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wind up at the Three Widows Crossroads, keeping a more or less equal distance from the Andersens’ house, the Michonnet villa and the garage.
    In short, this trail proved nothing! It introduced no new lead and Maigret, stepping out on to the road, was biting down on his pipe stem rather grimly.
    He saw Monsieur Oscar at his door, his hands in the pockets of his baggy trousers and a smug expression on his common-looking face.
    â€˜Up already, chief inspector?’ he shouted across the road.
    At that same moment someone pulled up between Maigret and the garage: it was Carl Andersen in his little old car.
    He was wearing gloves and a fedora and had a cigarette between his lips. He doffed his hat.
    â€˜May I have a word with you, chief inspector?’
    After rolling down his window, he went on in his usual polite manner.
    â€˜I did want to ask your permission to go to Paris, and was hoping to find you here … I’ll tell you why I must go: today is the 15th of April, the day I am paid for my work for Dumas and Son. It’s also the day when the
rent is due …’
    He smiled apologetically.
    â€˜Quite ordinary errands, as you see, but urgent ones all the same. I’m low on funds.’
    When he removed his monocle for a moment to resettle it more securely, Maigret turned his head away because he did not like looking into that staring glass eye.
    â€˜And your sister?’
    â€˜Precisely … I was about to bring this up: would it be too much to ask you to have someone look in on the house from time to time?’
    Three dark, official-looking cars came up the hill from Arpajon and turned left towards Avrainville.
    â€˜What’s going on?’
    â€˜They’re from the public prosecutor’s office. Madame Goldberg was killed last night as she was getting out of a car at the inn.’
    Maigret watched his reaction. Across the street, Monsieur Oscar was strolling idly up and down in front of his garage.
    â€˜Killed!’ repeated Carl. Suddenly nervous, he said, ‘Listen, chief inspector: I must get to Paris! … I can’t stay here without any money, especially on the day when I have to pay all my local bills, but as soon
as I get back I want to help find the murderer. You will allow me to do this, won’t you? I don’t know anything for certain, but I feel … I don’t know how to put this … I’m beginning to see some kind of pattern here …’
    He had to pull in closer to the pavement because a lorry driver coming back from Paris was honking his horn to get by.
    â€˜Off you go, then!’ exclaimed Maigret.
    Carl tipped his hat and took a moment to light another
cigarette before letting in the clutch, whereupon the jalopy went down the hill and puttered up the next one.
    People were moving around over by the three cars that were parked just outside Avrainville.
    â€˜Sure you wouldn’t like a little something?’
    Maigret frowned at the smiling garage owner, who just wouldn’t stop offering him a drink.
    Filling a pipe, he walked off towards the Three Widows house, where the tall trees were alive with the fluttering and chirping of birds. The Michonnet villa was on his way.
    The windows were open. Wearing a dust cap, Madame Michonnet was upstairs in the bedroom, shaking out a rug.
    Unshaven, his hair uncombed, wearing no collar, her husband was downstairs smoking a meerschaum with a cherry-wood stem and looking out at the road with a glum, abstracted air. When he noticed the inspector, he avoided greeting him by making a
show of cleaning out his pipe.
    A few minutes later Maigret was ringing the bell at the Andersens’ front gate, where he waited in vain for ten minutes. All the shutters were closed. The only sound was the constant twittering of the birds, which transformed every tree into
a bustling little world.
    In the end Maigret shrugged, examined the lock and let himself in with