"Thank you, I prefer my pipe."
"As for myself, I do not smoke. Nor does my brother, for that matter. I really wonder what he can have told you. He's such a strange one."
Maigret didn't dare to stir, for the leg of the armchair on which he was sitting threatened to yield under his weight.
"You've obviously noticed our resemblance. As you must imagine, we are twins. We have an elder sister, Françoise, who lives on the second floor with her children."
"So your sister is married?"
"She was married to a man named Paget. That's where the business name comes from, Grosbois et Paget. Her husband died ten years ago, and she remains widowed with a son and a daughter."
"All the family continues to live in this building?"
"Not only in this building, but in our villa at Coudray. We have a taste for the family life, the simple life."
Maigret almost wanted to groan. "You must be kidding!"
"These are hard times. One does not know where the world is going. But that isn't the issue. Didn't my brother show you a letter which he claims to have received yesterday morning?"
At the word claims, Maigret sat up.
"He also showed it to us, and seemed quite upset. I calmed him down as I much as I could, for obviously, it's a joke."
"You, my little man," Maigret said to himself, "are dying to know what I think about it." He avoided answering, looking at his interlocutor with eyes of an inexpressible frankness.
"I suppose that people who intend to commit a crime are not accustomed to informing their victim."
"It's been known to happen."
"In certain cases, maybe. But what could someone want of us? We've never done any harm to anyone. We do not owe a centime. We…"
Maigret's inscrutable glance distracted him, and he was hard put to find the thread of his ideas.
"A small aperitif, Chief Inspector? As for ourselves, we do not drink either. No! We've gotten accustomed to a life healthy and unadorned. Never alcohol nor tobacco! Which does not prevent us from having what it is necessary for our guests."
"You receive many?"
"Never! I was saying… Yes… I was saying that my poor brother for some time…"
"He's unmarried, like you, isn't he?"
"We are two old bachelors. Fifty-three years, one like the other. And I would never have suspected that one day my brother would become… How can I express myself?"
If Maigret had had to describe him, he would have said that Oscar Grosbois had the face of a rat, right down to the darting eyes, anxious and furtive.
"I would not like you take what I'm saying literally. Émile is not insane. Most of the time, he maintains his full faculties. However, he has moments when…"
Maigret purposely avoided helping him out, and the other floundered.
"…when he is not like he always was. Understand, he is nervous… he has these whims. I must beg you to keep this in confidence. If Émile himself had made up the letter that he showed you I would not be surprised. It is what is called, if I am not mistaken, a persecution complex. That is what I wanted to let you know. I have too much respect for the police force to let it engage in a business which is probably without the least basis and for which, without a doubt, I would have to reproach myself if I kept silent."
At that moment, Maigret pricked up his ears, for he could hear, above them, separated by the thin floor, the noise of an argument.
Oscar Grosbois started as well, but murmured, "That's just the children bickering."
"Your sister's children? How old are they?"
"Henri is twenty, his sister eighteen. At that age, brother and sister, they're a bit like cats and dogs."
Oscar's smile had an unpleasant aspect, as it displayed his small, pointed, yellow teeth, like the teeth of a rat.
"Is your nephew in the rag business?"
"No. He studies."
"What does he study?"
"Business. He hasn't completely decided yet. His mother spoiled him terribly."
The noise above became louder, and if it were indeed an argument between brother and sister, it sounded like they would soon come to blows. In the end there was the sound of running, shouts, slamming doors, and finally steps on the staircase.
"Don't pay any attention. Those are just the minor nuisances of family life. To return to my brother, you've been informed. Do not grant too much importance to his words and especially to his fears. He works too much. If he would only take a month's holiday in a quiet place, preferably in a private hospital, in the mountains for example, he wouldn't seem so… You really do not want a cigar?"
And the poor fellow, awkward to the end, offered the package of cigars once more to Maigret, as one makes alms: "Come on! Let yourself have one! You'll smoke them at home."
"I'll spend the weekend among people who have about thirty million," Maigret announced to his wife.
"At least you won't be bored!"
And he'd retorted with a mysterious smile, "You think so?"
He had taken the train in the middle of Saturday afternoon, although the coaches were nearly full. His pass enabled him to travel in first class, and he'd sat opposite a girl who scandalized the whole compartment. It was difficult to determine her age exactly, but she was very young, of an exuberant and free youth. An old lady from Melun, in her corner, obviously regarded her as some kind of creature, with her violent make-up, ill-fitting dress and the audacious way in which she regarded the people around her.
As for the conversation… For the girl was not alone, she was accompanied by a young "sportsman", hatless, he too dressed eccentrically…
"So what did they do?" he asked.
"When they saw that the Bugatti was broken down and that there was absolutely no place at all within at least five kilometers, all four of them bedded down in the car as best they could, and that's how they spent the night!"
"You're joking!"
"It gets better! At first, Betty was with Jean, and Raymonde with Riri. I don't know what happened during the night, but the following day, Betty was with Riri, and Jean with Raymonde!"
The old lady, sitting bolt upright in her corner, looked at the girl with a severity which should have floored her. But she was not in the least brought down. With an absolute lack of embarrassment, she raised her dress to take off her stockings, asking her companion, "Did Yolande find some funds?"
"She wrote to her parents that she needed an emergency operation for appendicitis. They sent her ten thousand francs. But now she'll have to come up with a scar before the holidays."
"That shouldn't be so difficult."
The glance the old lady shot at Maigret seemed to say, "What a generation!"
And Maigret smiled vaguely, enjoying this afternoon of hot sun and the landscape which unraveled past the two sides of the train.
"Coudray-Montceaux!"
He got off. The girl too. Only the young man remained on the train, which set out again at once.
On the tiny station platform, two men awaited, so similar to one other, both dressed in gray alpaca, that they seemed about to perform some kind of duet. Maigret moved towards them, extending his hand, but he saw that their glances passed over his shoulder, whereby Émile Grosbois pronounced finally, "It is at this hour that you arrive?"
"I missed the first train."
"And your brother?"
"I didn't see him. I thought he'd be here already."
It was the eccentric girl, who was eventually introduced to him as Éliane Paget, the Grosbois brothers' niece.
"Chief Inspector Maigret, Police Judiciaire."
"Oh!" A rather hard glance, wary, "Is my mother here?"