Agaton Sax and the Colossus of Rhodes

By Nils-Olof Franzén

There are not many cases, even in the files of Agaton Sax, that involve ancient art, devious dentistry, false Frenchmen and a temporary tooth. The story of the Colossus of Rhodes, however, is one of them.
Left giddy by a hefty dose of anaesthetic after a visit to the dentist, Agaton's good friend Lispington is powerless to fight back against the criminals capturing him. With many miles separating the two, Sweden's finest detective can do nothing but stand by and listen in helplessly.
But when Agaton Sax pursues the case and seeks out the nefarious criminals that have spirited his friend away, he finds that there is more to the case than a simple grudge against Scotland Yard…
The Agaton Sax series of books were first published in Sweden, later being translated into English and printed with illustrations by much-loved artist Quentin Blake (perhaps best known for his work on the books of Roald Dahl). The English translations became immensely popular, achieving the status of the most re-issued mystery & detective series in the history of Nordic children's literature.
Now, after many years out of print, Oak Tree Books is proud to publish the entire Agaton Sax series, newly translated and illustrated for the next generation. This new collection includes the eleventh book which has never before been released in English.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Oak Tree Books
• Release date: Mar 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781789827477

Book preview

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Crime on the Line

The history of crime is a long one, for as long as there have been things to steal, ransom or hit squarely on the head with a mallet, the worst people have done so. They might have spent their time more wisely – say, rescuing puppies from burning buildings or helping the elderly to cross burning streets... but there you are. That’s bad folk for you.

Thankfully, most people are not like that. They would never let a puppy get so much as singed and have been known to lug their grandmothers back and forth across the road until it’s time to go in for dinner.

And then there are truly special people such as Agaton Sax, who have dedicated their entire lives to stopping crimes in its tracks, while also maintaining a higher than usual standard of journalism via the world’s smallest newspaper (but also the best) – the Byköping Post.

This is not to say that great detectives are flawless or without their foibles.[1]

On this occasion, it is in fact my thankless task to report to you the full story of a crime that took place directly under the nose of Sweden’s finest sleuth. Or rather... under his ear.

It was the beginning of a case that would tax the renowned brain of Agaton Sax to its very limits.

Not that the beautiful May morning on which this case opened seemed in any way out of the ordinary. Extraordinary moments seldom do. Very few of us wake up and think, Today I will be captured by werewolves, or discover that I am a member of a secret society of magical acrobats. These things tend to leap out at you, the surprise being part of the whole experience.

So it was with Agaton Sax on that fateful morning.

At 6:30, bright and early, he entered the editorial office of the Byköping Post – the smallest and best newspaper previously mentioned – and sat at his desk. The office was on the first floor of his home, so he did not have particularly far to travel.

Agaton’s short jaunt had given his morning coffee little time to cool; he gave a small yelp as the beverage scalded his tongue.

I’ll have to be more careful, he thought. There was a busy day ahead, and he needed to keep his wits – and preferably his tongue – about him. Having spent the last two weeks tracking down a notorious gang of walrus rustlers, he was behind on his work for the newspaper and his readers would be growing impatient.

And goodness knows that there was no guarantee another crime would not come over the wire, one that would need his immediate attention.

He picked up a sheet of paper and rolled it into the antique typewriter in front of him. It had been a gift from a satisfied client back in the early days of his detecting career and over the years it had come to feel like an old friend. Well... that is if one was in the habit of using their old friends to compose angry articles about the state of the town bins, or advertise fund-raising drives for the public library.

By 7:30, he had tidied away these vital pieces of local interest, and had moved on to the investigative portion of his morning. First, he telephoned the manager of the local dairy, seeking confirmation as to the rumoured theft of several of their best milk cows. Having done so, he sat thinking silently in his chair for half an hour, before returning to his typewriter and penning an editorial explaining who had committed the thefts and where the missing cows could be located.

By 8:30, he had organised the paper’s classified section, set its crossword, and decided on the headline ’Til the Cows Come Home for the issue’s front page.

It was time for a break.

Agaton Sax stood up from his chair and exited into a small room that connected with the office. Inside, he consulted his computer – Clever Dick – on the finer points of an extremely dangerous gang whom he had been tracking for the last three months.

The computer blipped, beeped and clacked information onto its screen. Agaton Sax pursed his lips as he considered it, then nodded firmly and, returning to his desk, sent the following telegram to the head of Interpol:

I HAVE SOLVED THE MYSTERY STOP

ARREST ALL EXCEPT CHARLIE SQUEALER STOP

IRONICALLY HE WILL TELL YOU NOTHING STOP

AGATON SAX

At 9:00 precisely, the telephone rang.

‘This is Agaton Sax.’

‘Hallo!’ said a voice, in English. ‘Is that you, Agaton?’

‘That is what I said. Is that you, Lispington?’

‘Why, yes. How did you know?’

‘You sounded like you. Well, mostly like you. There is something wrong, isn’t there?’

‘Ah, nothing gets past you, Agaton. I’m a little giddy.’

‘Giddy?’

‘From the dentist.’

‘Did you have a tooth pulled?’

‘Not me, personally. But the dentist fellow did. I thought it was better to leave it to the professionals.’

‘Sensible.’

‘Besides, he didn’t pull it as such. More sawed it away and replaced it with another one.’

‘Aaaaah,’ sighed Agaton, with genuine compassion.

‘Exactly what I said.’

A brief ripple of concern passed over Agaton Sax’s face, and he pulled the receiver closer to his mouth.

‘Lispington, did you say he put in a tooth?’

‘Well, a temporary one. I’m to try it out for a week and if I get on with it, he’ll fit it permanently.’

‘I see.’

‘What is it, Agaton?’

‘Lispington?’

‘I can hear your brain whirring from here.’

‘Is it usual to put in a temporary tooth first?’

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Agaton Sax had never had a tooth replaced, having been blessed with a remarkably robust set of gnashers.

‘Well, it’s partly to ensure it fits correctly, and partly because the permanent tooth must be fitted in Rhodes.’

‘Ah, of course,’ Agaton answered automatically. Then the sentence unfolded fully in his brain. ‘Wait a moment… Rhodes?’

‘Yes, Rhodes.’

‘The island in the Mediterranean?’

‘Obviously.’

‘You have to go all the way to Rhodes to have this tooth permanently fitted?’

‘Well, that’s where the dentist is.’

‘So, I assumed. And there is no dentist closer to home that can do the job?’

This conversation was beginning to make Agaton Sax feel as though he’d been to the dentist himself, and had inhaled more of the anaesthetic gas than was good for him.

‘Of course there are.’

‘Then…?’

‘Ah,’ said Lispington, and Agaton could hear the tell-tale creak of the Inspector leaning back in his revolving office chair. ‘I bet you would like to know why I’m going to Rhodes.’

‘Not for the dentist?’

‘No. I have to go to the dentist in Rhodes next week, because I shall be there anyway.’

Lispington left a long, dramatic pause. Long enough for Agaton Sax’s planet-sized brain to piece together the seemingly disparate clues in their conversation.

‘The Colossus of Rhodes,’ said the detective, finally.

‘Yes! I am on its trail.’

Agaton Sax stroked his elegant moustache. The Colossus of Rhodes was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World – a huge bronze statue of the sun god Helios that had once stood astride the harbour of Rhodes.

It had been seemingly destroyed by an earthquake in 224 B.C.,[2] though no trace of it had ever been found.

Treasure hunters had long sought to track its location – or at least solve the mystery of its disappearance – but it had continued to mystify them all.

Agaton suspected, however, that the statue was not the Colossus of Rhodes his friend was talking about. Lispington had seldom displayed any interest in disappearing bronze statues. He preferred card games and avoiding members of the government.

‘What is this all about, Lispington?’

Lispington sounded desperately pleased with himself.