
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?