Maigret and the Killer

Maigret and the Killer

Georges Simenon

Language: English

Pages: 165

ISBN: 0151551278

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Maigret and the Killer

Georges Simenon

Language: English

Pages: 165

ISBN: 0151551278

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


When the son of a wealthy perfume manufacturer is stabbed to death, his parents reveal to Maigret that he was a loner who wandered Paris taping people's conversations. Among his recordings is that of a group of people conspiring to pull off an art theft, one of them a sailor known to pack a Swedish switchblade. As police interrogate the gang and a high-powered lawyer prepares an elaborate defense, Maigret steps back and patiently waits for the real killer to reveal himself. Also includes "Maigret Sets a Trap" and "Maigret's Christmas". September publication date. 2 cassettes.

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seen that fellow before?’ “ ‘This is the first time.’ “ ‘What about me?’ “ ‘I think I’ve served you three or four times before.’ “ ‘That’s all right, then. Give us the same again.’” The waiter moved off, because a customer was tapping his table with a coin to attract his attention. The customer paid. The waiter gave him his change and helped him on with his coat. Then he came right back to Maigret. “You said there were three of them.” “Yes. The one who spoke to me and who seemed the most

the electric light and where the card players had probably gone on with their game. He would have liked, too, to question the Italian and his wife, and possibly a little old woman whom he had only glimpsed at the lighted window on the first floor of one of the houses. Had she been there when the drama took place? But first he had to notify the parents. He telephoned the duty sergeant of the 11th arrondissement and informed him of the situation. “Did he suffer very much?” he asked Pardon. “I

“That I want to talk to you about…” “I heard you. But I don’t understand. I don’t…” “There’s no point in denying it, Mademoiselle.” “Who told you?” “Your photograph, or rather your photographs. You were outside the house this morning, holding a handkerchief in your clenched fists. You were at the church when the funeral party went in and when it came out, and after that you were at the cemetery.” “Why was I photographed?” “If you would spare me a few minutes and walk along with me, I’ll

much of the conversation. Then they had talked about provincial cooking, cassoulet, potée lorraine, tripes à la mode de Caen, bouillabaisse… “After all, most of these recipes grew out of necessity—if there had been refrigerators right from the Middle Ages…” What else had they talked about? The two women, as usual, had ended up by installing themselves in a corner of the room, where they talked in low tones. Pardon had taken Maigret into his office to show him a rare book that had been given to

he didn’t get in touch with me in any way all day. He needed to step back, to see things in perspective.” “See what things?” “Himself. Did you hear any of what he said?” “No.” “When he was fourteen and a half he killed a boy.” When Maigret went back into the living room Robert Bureau, embarrassed, muttered: “I’m keeping you from your dinner, am I not?” “If we were at the Quai des Orfèvres I would send out for sandwiches and beer. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t do the same here. My wife

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