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“I’m a robber,” John Dortmunder says, “not a grave robber.” Yet he soon finds himself in a Long Island cemetery, in the very dead of night, with dirt up to his knees.
His old friend Andy Kelp is to blame—Andy Kelp and the Internet. For it was while ambling on the Net that Kelp met up with master manipulator Fitzroy Guilderpost and his nefarious companions, the flunked teacher Irwin Gabel and the Las Vegas showgirl Little Feather Redcorn.
What these three have in mind is the amazing takeover of an upstate New York casino, and what they also envision is that Dortmunder and Kelp will not share in the ill-gotten gains, even though ill-gotten gains are Dortmunder’s and Kelp’s only source of income.
Shovel in hand, Dortmunder wonders whose grave this is. And if he isn’t very careful, and very alert, it could be his.
Burke Devore is a paper company manager, a man who can tell you everything you ever wanted to know about bleaching processes and the edible wood pulp they put in ice cream. For twenty-five years Burke has provided for his family and played by the rules. Until now. Now Devore is slipping away: from his wife, his family, and from all norms of civilized behavior. Burke Devore wants his life back. And he will do anything to get it.
Donald E. Westlake has written a tale of dark, mesmerizing power about one quiet, ordinary victim of corporate downsizing—who reacts in a most extraordinary way. From his attempts to land a new job, to the growing rift between him and his loved ones, Devore knows that he is running out of time. Believing that there is just one way to earn the only job he has a chance of getting, he sets off on a path from which there can be no turning back—no matter how bizarre and violent, no matter who gets in the way; no matter how evil Burke Devore becomes. Burke Devore is gunning for his competition, and it’s getting easier every time…
His partners had crossed him; his wife had emptied a .38 at his belly, and they’d left him in a burning house. Parker was tougher than they’d thought, but some business in the pen kept him busy for a while. Now he was out, and there was a matter of $45,000—his $45,000 and a matter of revenge that needed his immediate attention. Parker would have both, even if it meant going up against every man in the mob.