Marital infidelity, murder, and the threat of nuclear holocaust hangs over the heartland in the sixth installment of the popular Sam McCain mystery series. Certainly not dull is October 1962, not with Russian Premier Nikita Krushchev promising to launch Soviet nuclear weaponry from Cuba if the U.S. attempts to invade the island. For seven taut days, since the 22nd, the Kennedy White House has been facing down the Soviets with an ultimatum to dismantle their Cuban missile bases at once. Meanwhile, in Black River Falls, Iowa, private investigator Sam McCain has been dealing with a crisis of different sort. Candy Sykes is no dream client. Not only is she brassy, loud, and boorish, but she's also the daughter of McCain's longtime nemesis, the incompetent local police chief Cliffie Sykes. Nor does anyone, except Cliffie, doubt she could have killed her faithless husband. And taking no nyet for an answer, Cliffie is demanding that Sam prove him right, the town wrong, and Candy innocent. Or else.

When Donald E. Westlake is funny, he is very, very funny. And when Westlake is Richard Stark, he is very, very bad... Now the creator of the ultimate career criminal — a man known only as Parker — returns with a new experience in noir. This time, Parker gets caught red-handed. And for Parker, once is never enough.

In a drab, hulking warehouse in a hulking, drab city in the center of an empty state, Parker is caught moving pharmaceuticals into a waiting truck. Led into a joint called Stoneveldt — from which no one has ever escaped — Parker has to find a way out, before his whole violent past catches up with him. And getting out of Stoneveldt means taking on the only partners he can find, including one who is already planning his next job.

For Parker and his fellow jailbreakers, freedom is just another word for committing their next felony. They pull off the perfect jailbreak and then start the perfect heist. But things go south in a hurry — leaving three men dead and Parker and his fellow escape artists scratching, clawing, and running for their lives. Suddenly, the big, drab city in the big, empty Midwestern state has become a prison. A cast of cops, busybodies, snitches, and weak links have turned into jailers. And for Parker, the ultimate jailbreak is about to begin.

A taut, twisting, perfectly timed ballet of bad intentions, blind alleys, and bad luck, BREAKOUT is Richard Stark par excellence. Because when it comes to getting into places where he shouldn’t be, and out of places where he should be, Parker is the best bad man in town.

A car bomb explodes in a white-orange flash, blowing a pretty young homicide detective to bits. A thousand miles away in Washington, Benjamin Dill learns of his sister’s murder and returns to their hometown to find out who killed her and why.

Dill, a consultant to an obscure Senate investigating subcommittee, has another task to perform. He must obtain evidence from an old boyhood friend, Jake Spivey, about the illegal arms deals that have made Jake a multimillionaire, evidence that would send Jake’s former partner, the sinister Clyde Brattle, to jail for the rest of his life. Are Spivey and Brattle somehow connected to his sister’s death? Why was she leading a strange double life with her boss, Gene Colder, the dapper captain of the squad? Searching for answers to these questions, Dill uncovers an unsavory nest of petty thieves, hired guns, crooked cops and corrupt politicians — all with motives to murder his sister, and each other. He meets the smart, beautiful Anna Maude Singe, who falls in love with him. And in one brief, brutally hot weekend, they are swept up in a vortex of intrigue, betrayal and violence, risking their lives as the mystery reaches its surprising and spellbinding climax.

Savage, sexy, sardonic, sophisticated — Briarpatch is all these, and more.

Crackling with swift action and sharp dialogue, stinging in its satirical view of a small Midwestern city and its eccentric inhabitants, the novel is a dazzling display of Ross Thomas’s genius as a master storyteller.

Death knell in L.A.

Beneath the golden glitter, Tinsel Town spawns sleaze, sickies, psychos, and wiseguys. Ex-cop Fritz Brown, sometime P.I., full-time Beethoven buff, sees it all as he walks the shady side of the streets. Now he’s got a client named Freddy “Fat Dog” Baker, a caddy who flashes too much cash... and a gut feeling that this case could be his last. Arson, pay-offs, and porn are all part of the game. But so is Fat Dog’s foxy cello-playing sister. And soon Brown’s desire to make beautiful music with her threatens to turn his favorite song into a funeral march.

A BURNT-OUT COTTAGE

A FORTUNE BURIED IN THE ASHES

A BODY THAT COULD SOLVE A DECADES OLD CRIME

DC Jack Warr and his girlfriend Maggie have just moved to London to start a new life together. Though charming, Jack can’t seem to find his place in the world — until he’s drawn into an investigation that turns his life upside down.

In the aftermath of a fire at an isolated cottage, a badly charred body is discovered, along with the burnt remains of millions of stolen, untraceable bank notes.

Jack’s search leads him deep into a murky criminal underworld — a world he finds himself surprisingly good at navigating. But as the line of the law becomes blurred, how far will Jack go to find the answers — and what will it cost him?

A fine assembly of characters make their appearance in Peter Lovesey’s collection of crime short stories, some murderers, some victims. For instance: a butcher, a belly-dancer, an agony aunt, an amorous bookseller — and more besides.

Sleight of hand is also at work here, beware of assuming anything. There are some very cunning surprises.

Peter Lovesey, the creator of television’s Sergeant Cribb, and winner of the Crime Writers Association Gold Dagger Award for The False Inspector Dew, will mystify, entertain and divert you with his first collection of short stories. Some of the sixteen have been published here and abroad in magazines and anthologies, and some are brand new. One has been televised in Tales of the Unexpected. Irony runs through them, sometimes muted, sometimes overt. The collection is a feast for connoisseurs of the crime short story.