Résultats de "Georges Simenon" dans Toutes les catégories

A visit from the tall, thin woman he arrested many years ago - now married to a hapless burglar - leads Maigret on a tortuous investigation in which he struggles with a formidable suspect. This novel has been published in previous translations as Maigret and the Burglar's Wife.'

Maigret grapples with the American justice system on a trip to Arizona in this new translation, novel 32 of the new Penguin Maigret series. 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 called to the home of professional gambler Felix Nahour, who has been found shot dead by his chambermaid. Maigret is shocked to recognise a photo of the man's wife, who becomes the main suspect. All signs point to her guilt, but Maigret suspects there might be more to this complicated affair.

This novel has been published in a previous translation as Maigret on the Defensive.

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.

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. Conflict rather than harmony probably reigned in eight out of 10 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.

Inspector Maigret must untangle the web of lies left behind by a murdered man whose family didn't know him as well as they thought. When a man is found stabbed to death in an alley off Boulevard Saint-Martin, his identity card shows a workplace that had gone out of business three years earlier. As far as his wife knew, he still worked there, and she insists that the shoes and a tie he was wearing when he was killed 'couldn't be his'.

'Past acquaintances resurface in the sun-drenched south of France in this new translation.' The palm trees around the railway station were motionless, fixed in a Saharan sun.... It really felt as if they were stepping into another world, and they were embarrassed to be entering it in the dark clothes that had been suited to the rainy streets of Paris the evening before.

Leaning on the banisters, Madame Maigret watched her husband going heavily downstairs.... What the newspapers didn't know was how much energy he put into trying to understand, how much he concentrated during certain investigations. It was as if he identified with the people he was hunting and suffered the same torments as they did.

Georges Simenon's autobiographical notebooks, in which he recorded his observations, experiences, anxieties and 'all the silly ideas that pass through my head', are one of the most candid self-portraits of a writer ever put to paper. Here, as the celebrated author ruthlessly examines his tortuous writing methods, his past, his fame, his intimate relationships and his fears of ageing, the result is an unsparing, often painfully revealing insight into a man trying both to find and to escape himself.

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 and his fellow inspector Lognon find themselves trying to outmanoeuver each other when they investigate the case of a mysterious young woman whose new life in Paris is tragically cut short. Maigret wouldn't have admitted that what intrigued him most was the victim's face. All he had seen of it so far was one profile. Was it the bruises that gave her that sullen air? She looked like a bad-tempered little girl. Her combed-back brown hair was very smooth but naturally wavy.

Mit Kommissar Maigret hat Georges Simenon einen unsterblichen Ermittler geschaffen. Er versetzt sich in das Opfer und die Verdächtigen hinein, begibt sich in ihr Milieu, will die Menschen verstehen. Ganz gleich ob Maigret einen Betrüger entlarven soll, den Mord eines Handlungsreisenden aufklären muss oder den Spuren des gelben Hundes folgt, immer sind es Maigret ungewöhnlichen Ermittlungsansätze, die zur Lösung des Falles führen.

L'un des romans les plus noirs de Simenon. Un soir, dans une bourgade de la banlieue new-yorkaise, alors que sa femme Christine est allée faire un bridge chez des amis, Spencer Ashby reste chez lui. Après avoir corrigé les copies de ses élèves, il s'adonne à son passe-temps favori, la sculpture sur bois. Les Ashby, ménage très uni, hébergent depuis un mois la fille d'une amie de Christine, Belle Sherman. Celle-ci revient avant la fin de la soirée, pendant que Spencer est toujours occupé dans son cagibi.

Unvergleichlich und unvergessen: Auch 35 Jahre nach dem Tod von Georges Simenon hat sein Kommissar Maigret in den Herzen aller Krimiliebhaber:innen einen festen Platz. Ganz gleich, ob es um Mord an einem Dimanthändler, einen Einbruch mit tödlichen Folgen oder um die seltsamen Machenschaften auf einem Schiffskutter geht – intuitiv und einfühlsam löst Maigret alle Fälle auf seine unverwechselbare Art.

Nineteen-year-old Frank - thug, thief, son of a brothel owner - gets by surprisingly well despite living in a city under military occupation, but a warm house and a full stomach are not enough to make him feel truly alive in such a climate of deceit and betrayal. During a bleak, unending winter, he embarks on a string of violent and sordid crimes that set him on a path from which he can never return. Georges Simenon's matchless novel is a brutal, compelling portrayal of a world without pity; a devastating journey through a psychological no-man's land.

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. This novel has been published in a previous translation as Maigret Has Doubts.

Maigrets übersinnlichster Fall: die Macht des bösen Blicks und eine sehr verführerische Frau. Der Fischdampfer Océan muss vom bösen Blick getroffen worden sein: Zuerst bricht sich ein Matrose ein Bein, dann geht ein Schiffsjunge über Bord, und dann stellt man fest, dass die Hälfte des Kabeljaus verdorben ist. Kurz darauf wird der Kapitän des Schiffes ermordet aufgefunden. Ein alter Schulfreund bittet Maigret, sich in die Ermittlungen einzuschalten. Kurzerhand verlegt der Kommissar den gemeinsamen Urlaub mit seiner Frau vom Elsass in die Normandie.

Kein Fall für Maigret? Der Kommissar darf nicht ermitteln. Im winterlichen Bois de Boulogne wird eine Leiche gefunden: Es ist Honoré Cuendet, ein sympathischer Dieb, der fast so etwas wie ein Freund für den Kommissar war. Doch Maigret soll nicht ermitteln. Ist der brutale Mord an einem kleinen Gauner alter Schule weniger wichtig als die Machenschaften einer skrupellosen Verbrecherbande? Maigret widersetzt sich der Staatsanwaltschaft - und ermittelt gemeinsam mit dem lokalen Inspektor.

Paris comes under siege when someone starts killing women on the streets one summer - and Maigret must hatch a plan to lure the murderer out. It was 4 August. The windows were wide open but brought no relief, since they allowed in even more warm air, which seemed to be rising from the melting tarmac, the burning hot stonework and even the Seine itself: one could imagine the river steaming like a pan of water on a stove.

George Simenon's devastating tale of misfortune, betrayal and the weakness of family ties, translated by Anthea Bell. 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.