Katie Flynn is the pen name of the much-loved writer, Judy Turner, who published over ninety novels in her lifetime. Judy's unique stories were inspired by hearing family recollections of life in Liverpool during the early twentieth century, and her books went on to sell more than eight million copies. Judy passed away in January 2019, aged 82. 
 
The legacy of Katie Flynn lives on through her daughter, Holly Flynn, who continues to write under the Katie Flynn name. Holly worked as an assistant to her mother for many years and together they co-authored a number of Katie Flynn novels. 
 
Holly lives in the north east of Wales with her husband Simon and their two children. When she's not writing she enjoys walking her dog Tara in the surrounding countryside, and cooking forbidden foods such as pies, cakes and puddings! She looks forward to sharing many more Katie Flynn stories, which she and her mother devised together, with readers in the years to come.

Katie Flynn

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Georges Simenon

There was a strong mistral blowing. I don't know what the mistral was doing there, but from what I've understood it has a certain importance. It's because of the mistral, in particular, that Marcellin, rather than going to sleep on his boat as he usually does, headed for a shack that stands near the harbour, where the fishermen store their nets.

My Friend Maigret

Inspector Maigret

'She came forward, the outlines of her figure blurred in the half-light. She came forward like a film star, or rather like the ideal woman in an adolescent's dream. 'I gather you wish to talk to me, Inspector . . . but first of all please sit down . . .' Her accent was more pronounced than Carl's. Her voice sang, dropping on the last syllable of the longer words.' 
 
Maigret has been interrogating Carl Andersen for seventeen hours without a confession. He's either innocent or a very good liar. So why was the body of a diamond merchant found at his isolated mansion? Why is his sister always shut away in her room? And why does everyone at Three Widows Crossroads have something to hide?

Night at the Crossroads

'The father of contemporary European detective fiction' Ann Cleeves 
 
'Maigret looked at him in some confusion, wondering if he waas dealing with a skilful actor or, on the contrary, with a sickly little man who found consolation in a subtle sense of humour.' 
 
A series of anonymous letters lead Maigret into the wealthy household of an eminent laywer and a curious game of cat and mouse with Paris high society. 
 
'His artistry is supreme' John Banville 
 
'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century' Guardian

Maigret Hesitates

Maigret and fellow inspector Lognon clash in their investigations into the murder of an unknown young woman in Paris. Maigret endeavours to piece together the story of the girl and in doing so uncovers details about her past and her character that lead him to the truth behind her tragic demise.

Maigret and the Dead Girl

What he thought he had discovered, in place of the joyful candour that she usually displayed, was an irony which was neither less cheerful nor less childish, but which troubled him . . . He wondered now if his exultation wasn't down to the fact that she was playing a part, not just to deceive him, not just to hide something from him, but for the pleasure of acting a part.

Maigret Takes a Room

In his mind's eye he would see that slim figure in the striking clothes, those wide eyes the colour of forget-me-not, the pert nose and especially the hat, that giddy, crimson bonnet perched on the top of her head with a bronze-green feather shaped like a blade stuck in it . . . Félicie had given him more trouble than all the 'hard' men who had been put behind bars.

Félicie

The moon must have risen above the mist, which was now faintly incandescent, and, when Arlette stopped, he saw the pale shape of her face, with the wide line of her mouth . . .Then, still standing there in front of him, she said in a changed voice, which was painful to hear: 'And . . . don't you want to take advantage of me, like the others?'

Maigret and the Old Lady

Maigret receives an anonymous phone call concerning the brutal murder of a woman and young child. The tip off concerns the woman's nephew, a mild-mannered man by the name of Gaston Meurant. Maigret remains unconvinced of the man's guilt and at his trial exposes some shocking truths about Meurant's private life that may prove his innocence.

Maigret in Court

When an elegant but nervous woman appears in Inspector Maigret's office and reports her rich and successful husband missing, Maigret and Lapointe find themselves on the trail of a man leading a double life: a prominent Parisian solicitor by day, a playboy known as "Monsieur Charles" by night.

Maigret and Monsieur Charles

Maigret was less angry in fact than he seemed. Pozzo was a tough customer, but he didn't mind that. Nor did he mind dealing with characters who had sent the American police packing. Genuine hard men who played for keeps. . . . Maigret hadn't the slightest idea of the identity of the man who had been tipped out onto the pavement on Rue Fléchier, almost at Inspector Lognon's feet. He didn't even know if the stranger was dead or not.

Maigret, Lognon and the Gangsters

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray 
 
What was it about him that had struck Maigret so forcefully? . . . Little John had cold eyes! . . . Four or five times in his life, he had met people with cold eyes, those eyes that can stare at you without establishing any human contact. 
 
Persuaded to sail to New York by a fearful young law student, Maigret finds himself drawn into the city's underworld, and a wealthy businessman's closely guarded past. 
 
'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century . . . Simenon was unequalled at making us look inside, though the ability was masked by his brilliance at absorbing us obsessively in his stories' Guardian

Maigret in New York

In everyone's eyes, even the old ladies hiding behind their quivering curtains, even the kids just now who had turned to stare after they had passed him, he was the intruder, the undesirable. No, worse, he was fundamentally untrustworthy, some stranger who had just turned up from who knew where to do who knew what.

Inspector Cadaver

'His artistry is supreme' John Banville 
 
Conflict rather than harmony probably reigned in eight out of ten of the still magnificent houses that surrounded the park. But he had rarely had the opportunity to breath such a strained atmosphere as the one between these walls. Everything seemed fake, grating, starting with the lodge of the concierge-cum-manservant, who was neither a concierge nor a manservant, despite his striped waistcoat, but a former poacher, a murderer turned guard dog. 
 
When a self-made man appeals to Maigret for protection at his lavish home, a years-old grudge from the past resurfaces and the inspector finds himself questioning his own motives. 
 
'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century . . . Simenon was unequalled at making us look inside, though the ability was masked by his brilliance at absorbing us obsessively in his stories' Guardian

Maigret's Failure

The Czech was warming up, though in a quiet, almost dull way that was characteristic of the man. Out of the corner of his eye, Maigret noticed his hands, long hands, astonishingly white and slightly freckled. They seemed to warm up to the subject too, and to take part in the conversation. 
 
Maigret sets out to prove the innocence of a man condemned to death for a brutal murder. As his unconventional and audacious plan to uncover the truth unfolds, he encounters rich American expatriates, some truly dangerous characters and their hidden motives.

A Man's Head

He recalled his traveling companion's agitated sleep - was it really sleep - his sighs, and his sobbing. Then two dangling legs in their patent leather boots and hand-knitted socks . . . A lacklustre face. Glazed eyes. And Maigret was not surprised to see a grey beard eating into his cheeks.

The Madman of Bergerac

Half an hour later, he was in Cannes ... White everywhere! Huge white hotels, white shops, white trousers and dresses, white sails out at sea. 
It was as if life were no more than a pantomime fairy-tale, a white and blue fairy-tale. 
 
Dazzled at first by the glamour of sunny Antibes, Maigret soon finds himself immersed in the less salubrious side of the Riviera when he traces the steps of a shabby former spy who is fond of pretty women and dive bars.

Liberty Bar

'There was an exaggerated humility about her. And yet he sensed, beneath that image, glints of pride held firmly in check. She was anaemic. Her flat chest was not formed to rouse desire. Nevertheless, she was strangely appealing, perhaps because she seemed troubled, despondent, sickly.' 
 
In the coastal town of Concarneau, a local wine merchant is shot. Maigret soon realizes that Emma, a downtrodden waitress, is hiding something and that the mysterious yellow dog lurking around town may be the key to solving this crime.

The Yellow Dog

During an undercover case Inspector Lognon is shot in a room he was sharing with a beautiful woman who has since disappeared. Inspector Maigret retraces Lognon's secretive last few days and is drawn into the darker side of the art world.

Maigret and the Ghost

'What he sought, what he waited and watched out for was the crack in the wall. In other words, the instant when the human being comes out from behind the opponent . . .' 
 
Who is Pietr the Latvian? Is he a gentleman thief? A Russian drinking absinthe in a grimy bar? A married Norwegian sea captain? A twisted corpse in a train toilet? Or is he all of these men? In Simenon's first novel featuring Maigret, the laconic detective is taken from grimy dive bars to luxury hotels as he solves this strange enigma.

Pietr the Latvian

Maigret goes to the Belgian border to investigate the disappearance of a young woman.

The Flemish House

A kind but seemingly paranoid old lady turns to Inspector Maigret for help. Against the judgement of his subordinates, he decides to pay a visit to her Parisian apartment to investigate, but is he already too late?

Maigret's Madwoman

Mechanically, he had put his pince-nez down on the blotter and looked at it there with his large, short-sighted eyes. It is at that moment that the strange thing happens. One of the lenses, acting as a mirror, reflected the criss-cross, hatched ink marks which had dried on the blotter and he could just make out a couple of words.

Signed, Picpus

'Just take a look,' Duclos said in an undertone, pointing to the scene all round them, the picture-book town, with everything in its place, like ornaments on the mantlepiece of a careful housewife . . . 'Everyone here earns his living. Everyone's more or less content. And above all, everyone keeps his instincts under control, because that's the rule here, and a necessity if people want to live in society' 
 
When a French professor visiting the quiet, Dutch coastal town of Delfzjil is accused of murder, Maigret is sent to investigate. The community seem happy to blame an unknown outsider, but there are people much closer to home who seem to know much more than they're letting on: Beetje, the dissatisfied daughter of a local farmer, Any van Elst, sister-in-law of the deceased and, of course a notorious local crook.

A Crime in Holland

Were these yellow shoes part of the reason Maigret was so interested in this man? He would never admit it, but for years he too had longed to wear olive-green shoes. They were fashionable at the time, along with those very short beige raincoats.

Maigret and the Man on the Bench

‘Acute psychological insight and a distinctive, spare, atmospheric style … Simenon ought to be spoken of in the same breath as Camus, Beckett and Kafka’ Independent on Sunday 
 Faced with a house of tight-lipped witnesses to a murder, Simenon's legendary Inspector Maigret must change his methods to uncover the truth 
 
 ‘The family and the house had turned in on themselves, acquiring a hostile face in the process’ 
 
 The once-wealthy Lachaume family closes ranks when one of their own is shot dead, claiming to have heard and seen nothing of the murder. This leaves Maigret – along with a troublesome new magistrate who has waded into the case – to pick his way through their shameful secrets. 
 
 'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century' Guardian 
 ‘Gem-hard soul-probes . . . not just the world's bestselling detective series, but an imperishable literary legend’ Boyd Tonkin, The Times

Maigret and the Reluctant Witnesses

When a school teacher from near La Rochelle asks Maigret for help to defend his innocence, Maigret returns with him to a small coastal town and confronts the insular community in order to discover the truth.

Maigret Goes to School

Cars drove past along with the trucks and trams, but by now Maigret had realised that they were not important. Whatever roared by like this along the road was not part of the landscape. ... What really counted was the lock, the hooting of the tugs, the stone crusher, the barges and the cranes, the two pilots' bars and especially the tall house where he could make out Ducrau's red chair framed by a window. 
 
Maigret is drawn into the orbit of the self-made, mercurial Ducrau, as the latter's past catches up with him.

Lock No. 1

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray 
 
The FBI man was convinced, in short, that Maigret was a big shot in his own country but that here, in the United States, he was incapable of figuring out anything . . .well, Maigret happened to believe that men and their passions are the same everywhere. 
 
Maigret is touring the United States to observe American policing methods, when a visit to a coroner's inquest in Arizona draws him into the tragic story of a young woman and five airmen in the desert. 
 
'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century . . . Simenon was unequalled at making us look inside, though the ability was masked by his brilliance at absorbing us obsessively in his stories' Guardian 
 
'A supreme writer . . . unforgettable vividness' Independent

Maigret at the Coroner's

'His artistry is supreme' John Banville 
 
'Once alone in his office, he went over and opened the window as if being in charge of this case made him gasp for a breath of fresh air... It made him feel almost fond of the petty thieves, maniacs, swindlers and offenders of all kinds that he usually had to deal with.' 
 
Maigret has no taste for politics, or politicians, but when he is summoned to a clandestine meeting by a desperate government minister one evening, he finds himself drawn into an unsavoury world of corruption, scandal and cover ups. 
 
'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century . . . Simenon was unequalled at making us look inside, though the ability was masked by his brilliance at absorbing us obsessively in his stories' Guardian 
 
'A supreme writer . . . unforgettable vividness' Independent

Maigret and the Minister

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray 
 
'He opened the door for her and watched her walk away down the huge corridor, then hesitate at the top of the stairs. Heads turned as she passed. You sensed she came from a different world, the world of the night, and there was something almost indecent about her in the harsh light of a winter's day' 
 
A young cabaret dancer in a black silk dress leads Maigret into a seamy world of nightclubs, drug addiction and exploitation on the streets of Montmartre. 
 
 
This novel has been published in previous translations as Maigret and the Strangled Stripper and Maigret in Montmartre. 
 
'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century . . . Simenon was unequalled at making us look inside, though the ability was masked by his brilliance at absorbing us obsessively in his stories' Guardian 
 
'A supreme writer . . . unforgettable vividness' Independent

Maigret at Picratt's

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