Qaz̤īyah-yi San Fīyākir: Persian 1402

A timid scratching at the door; the sound of an object placed on the floor; a furtive voice: “It’s half-past five!” The first bell of mass has just sounded…” Maigret made the bed base creak as he raised himself on his elbows and while he looked in astonishment at the skylight pierced in the sloping roof, the voice continued: “Are you taking communion?” » Now, Commissioner Maigret was standing, barefoot on the cold floor. He walked towards the door which closed with a string wrapped around two nails. There were fleeing footsteps, and when he was in the corridor, he had just time to see the silhouette of a woman in a camisole and a white petticoat. So he picked up the pitcher of hot water that Marie Tatin had brought him, closed his door, and looked for a piece of mirror in front of which to shave.