Showing results by author "Simenon Georges" in All Categories

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.

'He hadn't seen her arrive. She had stopped on the pavement a few steps away from him and was peering into the courtyard of the Police Judiciaire, where the small staff cars were parked. She ventured as far as the entrance, looked the officer up and down, then turned round and walked away towards the Pont-Neuf.' When an old lady tells Maigret someone has been moving things in her apartment, she is dismissed as a fantasist - until a shocking event proves otherwise.

Set in the in the atmospheric and squalid streets of Paris, Maigret sets out to prove the innocence of a man condemned to death for a brutal murder. In another one of Maigret's unconventional and audacious plans, he arranges the escape of the condemned man in an attempt to prove his theory. The presumed murderer goes on the run across Paris and its suburbs, dropping misleading clues along the way and leading Maigret into the labyrinthine twists of the mystery.

Maggio 1940. Le truppe della Wehrmacht dilagano in Belgio e minacciano i confini della Francia. Nel carro bestiame di un convoglio che procede lentissimo verso il sud, un uomo incontra una donna di cui non saprà altro, per tutto il tempo che passeranno insieme, se non che è una cèca di origine ebrea, e che è stata in prigione a Namur. Sarà l’inizio di una passione amorosa di cui Simenon ci racconta (caso rarissimo) anche i momenti di più bruciante erotismo; una passione che isolerà un uomo e una donna da tutto ciò che accade intorno a loro.

When a French professor visiting the quiet Dutch coastal town of Delfzjil is accused of murder, Maigret is sent to investigate. The community seem happy to blame an unknown outsider, but there are people much closer to home who seem to know much more than they're letting on: Beetje, the dissatisfied daughter of a local farmer; Any van Elst, sister-in-law of the deceased; and, of course, a notorious local crook.

Maigret savoured the sensations of his youth again: the cold, stinging eyes, frozen fingertips, an aftertaste of coffee. Then, stepping inside the church, a blast of heat, soft light; the smell of candles and incense. The last time Maigret went home to the village of his birth was for his father's funeral. Now an anonymous note predicting a crime during All Souls' Day mass draws him back there, where troubling memories resurface and hidden vices are revealed. Georges Simenon was born in Liège, Belgium, in 1903.

In seinem Ur-Maigret, dem 0. Fall der Maigret-Reihe, der erst 2020 erstmals ins Deutsche übertragen wurde, fühlt man sich sogleich in die typische Szenerie eines Maigret-Romans versetzt: ein Pfeife rauchender Kommissar, diesige Pariser Nächte und seltsame Gestalten auf den Straßen. Es ist spät geworden, die Büros am Quai des Orfèvres sind verwaist. Nur bei Kommissar Maigret bullert noch der Kanonenofen. Da bekommt er überraschend Besuch: Eine junge Frau bekennt sich eines Mordes für schuldig. Nachdem Maigret kurz abgelenkt wird, ist sie verschwunden.

Seit einem Jahr ist Maigret im Ruhestand. In seinem Häuschen duftet es nach köstlichen Ragouts und im Garten nach reifem Obst. Da wendet sich ein amerikanischer Millionärssohn an ihn - sein Vater werde bedroht, er brauche Maigrets Hilfe. Der muss nicht lange überlegen und besteigt mit dem jungen Mann ein Schiff nach New York. Kaum von Bord, verschwindet sein Auftraggeber spurlos. Maigret macht sich dennoch an die Arbeit, durchstreift die Bronx, das Greenwich Village. Mit dem American Way of Life allerdings kommt er gar nicht zurecht.

Era diventata la favola del commissariato, la povera Cécile. Da sei mesi arrivava lì di buon mattino, si sedeva e sperava che Maigret la ricevesse. Una signorina mesta, bruttina, con un ridicolo cappellino verde che non le donava. Diceva che di notte qualcuno entrava di soppiatto nell'appartamento in cui viveva con una vecchia zia inferma, proprietaria di tutta la palazzina.

The death of a homeless man in a condemned building in Les Halles leads Maigret on the trail of the vagrant's mysterious past and an event that happened years ago in the close-knit community of Montmartre.

A once-wealthy family closes ranks when one of their own is shot, leaving Maigret - along with a troublesome new magistrate - to pick his way through their secrets.

Inspector Maigret is meant to be taking a holiday, but he can't resist following the development of his colleague Janvier's case in the papers - and playing a few tricks on the way. Standing at the window in the middle of the morning, vaguely observing the comings and goings in the street, he had a feeling that reminded him of certain days in his childhood, when his mother was still alive and he was off school because he had the flu or it was the end of term. It was the feeling of finding out what went on when he wasn't there.

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.

A new translation, by David Bellos, of this chilling novel, set on the Belgian border. "She wasn't an ordinary supplicant. She didn't lower her eyes. There was nothing humble about her bearing. She spoke frankly, looking straight ahead, as if to claim what was rightfully hers. 'If you don't agree to look at our case, my parents and I will be lost, and it will be the most hateful legal error..." Maigret is asked to the windswept, rainy border town of Givet by a young woman desperate to clear her family of murder.

A new translation of Georges Simenon's gripping tale of lost identity. 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.

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.

A new translation of Georges Simenon's sensational tale of deceit and back-stabbing in an isolated community, part of the new Maigret series. Maigret has been interrogating Carl Andersen for 17 hours without a confession. He's either innocent or a very good liar. So why was the body of a diamond merchant found at his isolated mansion? Why is his sister always shut away in her room? And why does everyone at Three Widows Crossroads have something to hide?

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.

'You see, I mainly work at night. I've ended up getting to know everybody. They're used to me in Pigalle, I exchange a few words with this person or that person. I go into the bars and cabarets where they give me a quarter bottle of Vichy without waiting for me to order anything.' An anonymous tip-off regarding the death of a restaurant owner sends Maigret into the world of Parisian nightlife, a notorious criminal gang and a man known as 'the Flea'. This novel has been pubished in a previous translation as Maigret and the Flea.

'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.