A Case of Matricide by Graeme Macrae Burnet review: 'a delightfully slow novel'

One can only hope that Burnet, who in the Afterword compares Saint-Louis to his own home town, Kilmarnock, will happen upon at least one unpublished novel by the unhappy but delightful Brunet. Saint-Louis, with its echo of Simenon novels set in the north of France or on the Dutch or Belgian border, surely invites more books, as does its police chief, the shy, lugubrious Georges Gorski. Simenon had the good sense never to kill off Maigret, and it would be sad (even, in the context, criminal) if Burnet were to get rid of Gorski. The last pages give me hope that he won't.

Gorski has never been sure of himself - unlike Maigret. His surprising marriage to the Mayor's daughter collapsed, though he is grateful to his daughter who comes to visit her grandmother and seems to be fond of him. His work isn't onerous, for there is little but petty crime in Saint-Louis, and he spends several hours a day in bars.

He is occupied in trying to find out something about a mysterious man who has been reported by the proprietor of the dingy hotel where he is lodging, but the man seems amused and rather forces himself on Gorski's attention. Then there is an old lady who tells him her son Raymond killed her little dog and intends to kill her. Raymond, it turns out, was briefly a celebrated novelist, though the people of Saint-Louis were not pleased by his novel. He says he is writing nothing now but Gorski comes on a typescript with a rather ominous title.

Then there is a local businessman, a friend of the Mayor, who died of what the doctor says is a heart-attack. Gorski has his doubts and wonders why the Mayor should be on the scene as quickly as the ambulance. Still, in a town like Saint-Louis questioning can be awkward, even for the Police.

This is a slow novel, delightfully and rightly slow; Saint-Louis is not the kind of place where you rush about and in any case Gorski is a shy man who doesn't much like conversation. Even in the bars he drops into several times a day he doesn't seek out the company of others.

A Case of Matricide is a work of fine artistry; craftsmanship too, not quite the same thing. The atmosphere of the unremarkable and gloomy town is beautifully evoked: the rain, the shuttered windows, the gloomy bar, the smell of beer, pastis, brandy and cigarettes inviting nostalgia for a France that is now all but lost.

Gorski is an agreeably gloomy companion, too. You don’t, I’m sure, have to love France - and Simenon - to love this book, but it helps.

If the ingenious Graeme Macrae Burnet can't happen upon another novel from his near namesake, then perhaps a collection of short stories? After all, why should such a master of artifice shut up such a fine shop?

A Case of Matricide, by Graeme Macrae Burnet, Contraband, £14.99