Lock 14 Book

"There are all kinds of bolt-holes. Some have the smell of whisky, eau de Cologne, a woman and the sounds of gramophone records…."

She didn't look like the type of woman who would be found dead in a stable. She is dressed very well; one might even say with sophistication. She is draped in expensive jewels. She is very pretty. One can't imagine she was frolicking with a stable boy. She looks like the type of woman who does her lovemaking on silk sheets with a glass of champagne close to hand. Her lover would be a man of pedigree, and if he happens to lack the proper family tree, then certainly he must be a man of means.

And yet here she is dead, hastily, ineptly buried in the straw. The ghastly finger marks around her neck indicate a crime of passion. Certainly, it wasn't robbery.

Detective Chief Inspector Maigret of the Flying Squad is assigned to investigate the murder at the canals in Epernay. He is considered by many to be the Sherlock Holmes of French mysteries, but where Holmes relies on reason to solve his cases, Maigret relies on intuition. They both like to smoke pipes, and both routinely solve cases that are considered baffling to others. While Holmes is rail thin, Maigret is chubby due to his fondness for gourmet foods. If other detectives, or in the case of Holmes his friend Watson, are trying to help with a case, they soon learn that it is best to observe and wait to be told how they can best be of assistance. Puzzles are best left to the grand masters.

I have this vision of Maigret walking along the canal with his bowler hat pulled down tightly over his eyes, a pipe clamped between his teeth, and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He is lost in thought as he ponders the slender clues the case has given him.

As Maigret tries to penetrate the close knit community of bargemen, boaters, and the small villages that service their needs, he must tread lightly, or his efforts will be thwarted by a wall of silence. Simenon, the creator of Maigret, was an avid boater. He writes about these canal communities and brings them to life with his sparse, insightful prose. They feel so authentic because Simenon is writing what he saw as he passed through these places with his own boat.

The woman, dead in the straw, was part of a yachting party which included her husband, the colonel, his mistress Madame Negretti, a Russian boat captain named Vladimir, and a young man named Willy, who is one of those people who attaches himself to rich people by the warmth of his personality and the delicate nature of his wit.

As the image of the woman emerges, along with the rather unseemly characteristics of her companions, she certainly isn't who she first appears to be. As the orgies, drinking, and hedonistic lifestyle of herself and her companions come to light, Maigret finds it more and more difficult to feel respect for the victim. She was careless with her person.

Regardless, there is a murderer, and they must be found.

As he investigates, Maigret meets colorful people, such as the woman with the ample bosom who is trying to feed her barge crew while Maigret asks his nonsensical questions. "She spoke with a singsong intonation almost as strong as a southern accent. But she wasn't at all bothered. She waited. She seemed to be protecting the two men with the fullness of her brazen flesh."

Isn't that great? "The fullness of her brazen flesh." I can just see Maigret, flustered, trying to formulate questions while his eyes dip and linger. The embarrassment of seeing the knowing smirk wrinkling the lips of the woman because she knows the power of her female wonder.

The book is full of interesting word choices and fascinating observations.

I also like this description of the carter's hands: "But it fell back again weakly, gnarled, calloused, spotted with small blue dots which must have been the vestiges of old tattoos." The evolution of hands, right? Those hands have done many things. They have experienced various traumas that have changed the topography of the skin.

Hands tell the story of our lives.

There are 85 novels featuring Maigret and numerous short stories, so even though they are each about 150 pages, together they form quite the canon of devotion to the character. I've read that, just as Arthur Conan Doyle tried to kill off Sherlock, Simenon also tried to dispose of his famous character, but found the hue and cry was too much to withstand and wisely resurrected Maigret. Doyle also caved under the pressure.

Some creations must live forever.

It is always a pleasure to spend some time with Maigret. I also enjoy Simenon's stand alone novels, which tend to be grittier and more noirish than the Maigret series. One I recently reviewed is The Widow.

Simenon's are perfect for travelling. I always find it a comfort to stick at least one Simenon book in with the stack of reading companions I choose for each trip. This book is best read with coffee, strawberry jam, and a fluffy croissant.

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