Friend of Madame Maigret (Inspector Maigret, Book 34)
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In The Friend of Madame Maigret, Simenon's economic prose brilliantly portrays the Marais quarter of Paris and those who haunt its narrow streets as Inspector Maigret attempts to prove that a murder has actually been committed without a corpse anywhere to be found. As the investigation becomes increasingly complex, seemingly unconnected characters are drawn into the case, and Maigret begins to wonder if his wife's earlier strange encounter with a woman and her baby may be the missing link.
time he would reply in the same terms, with remarkable equanimity. Maigret would have liked to get to know him better but for the last three weeks the man hadn’t belonged to him anymore but to Dossin, who would have him brought up, with his lawyer, twice a week on an average. Fundamentally Steuvels must have been a shy man. The odd thing was that the judge was a shy man too. Noticing the initial G. before his name, the chief inspector had once made so bold as to ask him his Christian name, and
give you his description and all the rest of it. Put out a general alert. But he’s not to be arrested. If he’s found, they must try not to arouse his suspicion. Get it?” “I get it, Chief. Someone’s just spotted the child again.” “Where?” “Avenue Denfert-Rochereau. I’ve sent someone over. I’m waiting. I haven’t got enough men available any more. There’s also been a call from the Gare du Nord. Torrence has gone there.” He felt like walking a bit, in the rain, and went through the place
time?” “No. It’s only just struck me. Maybe she left in a private car.” “You don’t know whether the son-in-law, Krynker, owned a car?” “Certainly he did! A big chocolate-colored American one.” “Thank you. I’ll probably see you tomorrow morning.” He went over to the desk, where the assistant manager in his black coat and striped trousers insisted on finding the registration slips himself. “She left the hotel on February 16, during the evening. I have her bill right here.” “Was she alone?”
connects the offices of Police Headquarters with the Palais de Justice. It had become a routine, dating from about the same time that Madame Maigret first went to see her dentist in the Ninth Arrondissement. The chief inspector was entering the examining magistrates’ corridor, where there were always some queer characters waiting on the benches, some of them between two policemen, and was knocking at the door that bore the name of Judge Dossin. “Come in.” In height Monsieur Dossin was the
much, because of the crisis, and we decided to take a lodger. We put an advertisement in the paper. “That’s how we got to know Monsieur Peeters.” “What did he say his profession was?” “He told us that he represented a big English manufacturing firm, that he had his own clients, so there was no need for him to go out much. Sometimes he’d spend the whole day at home and come and give us a hand, in his shirtsleeves. You see, we all work on the toys, for which my father makes the models. Last