Getaway Book

Published in 1933, this installment of the Saint's adventures takes place in about 24 hrs start to finish. The whole adventure starts with a mistake: thinking they are rescuing a poor little nebbish from three muggers, the Saint and his pal Monty step in, only to discover they have intervened on the side of the ungodly this time! The eponymous "getaway" is not only from the law but from just about everyone they meet, as they proceed to hare across a couple of countries in their attempt to save their skins and keep the boodle. Templar is of course too good to be true--even in those days one couldn't "step down" onto the top of a passing limosine and go unnoticed by the occupants, let alone ride there for miles at speed. But Templar knows all, sees all, does all--and apparently enjoys all. Patricia is still with him; though rather in the background for most of the book, she does pop up when needed and make a valuable contribution.

This is the purplest of purple prose. Apparently Charteris freely admitted to overwriting, over describing, and generally taking things too far. Here's just a sampling of his mixed metaphors and gigglingly good over-the-top narration:

He knew that his only way out lay along the precarious alleyways of peace with honour--with black italics for the peace, if anything. It was unfortunate, admittedly, but it was one of the immutable verities of the situation.
Was it, now. I never did figure out why "black italics" would be necessary.

Everything was a matter of split seconds in that discreet getaway, and no one knew better than Simon Templar that only an exhibition of agility that would make cats look silly was going to skin a ninth life out of the hornet's nest that had blown up under his feet.

Trying to follow that sentence could give you whiplash.

And then there's my personal favourite: The smile on the Saint's lips was as superficial as a reflection in burnished bronze.
And as distorted, apparently.

Once again, the close ties of 1930s upperclass Britain with Germany are evident in the fact that everyone speaks German fluently, and some important conversations are expressed in that language without benefit of translation. Others are supposedly translations-for-the-reader; one wonders how Templar's badinage flowed in a different language, but then he's a perfect Gary Stu--or in this case, Wolfgang Amadeus.

The last of Charteris' "evil political puppeteer" novels; apparently even he grew tired of the evil genius behind the scenes, manipulating world events. It never stopped Ian Fleming, though.