“O.K. Now he’s going to get his coat…” As predicted by the smiling librarian, the old man walks across the room towards the coat rack, slips into a raincoat and slowly reaches the exit, an old briefcase under his elbow. Since he has retired, Marcel Chausiaux comes to the library every day. Before, he used to give talks in nursing homes about Paris. More specifically, about anything dreadful that took place in the city. For instance, he spoke on the guillotine and the Deibler family, executioners, or “headmen,” over three generations, “1,500 heads for the grandfather, the father and the son.” (Coincidentally, he lives on the street where the deadly device operated from 1850 to 1900). Now, vaguely hoping that a bureaucrat somewhere will forget his age and grant him permission to give one more lecture, he researches the capital’s “red houses,” meaning, he explains, “houses where crimes were committed.”

To accomplish such a task—reading about the murders, finding the victims’ addresses, taking pictures of the houses—Mr. Chausiaux has come to the right place. Hidden behind a firehouse in the Latin quarter, the Bibliothèque des littératures policières (Bilipo) or Library for crime literature, houses about 70,000 novels, 7,000 documents, 3,500 reference books, 3,000 press reviews, 2,000 comics, 50 subscriptions, posters… all related to suspense, crime, murder or detection.

Arriving at the modern, clean, well-lit building is almost disappointing. No blood on the wall. Not even a black crow hanging around.

The public institution is unique in the world. The idea for such a place sprouted in the 1970s, when detective novels (roman policiers), albeit already popular, were still not considered “Literature” and were neglected by French libraries. Library aficionados decided to reference all works of the genre and created an association, which in the early 1980s, obtained the right to stock and preserve all mystery-related publications from the National Library and the City of Paris. Since 1983, every mystery novel published in France has been automatically added to the collection. In 1985, the Bilipo opened its door to the public and ten years later, already weighted down by of its accumulated documents, the collection moved to its present location, where exhibitions and conferences also take place.

Arriving at the modern, clean, well-lit building is almost disappointing. No blood on the wall. Not even a black crow hanging around. Readers look strikingly normal. But like in any investigation, the truth lies in the details and below the surface. In the silent reading room titles emerge like cries: Dossiers criminels, Peindre au couteau (Painting with a knife), Crimes et Police, Blood N’Thunder, Mystère Magazine…

From romans de gare, books disdainfully bought in train stations, detective stories have slowly made it to bedside tables.

Since it is not a lending library, the Bilipo welcomes mostly researchers. “We have a bit of everything,” explains Dominique Floirat, the librarian on duty. “The shock troops are mainly literature students who study hardboiled crime fiction (roman noir) and detective novels. Then we have other rather surprising categories, like architecture students who research neighborhoods and crime scenes; we have authors, of course, and filmmakers who look for books on the police, forensic medicine, or the prison system; we have cops, like the one who worked on serial killers, and private detectives.” With visible delight she recalls the student who is working on American slang, and the one who is writing a thesis on gentlemen housebreakers. For regular polar lovers who come on weekends or after work to read, Ms. Floirat keeps their novels on the side until they finish them.

Although the core of the catalogue is in French, the foreign-language section has expanded massively to about 10,000 documents. The library itself buys all foreign reference books about famous authors and characters. Fiction, however, comes mostly through private donations. Several French publishing houses contribute the foreign books they consider for translation. American libraries regularly send over the books they don’t want to keep, and many authors bring their own works in whatever languages they were translated. The Régis Messac donation for instance, comprises the author’s thesis on the detective novel and the influence of scientific thinking (1929) and about 500 American pulp magazines from the 1930s: Detective Fiction Weekly, Flynn’s Weekly, Sexton Blake…

She recalls the student who is writing a thesis on gentlemen housebreakers.

Throughout its twenty years of existence, the Bilipo has accompanied a taste revolution among French readers. From romans de gare, books disdainfully bought in train stations, detective stories have slowly made it to bedside tables. Today, one book bought out of five is a mystery or one of its avatars—detective story, whodunit, espionage novel, historical thrillers, romans noirs. Most publishing houses have started their own crime collections and authors—whether from the genre’s traditional countries (i.e. France, the United States and England) or from emergent ones (Latin America, Italy and Northern Europe)—have become international stars. As a result, in 2004, 1,228 mysteries were published, compared to 700 in 1995.

“Readers are turning to mysteries because the range is huge and gets better media coverage,” explains Catherine Chauchard, the head of Bilipo. “The other explanation, which is the one given by the roman noir milieu, is that “literature” is not attractive enough and has forgotten the art of narration; it’s too self-centered and introspective.”

Truth be told, what is a better narrative trick than goose bumps? For Mr. Chausiaux, real, dark mysteries have taken over his life: “My wife, she is scandalized. But even when I watch a TV series, I always look for something macabre,” he states matter-of-factly before leaving the library for the day.

Bibliothèque des littératures policières (Bilipo), 48-50 rue du Cardinal Lemoine, 75005 Paris, Metro Cardianl Lemoine or Jussieu. 01 42 34 93 00. Open Tuesday-Friday 2pm - 6pm, Saturday 10am – 5pm. Free.