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me there. Let
your brother-in-law manage by himself …’
    Nonetheless, he went into the town hall as
Cavre walked away. The former inspector had a leather briefcase under his arm, which no
doubt conferred some special status on him in the eyes of the townsfolk, elevating him
to a member of the legal profession.
    The little town clerk, who smelled bad, did
not stand up as he entered his office.
    ‘May I help you?’
    ‘Detective Chief
Inspector Maigret of the Police Judiciaire. I’m in Saint-Aubin in an unofficial
capacity and I’d like to ask you for some information.’
    The other hesitated irritably before
pointing Maigret to a rush-seated chair.
    ‘Did the private detective who just
left say who he was working for?’
    The secretary did not understand, or
pretended not to understand, the question. The same, pretty much, applied to all the
inspector’s other questions.
    ‘You knew Albert Retailleau. Tell me
what you thought of him.’
    ‘He was a good lad … Yes,
that’s a fair description: a good lad. You couldn’t lay any faults at his
door.’
    ‘Did he chase after women?’
    ‘He was a young man, wasn’t he?
You never really know what young people get up to. But you definitely wouldn’t say
he chased after women.’
    ‘Were he and Mademoiselle Naud
lovers?’
    ‘People have claimed as much. There
were rumours. But it was just talk, as rumours only ever are.’
    ‘Who found the body?’
    ‘Ferchaud, the stationmaster. He
telephoned the town hall, and the deputy mayor immediately called the gendarmerie at
Benet, because we don’t have a squad in Saint-Aubin.’
    ‘What did the doctor who examined the
body say?’
    ‘What did he say? That he was dead.
There wasn’t much of a body to examine, strictly speaking … The train had
run over it …’
    ‘But it was still
identified as Albert Retailleau?’
    ‘What? Of course. It was definitely
Retailleau, no doubt about that.’
    ‘When had the last train gone
by?’
    ‘Seven minutes past five.’
    ‘People didn’t find it strange
that Retailleau was found on the railway track at five o’clock in the morning in
the middle of winter?’
    The secretary’s response was
priceless:
    ‘It was dry. Frosty.’
    ‘Even so, rumours have gone round
…’
    ‘Rumours, yes. You can’t stop
rumours.’
    ‘Your personal opinion is that it was
an accident?’
    ‘It is very hard to form an
opinion.’
    Maigret tried mentioning Madame
Retailleau:
    ‘A wonderful woman. That’s all
there is to say about her.’
    He raised Naud for discussion:
    ‘Such an agreeable person. His father,
who was a general councillor, was also a real gentleman.’
    Finally, he asked about the girl:
    ‘A pretty young lady
…’
    ‘Well behaved?’
    ‘Of course she is well behaved. And
her mother is one of the finest people in this town.’
    The little man said all of this without
conviction, politely at best, as he foraged in his nose and examined the results with
interest.
    ‘Monsieur Groult-Cotelle?’
    ‘An extremely decent fellow too. No
airs and graces.’
    ‘Is he a very close
friend of the Nauds?’
    ‘They often see one another, yes. They
move in the same circles, don’t they?’
    ‘What day was Retailleau’s cap
found not far from the Nauds’ house?’
    ‘What day? Well … But was that
all that was found?’
    ‘I was told that someone called
Désiré, who collects milk for the dairy, had found the cap in the reeds by the
canal.’
    ‘People have said as much
…’
    ‘It’s not true?’
    ‘It is hard to know whether it is
true. Désiré is drunk half the time.’
    ‘And when he’s drunk?’
    ‘One minute he says yes, the next he
says no.’
    ‘But a cap! It’s something
visible, tangible. People have seen it.’
    ‘Ah.’
    ‘It must be somewhere now
…’
    ‘Perhaps … I don’t know.
You see, we’re not the police, we only concern ourselves with our own business
…’
    You couldn’t make yourself plainer
than this grubby, gormless little