Maigret and the Death of a Harbor-Master

Maigret and the Death of a Harbor-Master

Georges Simenon

Language: English

Pages: 182

ISBN: 0156551616

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Maigret and the Death of a Harbor-Master

Georges Simenon

Language: English

Pages: 182

ISBN: 0156551616

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


The regularity of life in a quiet village on the English Channel is broken when the local harbor-master is murdered. Inspector Maigret, down from Paris, is on unfamiliar ground here as he plunges into the harborside gloom, searching for killer and motive. Translated by Stuart Gilbert.A Helen and Kurt Wolff Book

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light approached. Then came sounds of someone walking on a deck, of canvas falling with a rattle of rings along the forestay. A mainsail glided by, so close they could have touched it. “How the devil did they manage it?” Delcourt exclaimed in a puzzled tone. Then, turning towards the schooner, he shouted: “Carry on! Shove her nose in under the port quarter of the steamer or you’ll foul the gates.” A man with a hawser had sprung ashore, and now, his arms akimbo, was gazing round him. “Is that

always jumped on his knee and stayed there till he went to bed.” So profound was the calm as to seem almost ominous. A warm, enervating languor. “Are you quite sure you’ve nothing more to tell me, Julie?” She looked up and gazed at him in a puzzled way. “I rather think,” Maigret went on, “that I’m on the point of finding out the truth. A word from you might help enormously. That’s why I ask if you have nothing more to tell me.” “But I’ve told you everything I know.” “Nothing more about

type that figures as a prize at country fairs, the humble household god of many a French cottage kitchen. “Yes. It’s not too late; you’ll find them up. The hotel’s just beyond the lock, behind the café I showed you from the taxi.” But she was obviously in half a mind to implore him to stay. She seemed to dread the idea of being left alone with the Captain, at whom she could no longer bring herself to glance. “Are you sure there’s nobody hiding in the house?” “You could see for yourself there

determined not to speak. “On the morning of the sixteenth the Saint Michel sailed. Who was her passenger? Was Martineau still on board? Was Joris with you?” Maigret did not put his questions in the tone of an examining magistrate; not even in that of a police officer. His manner was completely cordial, there was a humorous twinkle in his eye. He might have been playing a guessing game at a family party. “You went to England. Then you set a course for Holland. Was it there that Martineau and

wonder if you see what I’m driving at?” Maigret saw it very well. He had spent some hours in Joris’a home, the tidy, well-appointed home of a man of modest means and quiet tastes. The men here were of a very different type—rougher, more free-and-easy in their ways. Here short drinks went down, he guessed, at a high speed; voices rose, the atmosphere grew thick, the talk a trifle bawdy on occasion. Joris dropped in simply for a game of cards, never talked about his private affairs, and departed

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