{"product_id":"inspector-maigretisbn-9780141393506","title":"Inspector Maigret","description":"\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e“A writer as comfortable with reality as with fiction, with passion as with reason.” —John Le Carré\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eIn this gripping novel set in an insular fishing community, Inspector Maigret must navigate an impenetrable subculture to solve a murder\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e“It was indeed a photograph, a picture of a woman. But the face was completely hidden, scribbled all over in red ink. Someone had tried to obliterate the head, someone very angry. The pen had bitten into the paper. There were so many criss-crossed lines that not a single square millimetre had been left visible. On the other hand, below the head, the torso had not been touched. A pair of large breasts. A light-coloured silk dress, very tight and very low cut.”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSailors don’t talk much to other men, especially not to policemen. But after Captain Fallut’s body is found floating near his trawler, they all mention the Evil Eye when they speak of the Ocean’s voyage.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century . . . Simenon was unequaled at making us look inside, though the ability was masked by his brilliance at absorbing us obsessively in his stories.” —\u003ci\u003eThe Guardian\u003c\/i\u003e‘One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century…Simenon was unequalled at making us look inside, though the ability was masked by his brilliance at absorbing us obsessively in his stories.’\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003eThe Guardian\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'I love reading Simenon. He makes me think of Chekhov.'\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003eWilliam Faulkner\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'The greatest of all, the most genuine novelist we have had in literature'\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003eAndré Gide\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e‘A supreme writer…unforgettable vividness’\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003eThe Independent\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e 'Superb... The most addictive of writers... A unique teller of tales'\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003eThe Observer\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e‘Compelling, remorseless, brilliant.’\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003eJohn Gray\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'A truly wonderful writer... marvellously readable - lucid, simple, absolutely in tune with the workd he creates'\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003eMuriel Spark\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'A novelist who entered his fictional world as it he were a part of it'\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003ePeter Ackroyd\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Extraordinary masterpieces of the twentieth century'\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e— \u003cb\u003eJohn Banville\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eGeorges Simenon \u003c\/b\u003e(1903–1989) was born in Liège, Belgium. Best known in Britain as the author of the Maigret books, his prolific output of more than four hundred novels and short stories have made him a household name in continental Europe.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eDavid Coward\u003c\/b\u003e is a translator from French, whose translations include works by authors such as Alexandre Dumas, Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, and the Marquis de Sade.\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eGeorges Simenon\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eTHE GRAND BANKS CAFÉ\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cb\u003eTranslated by David Coward\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cb\u003ePENGUIN BOOKS\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cp\u003ePublished by the Penguin Group \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (Australia), 707 Collins Street, Melbourne, Victoria 3008, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) \u003cbr\u003ePenguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, Block D, Rosebank Office Park, 181 Jan Smuts Avenue, Parktown North, Gauteng 2193, South Africa\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003ePenguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e penguin.com \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eFirst published in French as \u003ci\u003eAu Rendez-Vous des Terre-Neuvas\u003c\/i\u003e by Fayard 1931\u003cbr\u003eThis translation first published 2014\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eCopyright 1931 by Georges Simenon Limited\u003cbr\u003eTranslation copyright © David Coward, 2014\u003cbr\u003eGEORGES SIMENON ® Simenon.tm\u003cbr\u003eMAIGRET ® Georges Simenon Limited\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eCover photograph (detail) © Harry Gruyaert\/Magnum Photos\u003cbr\u003eFront cover design by Alceu Chiesorin Nunes\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eAll rights reserved\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe moral rights of the author and translator have been asserted\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eISBN: 978-0-698-15757-6\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e Title Page \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e Copyright \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e About the Author \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 1. The Glass Eater \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 2. The Tan-Coloured Shoes \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 3. The Headless Photograph \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 4. The Mark of Rage \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 5. Adèle and Friend \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 6. The Three Innocents \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 7. Like a Family \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 8. The Drunken Sailor \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 9. Two Men on Deck \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 10. What Happened on the Third Day \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e 11. The \u003ci\u003eOcéan\u003c\/i\u003e Sails \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e EXTRA: Chapter 1 from \u003ci\u003eA Man’s Head\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cb\u003e ABOUT THE AUTHOR \u003c\/b\u003e \u003cp\u003eGeorges Simenon was born on 12 February 1903 in Liège, Belgium, and died in 1989 in Lausanne, Switzerland, where he had lived for the latter part of his life. Between 1931 and 1972 he published seventy-five novels and twenty-eight short stories featuring Inspector Maigret.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSimenon always resisted identifying himself with his famous literary character, but acknowledged that they shared an important characteristic:\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy motto, to the extent that I have one, has been noted often enough, and I’ve always conformed to it. It’s the one I’ve given to old Maigret, who resembles me in certain points … ‘understand and judge not’.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003ePenguin is publishing the entire series of Maigret novels.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e PENGUIN CLASSICS \u003c\/p\u003e \u003cb\u003eTHE GRAND BANKS CAFÉ\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘I love reading Simenon. He makes me think of Chekhov’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— William Faulkner\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘A truly wonderful writer … marvellously readable – lucid, simple, absolutely in tune with the world he creates’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— Muriel Spark\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Few writers have ever conveyed with such a sure touch, the bleakness of human life’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— A. N. Wilson\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘One of the greatest writers of the twentieth century … Simenon was unequalled at making us look inside, though the ability was masked by his brilliance at absorbing us obsessively in his stories’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— \u003ci\u003eGuardian\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘A novelist who entered his fictional world as if he were part of it’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— Peter Ackroyd\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘The greatest of all, the most genuine novelist we have had in literature’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— André Gide\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Superb … The most addictive of writers … A unique teller of tales’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— \u003ci\u003eObserver\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘The mysteries of the human personality are revealed in all their disconcerting complexity’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— Anita Brookner\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘A writer who, more than any other crime novelist, combined a high literary reputation with popular appeal’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— P. D. James\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘A supreme writer … Unforgettable vividness’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— \u003ci\u003eIndependent\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Compelling, remorseless, brilliant’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— John Gray\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Extraordinary masterpieces of the twentieth century’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e— John Banville\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e1. The Glass Eater\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e… that he’s the finest young man around here there ever was, and that all this could well be the death of his mother. He’s all she’s got. I am absolutely sure that he’s innocent: everybody here is. But the sailors I’ve talked to reckon he’ll be found guilty because civilian courts never understand anything to do with the sea.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eDo everything you can, old friend, just as if you were doing it for me. I see from the papers that you’ve become something very important in the Police Judiciaire, and …\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eIt was a June morning. The windows of the flat on Boulevard Richard-Lenoir were wide open. Madame Maigret was finishing packing large wicker trunks, and Maigret, who was not wearing a collar, was reading aloud.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Who’s it from?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Jorissen. We were at school together. He’s a primary-school teacher now in Quimper. Listen, are you still set on passing our week’s holiday in Alsace?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eShe stared at him, not understanding. The question was so unexpected. For the past twenty years they’d always spent their holidays with family, and always in the same village in eastern France.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘What if we went to stay by the sea instead?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eHe read out parts of the letter again, in a half whisper:\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e… you are better placed than I am to get accurate information. Very briefly, Pierre Le Clinche, aged twenty, a former pupil of mine, sailed three months ago on the \u003ci\u003eOcéan\u003c\/i\u003e, a Fécamp trawler which was going fishing for cod off Newfoundland. The boat docked back in port yesterday. Hours later, the body of the captain was found floating in the harbour, and all the signs point to foul play. Pierre Le Clinche is the man who’s been arrested.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘We’ll be able to take it just as easy at Fécamp as anywhere else!’ said Maigret, holding out no great hopes.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eObjections were raised. In Alsace, Madame Maigret was with her family and helped with making jam and plum brandy. The thought of staying in a hotel by the seaside with a lot of other people from Paris filled her with dread.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘What would I do all day?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eIn the end, she packed her sewing and her crocheting.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Just don’t expect me to go swimming! I thought I’d better warn you in advance.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThey had arrived at the Hôtel de la Plage at five. Once there, Madame Maigret had set about rearranging the room to her liking. Then they’d had dinner.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eLater, Maigret, now alone, pushed open the frosted-glass door of a harbour-front café, the Grand Banks Café.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eIt was located opposite the berth where the trawler the \u003ci\u003eOcéan\u003c\/i\u003e was tied up, just by a line of railway trucks. Acetylene lamps hung from the rigging, and in their raw light a number of figures were busily unloading cod, which they passed from hand to hand and piled into the trucks after the fish had been weighed.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThere were ten of them at work, men and women, dirty, their clothes torn and stiff with salt. By the weighing scales stood a well-turned-out young man, with a boater over one ear and a notebook in his hand, in which he recorded the weighed catch.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eA rank, stomach-churning smell, which distance did nothing to lessen, seeped into the bar, where the heat made it even more oppressive.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eMaigret sat down in a free corner, on the bench seat. He was surrounded by noise and activity. There were men standing, men sitting, glasses on the marble-topped tables. All were sailors.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘What’ll it be?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘A beer.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe serving girl went off. The landlord came up to him:\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘I’ve got another room next door, you know. For tourists. This lot make such a din in here!’ He winked. ‘Well, after three months at sea, it’s understandable.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Are these the crew of the \u003ci\u003eOcéan\u003c\/i\u003e?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Most of them. The other boats aren’t back yet. You mustn’t pay any attention. Some of them have been drunk for three days. Are you staying put? … I bet you’re a painter, right? We get them in now and again. They do sketches. There, see? Over the counter? One of them drew me, head and shoulders.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eBut the inspector offered so little encouragement to his chatter that the landlord gave up and went away.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘A copper two-\u003ci\u003esou\u003c\/i\u003e bit! Who’s got a copper two-\u003ci\u003esou\u003c\/i\u003e bit?’ shouted a sailor no taller than a sixteen-year-old youth and as thin.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eHis head was old, his face was lopsided, and he was missing a few teeth. Drink made his eyes bright, and a three-day stubble had spread over his jaws.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eSomeone tossed him a coin. He bent it almost double with his fingers, then put it between his teeth and snapped it in two.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Who’s wants to have a go next?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eHe strutted around. He sensed that everyone was looking at him and was ready to do anything to remain the centre of attention.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eAs a puffy-faced mechanic produced a coin, he stepped in:\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Half a mo’. This is what you got to do as well.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eHe picked up an empty glass, took a large bite out of it and chewed the broken pieces with a show of relish worthy of a gourmet.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Ha ha!’ he smirked. ‘You’re all welcome to give it a try … Fill me up again, Léon!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eHe looked round the bar boastfully until his eyes came to rest on Maigret. His eyebrows came together in a deep frown.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eFor a moment he seemed nonplussed. Then he started to move forwards. He had to lean on a table to steady himself because he was so drunk.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘You here for me?’ he blustered.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Take it easy, Louis boy!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Still on about that business with the wallet? Listen, boys. You didn’t believe me just now when I told you about my run-ins with the Rue de Lappe boys. Well, here’s a top-notch cop who’s come out of his way to see yours truly … Will it be all right if I have another little drink?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eAll eyes were now on Maigret.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Sit yourself down here, Louis boy, and stop playing the fool!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eLouis guffawed:\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘You paying? No, that would be the day! … Is it all right with you, boys, if the chief inspector buys me a drink? … Make it brandy, Léon, a large one!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Were you on the \u003ci\u003eOcéan\u003c\/i\u003e?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe change in Louis was instant. His face darkened so much that it seemed as if he had suddenly sobered up. He shifted his position on the bench seat, backing off suspiciously.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘What if I was?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Nothing … Cheers … Been drunk long?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘We been celebrating for three days. Ever since we landed. I gave my pay to Léon. Nine hundred francs, give or take. Here until it runs out … How much have I got left, Léon, you old crook?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Well, not enough for you to go on buying rounds until tomorrow! About fifty francs. Isn’t it a stupid shame, inspector! Tomorrow he’ll be skint and he’ll have to sign as a stoker on the first boat that’ll have him. It’s the same story every time. Mark you, I don’t encourage them to drink! The very opposite!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Shut your mouth!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe others had lost their high spirits. They talked in whispers and kept looking round at the table where the inspector was sitting.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Are all these men from the \u003ci\u003eOcéan\u003c\/i\u003e?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘All save the big fellow in the cap, who’s a pilot, and the one with ginger hair. He’s a ship’s carpenter.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Tell me what happened.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘I got nothing to say.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Watch your step, Louis! Don’t forget the wallet business, which ended up with you doing your glass-eating number behind bars.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘All I’d get is three months, and anyway I could do with a rest. But if you want, why not just lock me up right now?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Were you working in the engine room?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Sure! As usual! I was second fireman.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Did you see much of the captain?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Maybe twice in all.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘And the wireless operator?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Dunno.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Léon! Same again.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eLouis gave a contemptuous laugh.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘I could be drunk as a lord and still I wouldn’t tell you anything I didn’t want to say. But since you’re here, you could offer to buy the boys a round. After the lousy trip like the one we just been on!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eA sailor, not yet twenty, approached shiftily and tugged Louis’ sleeve. They both started talking in Breton.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘What did he say?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘He said it’s time I went to bed.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘A friend of yours?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eLouis shrugged, and just as the young sailor was about to take his glass off him, he downed it in one defiant gulp.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe Breton had thick eyebrows and wavy hair.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Sit down with us,’ said Maigret.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eBut without replying the sailor moved to another table, where he sat staring unblinkingly at both of them.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eThe atmosphere was heavy and sour. The sounds of tourists playing dominoes came from the next room, which was lighter and cleaner.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Catch much cod?’ asked Maigret who pursued his line of thought with the single-mindedness of a mechanical drill.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘It was no good. When we landed, it was half rotten!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘How come?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Not enough salt! … Or too much! … It was off! There’ll not be a third of the crew who’ll go out on her again next week.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Is the \u003ci\u003eOcéan\u003c\/i\u003e going out again?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘By God, yes! Otherwise what’s the point of boats with engines? Sailboats go out the once, from February to October. But these trawlers can fit in two trips to the Grand Banks.’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘Are you going back on her?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eLouis spat on the floor and gave a weary shrug.\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘I’d just as well be banged up at Fresnes … You must be joking!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘And the captain?’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003e‘I got nothing to say!’\u003c\/p\u003e \u003cp\u003eHe had lit the stump of a cigar he’d found lying about. Suddenly he retched, made a rush for the door and could be seen throwing up on the kerb, where the Breton joined him.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Penguin Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303587107045,"sku":"NP9780141393506","price":15.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780141393506_6a241be3-61f0-4a3a-a0ec-d13036674bf5.jpg?v=1730754739","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/inspector-maigretisbn-9780141393506","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}