By Georges Simenon
Set within the oppressively squalid streets of Paris, A Man's Head gains Simenon's famed detective as he tracks a killer at the run, whereas the writer's sharp prose inspires the ambience of Parisian luxurious inns, seedy bars, and darkish alleys.
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Additional info for A Man's Head (Inspector Maigret, Book 5)
Tis the gentleman, sir. ” The boy straightened a little and shook his head. “He appears to be dead, sir. ” It was but a short walk from Jackson's in Bond Street to their destination in Portman Square, but even so, Morton's long, purposeful stride soon had the boy out of breath again, precluding conversation. Following along the dimly lit street came the hollow echo of a tired horse and tradesman's cart, the owner shuffling numbly beside. A pile of cobbles and rubble forced Morton and the boy outside the line of iron posts that protected unwary pedestrians from street traffic.
But, then, what could Morton say? They had an “understanding,” of sorts, and gentlemen like Lord Arthur Darley were part of it. Gentlemen of quality. Likely married. A man who did not find his money chasing criminals through the streets of London. Arabella raised her head and stared at him rather defiantly. Morton looked down at the scrap of paper he still held in his hand. Unfolding it, he held it up to the light and read aloud. “It will find you soon enough, The empty night after the day. ” Arabella asked.
Lord Arthur clasped her hands. “And how are you, my dear? Are you sure you wish to be in here? ” Arabella's eye strayed to the dead man. “No, I'm well. I have just sent Miss Hamilton home with her brother. She did not want to leave but her friends prevailed. Poor thing,” she said, her eyes glistening. “Yes, poor Louisa,” Darley agreed. Morton felt his head shake involuntarily. Arabella Malibrant was no more a shrinking violet than Morton himself. He was sure she could step over a corpse in the street and not interrupt her conversation.