Inspector Maigret

'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

'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

‘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

'The father of contemporary European detective fiction' Ann Cleeves

All that was still unclear, for sure. Ernest Malik had been right when he had looked at Maigret with a smile that was a mixture of sarcasm and contempt. This wasn't a case for him. He was out of his depth. This world was unfamiliar to him, and he had difficulty piecing it all together.

Peacefully tending his garden in the countryside, Maigret is called upon to investigate a rich family with skeletons in their cupboard - and finds himself confronted by lies, snobbery and malice.

'His artistry is supreme' John Banville

‘Gem-hard soul-probes . . . not just the world's bestselling detective series, but an imperishable literary legend . . . he exposes secrets and crimes not by forensic wizardry, but by the melded powers of therapist, philosopher and confessor’ Boyd Tonkin, The Times

'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

High up in Montmartre, there was a festive atmosphere, people were crowding round the little tables where rosé wine was being served ... Yet a hundred metres further on, the little alleyways were deserted, and the killer might find it easy to pounce

Detective Chief Inspector Maigret is known for his infallible instinct, for getting at the truth no matter how complex the case, but when someone starts killing women on the streets of Montmartre, he finds himself confounded. Under increasing pressure, Maigret brings together officers from across the city in a trap that finally catches the murderer out...

'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

'The father of contemporary European detective fiction' Ann Cleeves

'Maigret would have found it difficult to formulate an opinion of him. Intelligent, yes, certainly, and highly so, as far as one could tell from what lay beneath some of his utterances. Yet alongside that, there was a naive, rather childish side to him.'

Maigret is savouring a beautiful spring morning in Paris when an aspiring film-maker draws his attention to a much less inspiring scene, one where ever-changing loyalties can have tragic consequences.

'His artistry is supreme' John Banville

'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century' Guardian

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?

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray

'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'

When one of his best inspectors is shot, Maigret decides to book himself into Mademoiselle Clément's well-kept Paris boarding house nearby in order to find the culprit.

'One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century' Guardian

'A supreme writer . . . unforgettable vividness' Independent

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray

I can still see Simenon coming into my office the next day, pleased with himself, displaying even more self-confidence, if possible, than before, but nevertheless with a touch of anxiety in his eyes.'

Maigret sets the record straight and tells the story of his own life, giving a rare glimpse into the mind of the great inspector - and the writer who would immortalise him.

'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

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray

'At what point in the day could the note have been slipped into his pocket, his left breast pocket?
It was an ordinary sheet of glazed squared paper, probably torn out of an exercise book. The words were written in pencil, in a regular handwriting that looked to him like a woman's.

For pity's sake, ask to see the patient in room 15.'

When Inspector Maigret's wife falls ill on their seaside holiday, a visit to the hospital leads him on an unexpected quest to find justice for a young girl.
This novel has been published in previous translations as No Vacation for Maigret and A Summer Holiday.

'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