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Georges Simenon

‘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 
 In this classic novel, a dramatic case unfolds while Inspector Maigret is visiting colleagues in America 
 
 ‘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’ 
 
 Inspector Maigret is touring the United States to observe American policing methods, when a visit to a troubling coroner’s inquest in Arizona sparks a fascination with the story of a young girl and five airmen in the desert. 
 '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 Gets Angry

Inspector Maigret

During a quiet spell in June Maigret is called to investigate the disappearance of a reputable businessman. When a body is discovered near the famous Père Lachaise cemetery Maigret struggles to find any clues to the perpetrator and loses his temper when his own reputation is threatened by the case.

Maigret's Anger

At a dinner party, Maigret recounts an old case in which Adrien Josset is found guilty and executed for the murder of his wife, Christine. As the case develops under the controlling hand of the magistrate, all clues point to Josset's guilt yet Maigret is left unconvinced following his one interview with him. Years after the case, Maigret still doubts the true identity of the murderer.

Maigret's Secret

Inspector Maigret is followed home one evening by a man who reveals his intention to kill his wife and her lover. Maigret intervenes and speaks to the man daily but when the calls suddenly stop Maigret finds a murder on his hands.

Maigret and the Saturday Caller

Instead of the detail filling itself in and becoming clearer, it seemed to escape him. The face of the man in the ill-fitting coat just misted up so that it hardly looked human. In theory this mental portrait was good enough, but now it was replaced by fleeting images which should have added up to one and the same man but which refused to get themselves into focus. 
 
The circumstances of Monsieur Gallet's death all seem fake: the name the deceased was travelling under and his presumed profession, and more worryingly, his family's grief. Their haughtiness seems to hide ambiguous feelings about the hapless man. In this haunting story, Maigret discovers the appalling truth and the real crime hidden behind the surface of lies.

The Late Monsieur Gallet

'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

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

A vast emptiness. The room, in the darkness, seemed big as a cathedral. Warm currents of air still drifted from the radiators. 
Delfosse struck a match. They paused for a moment to take a breath and get their bearings. And suddenly the match dropped. A piercing shriek came from Delfosse . . . Chabot saw something too. 
 
Maigret observes from a distance as two boys are accused of killing a rich foreigner in Liège. Their loyalty, which binds them together through their adventures in the seedier side of the city, is put to the test and seemingly irrelevant social differences threaten their friendship.

The Dancer at the Gai-Moulin

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

'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

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray 
 
When he got to his door, he was surprised not to hear any noise in the kitchen and not to smell any food. He went in, crossed the dining room, where the table had not been laid, and at last saw Madame Maigret, in her slip, busy taking off her stockings. This was so unlike her that he could find nothing to say, and when she saw him standing there wide-eyed, she burst out laughing. 
 
Inspector Maigret's wife turns sleuth after a strange encounter in a Paris square leads her on the trail of a woman in a white hat, and towards a grisly tale of deception and greed. 
 
Penguin is publishing the entire series of Maigret novels in new translations. 
 
'His artistry is supreme' John Banville 
 
'A supreme writer . . . unforgettable vividness' Independent

Madame Maigret's Friend

When a socially isolated vagrant is found dead in the condemned building where he had been sleeping in Les Halles, Paris, Maigret must delve into the victim's mysterious past to discover who could have killed him.

Maigret and the Loner

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

A man picked up for wandering in obvious distress among the cars and buses on the Grands Boulevards. Questioned in French, he remains mute . . . A madman? In Maigret's office, he is searched. His suit is new, his underwear is new, his shoes are new. All identifying labels have been removed. No identification papers. No wallet. Five crisp thousand-franc bills have been slipped into one of his pockets.

The Misty Harbour

The body of a well-known Parisian restaurateur turns up on Avenue Junot in Montmartre, seemingly having been killed elsewhere. Inspector Maigret is on the case, and soon discovers that the murder may be gang-related after a colleague working in the red-light district receives a tip from an anonymous informer.

Maigret and the Informer

The mood of the town was still jittery. It was all very well for people to go about their day-to-day activities as usual, there was a certain anxiety in people's eyes and they seemed to be walking faster, as if they were afraid the murderer would suddenly appear. Maigret would have sworn the housewives didn't normally stand around on the doorsteps talking in hushed tones.

Maigret is Afraid

Maigret had questioned thousands, tens of thousands of people in the course of his career, some occupying important positions, others who were more famous for their wealth, and others still who were considered the most intelligent of international criminals. 
 
Yet he attached an importance to this interrogation he had attached to no previous interrogation, and it wasn't Gouin's social position that overawed him,or his worldwide fame.

Maigret's Mistake

'The father of contemporary European detective fiction' Ann Cleeves 
 
'Maigret had never been comfortable in certain circles, among the wealthy bourgeoisie where he felt clumsy and awkward ... Built like a labourer, Oscar Chabut had hauled himself up into this little world through sheer hard work and, to convince himself that he was accepted, he felt the need to sleep with most of the women.' 
 
When a wealthy wine merchant is shot in a Paris street, Maigret must investigate a long list of the ruthless businessman's enemies before he can get to the sad truth of the affair. 
 
'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century' Guardian

Maigret and the Wine Merchant

When a tramp is recovered from the Seine, after being badly beaten, Maigret must delve into the man's personal circumstances to figure out just who wanted to kill him.

Maigret and the Tramp

A first ink drawing showed a hanged man swinging from a gallows on which perched an enormous crow. And hanging was the leitmotif of at least twenty other etchings and pen or pencil sketches. 
On the edge of a forest: a man hanging from every branch. 
A church steeple: beneath the rooster atop the weather vane, a human body dangled from each arm of the cross . . . below another sketch were written four lines from Villon's Ballade des Pendus. 
 
On a trip to Brussels, Maigret unwittingly causes a man's suicide, but his own remorse is overshadowed by the discovery of the sordid events that drove the desperate man to shoot himself.

The Hanged Man of Saint-Pholien

When a tape recorder is found on a murder victim, Inspector Maigret hopes this will be the clue he needs to track down the killer.

Maigret and the Killer

The most exasperating of all was the head clerk at reception, in his elegant morning coat and stiff collar, which was not wilting with a drop of perspiration. He was treating Maigret in a cordial way, or possibly feeling sorry for him, as from time to time he flashed him a smile, intended to be both complicit and encouraging.

Maigret's Revolver

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

It was indeed a photo, a picture of a woman. But the face was completely hidden, scribbled all over in red ink. Someone had tried to obliterate the head, someone very angry. The pen had bitten into the paper. There were so many criss-crossed lines that not a single square millimetre had been left visible. 
 
On the other hand, below the head, the torso had not been touched. A pair of large breasts. A light-coloured silk dress, very tight and very low cut. 
 
Sailors don't talk much to other men, especially not to policemen. But after Captain Fallut's body is found floating near his trawler, they all mention the Evil Eye when they speak of the Ocean's voyage.

The Grand Banks Café

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

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

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

A short, sprightly man appeared in the doorway, looked left and right, and went back into the passage. A moment later, the improbable happened. The little man reappeared, bent over, clinging to a long mass that he now started dragging through the mud. 
 
It must have been heavy. After four metres, he stopped to catch his breath. The front door of the house had been left open. The sea was still twenty or thirty metres away.

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