The Order Maigret stood up impatiently and, to forestall any potential trick on the part of the two women – the customer could be a messenger from Joseph, for example – he decided to go into the bar himself. ‘What do you want?’ The man seemed so taken aback that, in spite of his bad mood, Maigret almost burst out laughing. He was a middle-aged fellow, dull complexion, grey hair, who no doubt had crept furtively through the sidestreets in pursuit of some dream of unbridled sex, only to have the surly Maigret pop up behind the bar! ‘A bock …’ he stammered, letting go of the slot-machine handle. Behind the curtain, the inspector could see the two women in a huddle. Jaja was asking questions, and Sylvie was replying wearily. ‘There’s no beer!’ At least, Maigret couldn’t see any within reach! ‘Then whatever you like … A port maybe …’ Maigret poured some liquid or other in the first glass he could find.
