Alias the Saint (The Saint Series)
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In these three classic tales, the Saint takes an office job with a twist, tackles the ultimate locked-room mystery, and stumbles across a remote Welsh inn where a series of strange things are happening.
night; but unfortunately for that plan, when he was half undressed, he was smitten with an idea. With the Saint, to conceive an idea and to put it into execution were things so closely consecutive as to be almost simultaneous. He sighed, dressed again, and went out. The next morning, however, he showed no trace of tiredness as he ran up the stairs to the office. He was always the first to arrive, as only Vanney and himself and one other man held keys, and the other two were invariably late. He
followed was so unbroken that Simon could hear his own breathing. Stenning would never speak again, and Connell was out for a long time. Slowly the Saint returned Stenning’s automatic to his hip pocket. It was no use now. One glance at the massive lock on the barred gate, which went from the floor to the top of the tunnel arch, told him that any attempt to shoot away the fastening would be wasted. Besides, with the gas continuing to escape, even the flash of a pistol would be enough to blow them
already have observed that this book was first published in 1931, which is a longish time ago by ordinary standards. It is, in fact, one of the very earliest Saint books, and the first story in it was actually published serially even before any of the stories in the first collection of novelettes, Enter the Saint. At that time I had no idea that I would still be writing Saint stories more than 30 years later, or that an entire new generation would be growing up to discover them, who would then
Looking out of the window, he could see nothing but blackness. Nowhere on the sea was visible anything like a ship’s lights. But then they’d had a long start while he was sapping under that cellar door. And now he knew exactly what the Professor’s scheme was, and the magnitude of it took his breath away. He wasted only a few minutes in coming to a decision; and then, with Duncarry to help him, he went round to the garage and examined the dilapidated Hildebrand. It had not been touched—but, of
nothing. “I have them all over my own home,” he explained. “It’s the best idea of its kind in the world. It’s worked by a ray that shines across the corridor on to a selenium cell. It’s invisible, but if you get in its path the buzzer gives tongue. It’s impossible to put it out of action until it’s too late, because only Sebastian Tombs”—the Saint shuddered involuntarily—“and the electrician who fitted it know exactly where it is.” He was amused at her bewilderment. “Don’t you think it’s