By Donald E. Westlake
The boys within the tan-and-cream Chrysler got here with weapons blazing. while Ray Kelly awakened within the medical institution, it used to be a month later, he used to be lacking an eye fixed, and his father used to be lifeless.
Then issues began to get undesirable.
From the brain of the incomparable Donald E. Westlake comes a devastating tale of betrayal and revenge, an exploration of the bounds of kinfolk loyalty and the way a ways a guy will move whilst every thing he loves is taken from him.
First released 1962
* First U.S. e-book in additional than forty years. (First paperback ebook within the U.S. ever!)
* Lawrence Block known as 361 "My own favourite of [Westlake’s] hard-boiled interval and, to my brain, the 1st publication within which he stumbled on a voice that was once uniquely his." (From secret AND SUSPENSE WRITERS)
* writer used to be named a Grandmaster by way of the secret Writers of the United States and nominated for an Academy Award for the screenplay of "The Grifters"
* Charlie Stella, writer of Charlie Opera: "361 is a gem of hardboiled excellence through one of many actual masters."
Acclaim for the paintings of Donald E. Westlake...
"Westlake is usually original."
— Elmore Leonard
"A novel that grabs the reader through the throat and refuses to permit go."
— San Diego Union-Tribune
"Westlake is aware accurately how you can seize a reader, draw her or him into the tale, after which slowly tighten his grip till break out is impossible."
— Washington publish ebook international
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Additional resources for 361
I can’t even think straight. I’ve never been so upset in my life. ’’ She hung up and left him staring at the phone. Unless she was a better actress than he would have guessed, she sounded absolutely overcome. He was surprised that news of Edith Bodine’s death could have reached her so soon, but far more surprised that she could be taking it so hard. Was there more to all this than met the eye? Were Hobie’s wife and mistress actually close friends? Or were they—Jesus— more than just good friends?
Three weeks, say, at the conclusion of which a man would probably be eager to kill anybody, stranger or blood kin. Was Ol’ Sweat ’n’ Leather getting paid for his thousand miles? Was he in the trade? Keller turned the book over in his hands, read the paragraph on the back cover. It did not sound promising. Something about a drifter in the Arizona territory, a saddle tramp, looking to avenge an old Civil War grievance. Forgive and forget, Keller advised him. Keller, riding substantially more than a thousand miles, albeit on a plane instead of a horse, was similarly charged with killing a man as yet unmet.
Christ. Was she the client? Was the pickup downstairs a cute way for them to meet? Could she actually be that stupid, coming on in a public place to a man she was hiring to kill her husband? 36 L A W R E N C E B L O C K For that matter, how had she recognized him? Only Dot and the man in White Plains had known the name he was using. They’d have kept it to themselves. And she’d made her move before she knew his name. Had she been able to recognize him? I see by your outfit that you are a hit man?