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"The Misplaced Battleship" by Harry Harrison is a science fiction novel written in the early 1960s. The story revolves around interstellar intrigue and crime, specifically the implications of a powerful battleship being secretly built in a peaceful sector of the galaxy. It addresses themes of deception, adventure, and the moral complexities faced by characters navigating both lawful and unlawful pursuits in a futuristic setting. The narrative follows the protagonist, Slippery Jim diGriz, a master thief turned agent for the Special Corps, as he uncovers a plot involving the covert construction of a Warlord-class battleship on the planet Cittanuvo. DiGriz, initially sent to investigate, finds himself embroiled in a deeper conspiracy when he discovers that a criminal mastermind named Pepe Nero, with the assistance of a cunning woman named Angelina, has orchestrated the construction and theft of the battleship for his own nefarious purposes. As diGriz races against time to apprehend Pepe

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_It might seem a little careless to lose track of something as big as a battleship ... but interstellar space is on a different scale of magnitude. But a misplaced battleship--in the wrong hands!--can be most dangerous._

Illustrated by Schoenherr

When it comes to picking locks and cracking safes I admit to no master. The door to Inskipp's private quarters had an old-fashioned tumbler drum that was easier to pick than my teeth. I must have gone through that door without breaking step. Quiet as I was though, Inskipp still heard me. The light came on and there he was sitting up in bed pointing a .75 caliber recoilless at my sternum.

"You should have more brains than that, diGriz," he snarled. "Creeping into my room at night! You could have been shot."

"No I couldn't," I told him, as he stowed the cannon back under his pillow. "A man with a curiosity bump as big as yours will always talk first and shoot later. And besides--none of this pussyfooting around in the dark would be necessary if your screen was open and I could have got a call through."

Inskipp yawned and poured himself a glass of water from the dispenser unit above the bed. "Just because I head the Special Corps, doesn't mean that I _am_ the Special Corps," he said moistly while he drained the glass. "I have to sleep sometime. My screen is open only for emergency calls, not for every agent who needs his hand held."

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