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'His artistry is supreme' John Banville'What was he doing there? A hundred times, in the middle of an investigation, he'd had the same feeling of helplessness or, rather, futility. …

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray In everyone's eyes, even the old ladies hiding behind their quivering curtains, even the kids just now who had turned to stare after …

'The father of contemporary European detective fiction' Ann CleevesA man picked up for wandering in obvious distress among the cars and buses on the Grands Boulevards. Questioned …

'The father of contemporary European detective fiction' Ann CleevesIt had a smell of holidays. The previous evening, in Cannes harbour, with the setting sun, had also had the smell …

'His artistry is supreme' John Banville'This was natural. It is the same everywhere. Rarely, however, had Maigret had such a strong sense of a clique. In a small town like this, of …

'His artistry is supreme' John BanvilleThey suddenly found themselves in an impersonal world, where everyday words no longer seemed to mean anything, where the most mundane details …

'The father of contemporary European detective fiction' Ann Cleeves'A radiant late afternoon. The sunshine almost as thick as syrup in the quiet streets of the Left Bank . . .there …

'His artistry is supreme' John BanvilleIt was as if suddenly, long ago, life had stopped here, not the life of the man lying on the bed but the life of the house, the life of its …

Three seasonal stories set in Paris at Christmas, from the celebrated creator of Inspector Maigret.It is Christmas in Paris, but beneath the sparkling lights and glittering …

'His artistry is supreme' John Banville'He was wearing a dark suit, a beige raincoat and on his feet, which were twisted at an odd angle, he wore yellow-brown shoes, which seemed …

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray 'The palm trees around the railway station were motionless, fixed in a Saharan sun . . . It really felt as if they were stepping …

'Compelling, remorseless, brilliant' John Gray 'At what point in the day could the note have been slipped into his pocket, his left breast pocket?It was an ordinary sheet of …