, like in church.
    â€˜Apparently the lady in room 11
who’s so kind and so gentle … poor thing … Come closer
…’
    She stammered under her breath:
    â€˜Breast cancer …’
    Then she glanced over at Mademoiselle
Rinquet’s bed and fluttered her eyelashes, indicating that her fellow patient had
cancer too.
    â€˜If you could have seen the pretty
little girl they brought into the ward …’
    She meant the public ward,
for in fact there were three classes, as for trains: the public ward, which was like the
third class, then the two-bed rooms and, finally, the first-class private rooms.
    What was the point of worrying about it? All
this was childish. There was really something infantile about the atmosphere in the
hospital. Weren’t the nuns rather childlike?
    The patients too, with their petty
jealousies and their whispered secrets, the sweets they hoarded like misers and the way
they lay listening out for footsteps in the corridors.
    For pity’s sake …
    Those three words suggested that the note
could only have come from a woman. Why would the patient in room 15 need him? He did not
intend to take the note seriously or ask Sister Aurélie’s permission to visit
someone whose name he didn’t even know.
    On the beach and in town, the sunshine was
overpowering. At certain times, the air literally quivered with the heat and when you
suddenly stepped into a puddle of shade, for a moment you could only see red.
    Right! His siesta was over; it was time for
him to fold up his newspaper, put on his jacket, light a pipe and go downstairs.
    â€˜See you later, inspector!’
    And so it went on, hellos and goodbyes like
benedictions, all day long. Everyone was pleasant, smiling. He was the only one to
become disgruntled. A nice downpour oran argument with someone
cantankerous would have made him feel better.
    The green door and the three o’clock
chimes. He wasn’t even capable of not taking his watch out of his pocket!
    â€˜Good afternoon, Sister
…’
    Why didn’t he genuflect, while he was
about it? And now the other one – there was Sister Marie des Anges waiting for him
on the stairs.
    â€˜Good afternoon, Sister
…’
    And Monsieur 6 tiptoed into Madame
Maigret’s room.
    â€˜How are you?’
    She forced herself to sound cheerful but
only managed a half-smile.
    â€˜You shouldn’t have brought me
oranges. I still have some left.’
    â€˜Now, you who know all the patients
…’
    Why was she signalling to him? He turned
towards Mademoiselle Rinquet’s bed. The old spinster lay there facing the wall,
her head buried in her pillow.
    He asked quietly:
    â€˜Is something wrong?’
    â€˜It’s not her … Shh
… Come closer …’
    She was being very secretive. It was like
being in a girls’ boarding school.
    â€˜Someone died last night
…’
    She was keeping one eye on Mademoiselle
Rinquet, whose blanket twitched.
    â€˜It was terrible, we could hear the
screams … Then the family arrived … It went on for more than three hours.
There were comings and goings … Several patientspanicked …
Especially when the chaplain administered the extreme unction … They turned the
lights out in the corridor, but everyone knew …’
    In a whisper, Madame Maigret added, jerking
her head in the direction of her fellow