My parents had three or four Maigret novels on their bookshelves and this was one of them. I read it when I was a teenager. I can’t remember what I thought of it, but it probably set my image of the Maigret world: Paris, winter, cold, rain (although there is snow in Maigret in Montmartre), night time, bars and seedy clubs, figures wrapped up in overcoats…and, of course, all to be imagined in black and white. Maigret in Montmartre is a well structured police procedural: compared to the early Maigret novels it is better constructed…or, at least, everything is there to push on the narrative: the earlier ones might have strange byways. Whether you think Simenon had perfected the form or become too narrow in allowing the police procedural format to dominate, is probably a matter of taste. A young woman, a stripper in a night club, comes forward to tell the police that she has overheard a murder plot; she is a bit drunk and, in the morning, after she has spent the night in the police waiting room, she retracts her story; but, on going home, she is murdered. Then there is a second crime, the murder that the young woman had warned about. We follow Maigret as he shifts through the case. It is not a whodunit: there is only one suspect, the problem is identifying him and then finding him. Mme Maigret doesn’t get much of a look-in in this one and, as always, I can never remember which of Maigret’s assistants is which – although Maigret in Montmartre was a young detective who knew and loved the murdered woman. As always, there are a series of subsidiary characters or witnesses that are vividly portrayed by Simenon with a few quick brushstrokes – notably the owners and staff of the club where the victim worked. One character is signified a degenerate: he is a drug addict and gay, both are aspects of his degeneracy: the novel presumes we agree with this designation. Slightly longer than most Maigret stories, it does what you should expect a Maigret story to do, but perhaps in slightly too orderly a way.