By Lawrence Block
Bernie Rhodenbarr has long past reputable -- virtually -- because the new proprietor of a used bookstall in New York's Greenwich Village. in fact, dusty outdated tomes do not continuously flip a revenue, so as to make ends meet, Bernie's compelled, every so often, to take pleasure in his past career: housebreaking. along with which, he likes it.
Now a collector is providing Bernie a chance to mix his dual passions by means of stealing a truly infrequent and intensely undesirable book-length poem from a wealthy man's library.
The heist is going off with no hitch. The supply of the ill-gotten quantity, in spite of the fact that, is a distinct tale. Drugged by way of the client's girl go-between, Bernie wakes up in her condo to discover the e-book long past, the girl lifeless, a smoking gun in his hand, and the police officers on the door. And all at once he is obtained 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 The Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling (Bernie Rhodenbarr Mysteries)
The radio was still playing. I wanted to turn it off but left it alone. The cops had left off knocking on the door and were slamming into it every few seconds. Any moment now the door would give and they’d come stumbling into the room. I decided I didn’t want to be there when that happened. I was still holding the damned gun. I dropped it, and then I picked it up and wiped my prints off it, and then I dropped it again and made my way past the radio and through a short hallway with a bathroom and closet on one side and a pullman kitchen on the other.
To the drink, that is; I seated myself in a tub chair upholstered in glove-soft green Naugahyde. The living room was small but comfortable, with a Victorian rosewood love seat and a floral-slip-covered easy chair in addition to the tub chair. The bold abstract oil over the love seat somehow complemented the furnishings. It was a nice room, and I said as much. “Thank you. ” There was classical music playing on the radio, a woodwind ensemble that sounded like Vivaldi. Madeleine Porlock crossed the room, adjusted the volume.
We’re friends, aren’t we? I know it means I’m harboring a fugitive, and I don’t particularly give a shit. ” “You bet your ass. ” “What’s the capital of South Dakota? No, seriously, folks. Why’d you wait until the Arkwrights came home? Why not just duck in and out quick like a bunny? ” I nodded. “It was Whelkin’s idea. He wanted the book to be stolen without Arkwright even realizing it was gone. If I didn’t take anything else and didn’t disturb the house, and if the book was still there when Jesse Arkwright played his bedtime game of pocket billiards, it would be at least a day before he missed it.