By Leslie Charteris
Three extra buccaneering adventures: while Rayt Marius bequeaths a e-book to Simon, it lands him in quite a lot of hassle, however it might generate handsome profit if he can continue to exist to inform the story. Then Simon battles the police, a reclusive millionaire, and a wild beast, and, within the ultimate experience, he will get relatively frustrated to find somebody is stealing his identification and committing crimes in his name…
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Additional info for The Saint in London (The Saint Series)
Teal has promised to try,” stated the Saint piously. THE paintings OF ALIBI 1 Chief Inspector Claud Eustace Teal spread out the paper wrapping from a leaf of chewing-gum with slow-moving pudgy arms, and the sleepy china-blue eyes in his purple overweight face blinked around the desk with the tasteless expressionlessness of a doll. “Of direction i do know your element of view,” he acknowledged flatly. “I’m now not a idiot. i do know that you’ve by no means performed whatever which i may whinge approximately if I have been only a spectator. i do know that each one the lads you’ve robbed and…” the somnolent eyes steadied themselves intentionally for a second, “and killed,” he stated, “they’ve all deserved it—in a manner. yet I additionally comprehend that, technically, you’re the main risky and protracted felony open air of criminal. I’m a police officer, and my task is technicalities. ” “Such as pulling in a few wretched innkeeper for promoting a tumbler of beer on the improper time, whereas the fellow who floats a million-pound swindle will get away on some degree of law,” Simon Templar advised lightly, and the detective nodded. “That’s my job,” he acknowledged, “and you recognize it. ” The Saint smiled. “I understand it, Claud,” he murmured. “But it’s additionally the cause of my very own occupation of crime. ” “That, and the money you're making out of it,” acknowledged the detective, with a tinge of gloomy cynicism in his voice. “And, as you are saying, the boodle,” Simon agreed shamelessly. Mr Teal sighed. In that stolid, methodical, sincere, plodding, unimaginative, and uninspired mechanism which used to be his brain, there lingered the reminiscence of many defeats—of the numerous occasions whilst he had long gone up opposed to that blithe and bantering buccaneer, and his long-suffering tail have been mercilessly pulled, stretched, twisted, strung with a pendant of tin-cans and fireworks, and eventually nailed firmly down among his legs, and it used to be now not a delightful mirrored image. additionally in his attention used to be the truth that the cost of his dinner had surely been paid out of the boodle of a few different buccaneering foray, and the extra traumatic incontrovertible fact that he had loved his dinner immensely from the 1st second to the final. It used to be very difficult for him to reconcile these 3 conflicting emanations from his mind, and his heavy-lidded eyes masked themselves even deeper below their perpetual affectation of weariness as he rolled the lingerie of his spearmint ration right into a small purple ball and flicked it around the eating place tablecloth. He may also have been phraseology a few compatible answer which must have comprehended the entire opalescent aspects of his paradox in a single masterly sentence, yet at that second a waiter got here to the desk. The chronicler, a conscientious and decent citizen whose income-tax funds are by no means greater than years in arrears, hesitates over these final ten phrases. He bounces, like an inexpert matador at the antlers of an Andalusian bull, upon the horns of a difficulty. All his inventive soul, all that luminescent literary genius which has gained him the applause and reverence of the studying international, rises in shuddering protest opposed to that scant dismissal.