I was one of many Golden Age fans who was quite excited when Orion’s now-defunct Murder Room acquired the rights to the novels of Henry Wade. And I was one of many Golden Age fans who signally failed to buy any of those titles and read and review them, which in part resulted in the aforementioned defunctness. But when titles began to vanish from availability, I snapped a couple up, including Constable, Guard Thyself! (1934) on the understanding that it presented an example of my favourite subgenre, the impossible crime. So, now that you can’t buy it for yourself, I’m here to say that, yeah, it’s fine, and that Wade, like J.J. Connington, presents enough of interest in his procedural approach to warrant further reading.