Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 26, No. 4. Whole No. 143, October 1955

It was almost terrifying to come out of the manager’s office and lean over the great well of the store, which was as big as a ship and buzzing with the voices of the crowd below. How in the world was the Little Doctor to begin? He shrugged his shoulders, stepped into an elevator, and a minute later was walking along the Chaussée-d’Antin. There, with the same rapidity as if he were taking aspirin, he swallowed two glasses of brandy. Then he proceeded to the Rue Notre-Dame-de-Lorette, number 67. He was just about to knock at the concierge’s window when he saw Police Inspector Lucas interviewing her inside.

For the dead man had now been identified. He was Justin Galmet, 48 years old, no known profession, domiciled for the last twenty years at the Rue Notre-Dame-de-Lorette, number 67.

“Do you want to question her too?” suggested Inspector Lucas, opening the door. “Otherwise, you can go up with me to Galmet’s apartment.”

The house was typical of middle-class Paris, or rather of the Montmartre section. It was an old building, whose dark, dingy halls were filled with kitchen odors and the shrill sound of children’s voices and blaring radios. The apartment was on the fifth floor, facing the courtyard. Its three rooms were furnished in heavy provincial style; a canary cage hung in the middle of the window and there was a pot of geraniums on either side.

“Nobody will disturb us,” said the Inspector. “The concierge tells me that Justin Galmet never had any visitors. He was an old bachelor, with fussy ways. She claims that she came up once a week to give the place what she calls a thorough cleaning, but I imagine she actually did very little. Most of the time Galmet made his own bed and cooked his own breakfast and lunch. He went out around 2 o’clock in the afternoon and came back at 9, usually with his arms full of parcels. Then he dined at a little restaurant on the corner of the Rue Lepic. I’ve already called the place and found that he was a familiar figure there. He had a table reserved near the window and treated himself to delicacies of various kinds. He ate his dinner slowly, while reading the evening papers, wound up with a cup of coffee and a liqueur, and then went quietly home... But I have something much more startling to tell you...”

Here Inspector Lucas paused to weigh the effect of his words upon the Little Doctor.

“I found Justin Galmet’s name in our files,” Lucas continued, “not as a criminal but as a member of the Force. He joined up 25 years ago and served for four years before resigning. Someone had left him some money, he stated, and his intention was to live on the income from it. I turned up some fellows who used to know him and asked them about him. They described him as a lonely, taciturn sort. He was inclined to be lazy and used to sit for hours over a bottle of beer. And even then he had developed a taste for good food. A man fated to be a bachelor... Now, shall we look over the premises together?”

Galmet’s apartment was not exactly clean, but neither was it as disorderly as a man living alone might have left it. Dollent began by giving food and drink to the canary. The open window afforded the traditional view of the rooftops of Paris, gleaming in the sun. Lucas had opened a big old wardrobe and now he called out to his companion:

“Look here! This is full of parcels that haven’t even been untied. From different stores... Do you want to help me cut the strings?”

The two men proceeded to do the unpacking. They found not only many pairs of slippers, but a number of other heterogeneous objects as well: earthenware plates, cuts of rayon material, combs, toothbrushes, bottles of hair tonic, and a collection of pipes, although the concierge had said that Galmet was not a smoker. In most cases, the price tags were still attached.

“What do you make of it, Doctor?” the Inspector asked.

“I don’t think he was a shoplifter. None of these things has sufficient value to justify theft. Nor was he a kleptomaniac — you’ve noticed they were all carefully wrapped and many of them had a cashier’s check tucked under the string.”

“Do you think Galmet had an abnormal passion for shopgirls and made these purchases simply to have an excuse for talking to them? In the long run, that would involve his spending a lot of money. The slippers alone cost him over a thousand francs a day. And he couldn’t afford to be that extravagant... Shall I give you my honest opinion?”

Inspector Lucas paused, and when Dollent nodded the Inspector went on: “Don’t-be too cocky over what I am going to say. I know your methods by now and I know under what circumstances each of us works better. Well, to be frank this is your kind of case. There’s something... well, pathological about it. Galmet’s not the type we’re accustomed to deal with. And his murderer quite terrifies me with his cold-blooded assurance...”

Instead of thanking Lucas for the compliment, the Little Doctor gave a deep sigh.

“You’re not too keen about the case either?” queried the Inspector.