The Yellow Dog (8 page)

‘Find anything?'

‘Nothing. It was my partner who thought of the old watchtower at Cabélou … We're just coming to it – that square stone structure on the last rocky point. It dates from the same time as the Old Town fortifications. Come
this way … watch out for the muck … A very long time ago, a caretaker lived here, a kind of watchman, who signalled when boats passed. From it, you can see really far. It overlooks the Glénan Islands channel, the only opening to the
sea. But it hasn't been manned for maybe fifty years.'

Maigret stepped through an opening whose door had vanished and entered a space with a beaten-earth floor. On the ocean side, narrow slits gave a view out over the water. On the other side was a single window, without panes or a frame. On the stone
walls were inscriptions cut by knifepoint; on the ground were dirty papers and all kinds of rubbish.

‘For nearly fifteen years, a man lived here, all alone. Weak in the head – sort of a child of nature. He slept over in that corner. Didn't mind the cold or the damp, or even the storms that flung spray in through the slits. He was a
local curiosity. In the summer, the Parisians would come to look at him, give him coins. A postcard pedlar took a picture of him and sold it at the entrance … The man finally died, during the War. And no one ever bothered to clean the place up … Yesterday, my partner
thought that if someone was hiding out around here, this might be the spot.'

Maigret started up the narrow stone stairway cut right into the wall and reached the lookout, a granite tower open on all four sides, giving a view of the whole area.

‘This was the watchtower. Before beacon lights were invented, they used to burn a fire here on the terrace … Anyhow, this morning very early, we came up here, me and my partner. We moved on tiptoe. And downstairs, right where the
halfwit used to sleep, we saw a man snoring
away – a giant! You could hear him breathing fifteen metres away. We managed to slip the handcuffs on him before he woke up.'

They went back to the square room below, which was freezing cold from the wind.

‘Did he struggle?'

‘Not at all! My partner asked for his papers, and he didn't answer … You never got a good look at him, did you? … He was stronger than the two of us together, so I never took my finger off the trigger of my revolver.
What hands! Yours are big, but try to picture hands twice that big, with tattoos on them—'

‘Did you see what they were?'

‘All I could make out was an anchor, on the left hand, with the letters
SS
on both. There were some other complicated designs … maybe a snake … We didn't touch the mess lying around him. Look!'

There were bottles of good wine and expensive liquor, empty tins and about twenty unopened ones. In the centre of the room were the ashes of a fire and, nearby, a stripped lamb bone, chunks of bread, a few fish spines, a big scallop shell and some
lobster claws.

‘Some feast, eh?' exclaimed the young policeman, who had probably never eaten such food. ‘This explains the complaints that have come in lately – a six-pound loaf stolen from the baker's, a basket of whiting that disappeared
from a fishing boat and the Prunier warehouse manager's claim that someone was swiping his lobsters during the night. We didn't pay much attention, because it was never very much.'

Maigret was trying to work out how many days it would take a man with a big appetite to consume the amount of
food indicated by the debris. ‘A week …' he murmured. ‘Yes – counting the
lamb …'

Abruptly he asked, ‘What about the dog?'

‘Yes. He wasn't here. There are plenty of pawprints on the ground, but we didn't see the animal … You know, the mayor must be in a state over the doctor. I'd be surprised if he didn't wire Paris.'

‘The man was armed?'

‘No. I was the one who searched him, while my partner, Piedbœuf, held on to the handcuffs and kept his gun on him. In one trouser pocket were roasted chestnuts, four or five of them. They must have come from the cart in front of the cinema on
Friday and Saturday nights. Then there were a few coins, not even ten francs … A knife – but not a dangerous one; the kind sailors use to cut bread.'

‘He didn't say anything?'

‘Not a word. We thought that he was simple-minded, like the old tenant … He stared at us like a bear would. He had a week's growth of beard and two broken teeth, right in the middle.'

‘What was he wearing?'

‘I didn't notice … An old suit? I don't even know now if he was wearing a shirt or a sweater. He came along quietly … We were proud of our catch. He could have got away ten times before we made it back to
town … So our guard was down when he gave that big yank that broke the chain between the cuffs. I thought my right wrist was broken. It still hurts … About Dr Michoux …'

‘What about him?'

‘You know his mother's supposed to get back today or tomorrow … She's the widow of a deputy. They say she has a lot of influence. And she's a friend of the mayor's wife.'

Maigret was gazing at the grey ocean through the slits. Small boats were tacking between Cabélou Point and a line of rocks marked by breaking surf; they came about and began to lay their nets less than a
mile out.

‘You really think it was the doctor who—'

‘Let's go,' said the inspector.

The tide was coming in. When they left the tower, the water was starting to lap at the base. A hundred metres away, a boy was jumping from rock to rock as he checked lobster pots set in crevices. The young policeman could not keep quiet.

‘The strange thing is that anyone would attack Monsieur Mostaguen. He's the best man in Concarneau; they even wanted to make him a district councillor … It seems he'll be all right, but they couldn't remove the
bullet. So, for the rest of his life he'll be carrying a chunk of lead around in his belly! When you think that if he just hadn't felt like lighting a cigar …'

Rather than go around the harbour again, they crossed part of it on a ferry that shuttled to the Old Town.

A short distance from where the boys had been throwing stones at the dog the day before, Maigret noticed a wall with an enormous entryway surmounted by a flag and the words ‘National Police Barracks'.

He went in and crossed the courtyard of a building dating from Colbert's time. In an office there, Leroy was arguing with a police sergeant.

‘About the doctor?' asked Maigret.

‘Right! The sergeant won't hear of letting him get his meals sent in from outside.'

‘Unless you authorize it,' the sergeant told Maigret. ‘And I'll need a signed document releasing me …'

The courtyard was as tranquil as a cloister. A fountain flowed with a cheerful gurgle.

‘Where is he?'

‘Down there, to the right. Push open that door. Then it's the second door along the corridor. Do you want me to go with you to open up? The mayor phoned to say we should treat the prisoner with the utmost consideration.'

Maigret scratched his chin. Leroy and the policeman, who were about the same age, watched him with the same bashful curiosity.

A few minutes later, the inspector stepped alone into a whitewashed cell that was no more dismal than any barracks room.

Michoux was seated at a small pine table. He stood up when Maigret entered, hesitated, then, with his eyes averted, began to speak:

‘I assume, inspector, that you're just staging this farce to head off another crime, to protect me from … from some attack …'

Maigret noticed that no one had relieved the doctor of his braces, his scarf or his shoelaces, as regulations required. With the tip of his shoe he drew a chair over, sat down, filled his pipe and said amiably: ‘Yes, indeed. But do sit down,
doctor!'

‘Are you superstitious, inspector?'

Straddling his chair, his elbows on its back, Maigret pursed his lips in a way that might mean anything at all. The doctor had not sat down.

‘I think we all are at certain times, or, if you like, when we're under pressure …' Michoux coughed into his handkerchief, looked at it worriedly, then went on.

‘A week ago, I would have said I didn't believe in fortune-telling. And yet … It must be about five years ago now that I was having dinner with a few friends at the home of an actress in Paris. Over coffee, one of the guests
suggested reading the cards … Well, do you know what he told me? Of course I laughed! I laughed all the more because it was so different from the usual line – blonde woman, old man who wishes you well, letter that comes from far away, and so on … To me, he said:
“You'll die a hideous death, a violent death. Beware of yellow dogs!”'

Michoux had not looked at the inspector so far, but he glanced at him now. Maigret was placid – huge on the little chair, but a monument of placidity.

‘That doesn't strike you as odd? … Through all the years since, I never heard a word about a yellow dog. Then on Friday there's a shooting. One of my friends is the victim. It could just as easily have been me who ducked
into that doorway and got hit by the bullet. And suddenly a yellow dog turns up!

‘Another friend disappears under weird circumstances. And the yellow dog is still stalking around.

‘Yesterday, it was Le Pommeret's turn … The yellow dog again! … And you don't think I should be upset?'

He had never talked so much at once, and as he talked he became more confident. The only encouragement the inspector offered was ‘Of course … of course.'

‘Isn't it disturbing? I realize I must have looked like a coward to you … Well, yes, I was afraid! It was a vague kind of fear, but it grabbed me by the throat from the minute the first attack … And then when the
yellow dog came into the picture …'

He paced the cell with small steps, his eyes on the floor. Then his face came alive. ‘I almost asked you for protection, but I was afraid you would laugh. I was even more afraid of your contempt … Because strong men do feel contempt
for cowards …'

His voice grew shrill. ‘And I admit it, inspector: I am a coward! For the past four days I've been frightened – four days I've been sick with fright. It's no fault of mine! I know enough medicine to understand my own
case.

‘When I was born, they had to put me in an incubator. Growing up, I went through every single childhood disease.

‘And when the War broke out, doctors who were examining 500 men a day declared me fit for service and sent me to the front! Well, not only did I have weak lungs, scarred from old lesions, but two years earlier I'd had a kidney
removed …

‘I was terrified. Crazy with terror! Some hospital
attendants picked me up after a shell exploded and buried me … And finally they realized that I didn't belong in the army.

‘What I'm telling you may not be pretty. But I've been watching you. You look like a man who can understand …

‘It's easy enough for strong people to despise cowards. But they ought to take the trouble to learn where the cowardice comes from …

‘Look, I could see that you didn't think much of our group at the Admiral café. People told you that I sold land … a deputy's son, with a medical degree … and then all those evenings at a café table with those
other failures.

‘But what was I supposed to do? My parents were big spenders even though they weren't rich. That's not so rare in Paris. I was raised in luxury – all the great spas, and so on. Then my father died, and my mother started to dabble
in the market and dream up schemes – just as much the great lady as ever, just as arrogant, but with creditors hounding her.

‘So I helped her out. That was all I
could
do. This property development – nothing very impressive. And the life here … Prominent citizens, oh, yes – but with something not quite solid about them.

‘For three days now you've been watching me, and I've been wishing I could talk to you openly … I used to be married. My wife asked for a divorce because she wanted a husband with more ambition …

‘One kidney short – three or four days a week sick, exhausted, dragging myself from my bed to my chair …'

He sat down listlessly.

‘Emma must have told you we've been lovers –
mindlessly, you know? Just because sometimes you need to have a woman … Not the sort of thing you tell everyone …

‘At the Admiral café, I might have wound up going mad. The yellow dog, Servières disappearing, the bloodstains in his car. And the worst was Le Pommeret's miserable death …

‘Why him? Why not me? We were together two hours earlier, at the same table, with the same glasses in front of us … I had a premonition that if I left the hotel I'd be next. I felt the circle tightening around me, that even in
the hotel, even locked in my room, danger was tracking me down …