By Lawrence Block
Bernie Rhodenbarr has long gone authentic -- nearly -- because the new proprietor of a used bookshop in New York's Greenwich Village. after all, dusty outdated tomes do not continuously flip a revenue, with the intention to make ends meet, Bernie's compelled, sometimes, to bask in his past profession: housebreaking. along with which, he likes it. Now a collector is providing Bernie a chance to mix his dual passions via stealing a truly infrequent and intensely undesirable book-length poem from a wealthy man's library. The heist is going off and not using a hitch. The supply of the ill-gotten quantity, even if, is a unique tale. Drugged through the client's lady go-between, Bernie wakes up in her house to discover the booklet long gone, the woman lifeless, a smoking gun in his hand, and the police officers on the door. And by surprise he is received to extricate himself from a slightly sticky real-life homicide secret and discover a killer -- ahead of he is booked for homicide One.
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Additional info for Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling, The (Bernie Rhodenbarr Mysteries)
Why don’t you two come over and meet Doctor Masakazu sometime? ” I was about to say no, for no other reason than I couldn’t imagine where I’d find the time. But Eve, of course, had already said yes. ” Eve suggested before I could blurt out the fact that I had a meeting at work on Thursday (my other work) and I knew I had to be at the bank early. When I knew I had to be up early, I never al owed myself to stay out late the night before. “We’l bring dessert. ” We set a time, and Eve scratched Sarah’s address on the back of one of the business cards we kept in a stack on a table near the front door.
She was dressed to perfection in a dark suit and a white blouse, and though I was more the sales rack type myself, I knew expensive clothing when I saw it. Her blouse was silk, and I’d bet an entire carafe of coffee that the emerald-and-diamond ring on her right hand had not come from the costume jewelry counter. ” Eve made herself right at home, flopping down in the chair next to Sarah’s. I didn’t object. She was Bellywasher’s one and only hostess, sure, but it wasn’t exactly like we had lines outside the door.
Sure, Jim is good-looking. Sure, he’s decent and kind, and he has a great sense of humor. Yes, he’s made it clear that if I’m interested, he’s plenty interested, too. But . . I twitched aside the thought and told myself to get my mind off my disastrous romantic track record and back on the restaurant where it belonged. “We’re ready,” I told Jim. I guess I didn’t look all that convinced, because he laughed. “You’re not being made to march in front of a firing squad. Loosen up, woman! ” He drew me closer and kneaded my shoulders.