JOHN RHODE
Invisible Weapons
an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Collins Crime Club 1938
Copyright © Estate of John Rhode 1938
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1938, 2018
John Rhode asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Source ISBN: 9780008268817
Ebook Edition © February 2018 ISBN: 9780008268824
Version: 2017-01-02
Table of Contents
Part One: The Adderminster Affair
Part Two: Death Visits Cheveley Street
It was very hot in the charge-room of Adderminster Police Station. Sergeant Cload mopped his head with one hand while he held the telephone receiver with the other.
‘Yes, sir, yes, sir,’ he repeated at intervals. ‘Certainly, sir, I will take the necessary steps at once. I’m very sorry that you have been subjected to this annoyance. Good-morning, sir.’
He put the instrument aside and growled. ‘Alfie Prince again!’ he exclaimed. ‘I don’t know what we’re going to do about that chap, Linton.’
‘What’s he been up to now?’ asked Constable Linton, the only other occupant of the room.
‘Oh, the same old game. Going round to people’s houses asking for fags and cursing if he doesn’t get them. This time it’s Colonel Exbury. It seems that he went round there and that the colonel had the devil of a job to get rid of him. He’s not a bit pleased and wants to know what we mean to do about it.’
‘I can’t make Alfie out,’ said Linton, scratching his head. ‘He’ll do a day’s job with anybody in the town when he feels like it. And then all of a sudden he’ll take it into his head to go round annoying folk. And it isn’t that he gets drunk, for I’ve never heard of anybody who’s seen him the worse for liquor.’
‘He’s not right, that’s what it is,’ replied the sergeant confidently. ‘I don’t mean that he’s out and out mad, but he comes over all batty now and then. I wonder, now!’
Again the sergeant mopped his face with that enormous pocket handkerchief. ‘Damn this heat!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s enough to drive anyone batty. What I was wondering is whether the folk at the asylum could do Alfie any good if he went in there for a bit.’
Linton