The thoughtless detective

Now, in the first place, I am not intelligent.

Inspector Maigret in Maigret in New York by Georges Simenon

Can you imagine a detective who not only claims not to be intelligent but also says he never uses deductive reasoning or even forms an idea, yet solves scores of difficult cases? Well Georges Simenon could, and from 1931 to 1972 in 75 novels and half as many short stories did just that.

In Maigret in New York (1947), the inspector is retired, even though the novel appeared fairly early in Simenon's career. Apparently the author never expected to still be writing Maigret stories for another 25 years. His retirement is interrupted by a young American who fears for the life of his father, a wealthy American. And so Maigret, perhaps proving he is not very intelligent, boards a ship with Jean Maura and sails to New York City. When the ship docks, however, the young man promptly disappears.

The father, known by all as Little John, shows no anxiety about his son, nor about his own life. He offers to pay Maigret handsomely for his trouble and send him back to Paris. Yet the inspector is bothered by another young man who seems to speak for Little John. It isn't even clear which of the two men is actually running the juke box business responsible for Little John's fortune.

Gradually Maigret gathers information, mostly about Little John's early life as a musician in New York. He uses the services of a private detective, a depressed and alcoholic former clown who is easily the novel's best character, Maigret included. Before long the questions draw the attention of the New York underworld, and one potential witness is murdered.

All this will get the reader thinking, but Maigret just lets the various facts percolate in his brain, letting his subconscious do the work, until all is revealed with a simple phone call back to Paris.

This is not a totally satisfying mystery novel, yet it is short (just 184 pages) and interesting even when one hasn't a clue about what is going on.