The title of this knockout of a book is misleading. Ninetyish, retired Memphis homicide cop Buck Schatz makes coot-dom look like a riot. Buck is an abrasive old party with not an ounce of codger cuteness. He has trouble remembering; his skin has grown papery; he can't push his lawn mower anymore. But his cop's watchfulness is intact. He keeps his .375 Magnum close by. He's a death-camp survivorhis real name is Baruchand right off, he learns that the sadistic guard who brutalized him is likely still alive and the possessor of much stolen Nazi gold. To honor the Nazi's victims and maybe grab the gold, Buck and his chatterbox grandson go on a quest. But who are these people who suddenly come out of the woodworka loan shark, a scholar, a pretty Israeli soldier? And why does everyone start dying? In prose as straightforward and tough as old Buck, the plot reveals its secrets with perfect timing. It's a shock when the killer's identity is revealed. But, then, we think eventually, who else could it be?