Signé Picpus
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A man comes to the *Police Judiciare* claiming that he has seen a note left on a cafe table with a warning; it states a fortuneteller will be murdered that day at five o'clock. A young woman who makes her living as a fake clairvoyant turns up murdered, but things are never what they seem in Simenon novels.
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Lost me a bit at the end but otherwise this is a pretty perfect investigative crime story, pared down to the bare essentials. As always it's such a pleasure to stomp around Paris in the rain with Maigret while he eats, smokes his pipe, and drinks so much beer. It's obvious Simenon knew these neighborhoods backwards and forwards, and the setting as always is so welcoming and enjoyable to read about.
