Summertime, All the Cats are Bored by Philippe Georget

Summertime, All the Cats are Bored

Philippe Georget

Sit down with a cool drink and read your way to Roussillon in the heat of summer. A psychotic loner and a happily married cop play a deadly cat-and-mouse game. Can you take anything at face value?


Suddenly a dark form leaped out of a doorway and slammed her against a car. A hand covered her mouth to prevent her from crying out. She felt the blade of a knife on her neck. She didn't dare swallow. The man attacking her was wearing a hood. He must be dying of the heat, she said to herself, astonished to have such thoughts at a time like this.
The man didn't move. The moment went on. Anneke was pinned between the car and her attacker. She could feel his slow breathing, both muted and amplified by his woolen hood. He still hadn't tried anything. Her fear gave way to puzzlement. Then to a certain impatience. The moment was going on endlessly. She didn't understand. If he wants to kill me, let him do it, if he wants to rape me, let him get on with it, but for God's sake let's get this over with.

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