L. Eims:Be the Leader You Were Meant to Be (An Input book)
- edizione con copertina flessibile 2018, ISBN: 9780882077239
Anchor. Very Good. 5.3 x 0.7 x 8 inches. Paperback. 2018. 336 pages. <br>#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER ? A delightfully ligh thearted caper . . . [a] fast-moving, entertaining tale.-… Altro …
Anchor. Very Good. 5.3 x 0.7 x 8 inches. Paperback. 2018. 336 pages. <br>#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER ? A delightfully ligh thearted caper . . . [a] fast-moving, entertaining tale.--Pittsbu rgh Post-Gazette A gang of thieves stage a daring heist from a v ault deep below Princeton University's Firestone Library. Their l oot is priceless, impossible to resist. Bruce Cable owns a popul ar bookstore in the sleepy resort town of Santa Rosa on Camino Is land in Florida. He makes his real money, though, as a prominent dealer in rare books. Very few people know that he occasionally d abbles in unsavory ventures. Mercer Mann is a young novelist wit h a severe case of writer's block who has recently been laid off from her teaching position. She is approached by an elegant, myst erious woman working for an even more mysterious company. A gener ous monetary offer convinces Mercer to go undercover and infiltra te Cable's circle of literary friends, to get close to the ringle ader, to discover his secrets. But soon Mercer learns far too mu ch, and there's trouble in paradise--as only John Grisham can del iver it. Editorial Reviews Review A delightfully lighthearted c aper . . . [a] fast-moving, entertaining tale.--Pittsburgh Post-G azette A happy lark [that] provides the pleasure of a leisurely jaunt periodically jolted into high gear, just for the fun and sp eed of it.--The New York Times Book Review Sheer catnip . . . [G risham] reveals an amiable, sardonic edge here that makes Camino Island a most agreeable summer destination.--USA Today Fans will thrill with the classic chase and satisfying ending; and book lo vers will wallow in ecstasy.--The Florida Times-Union About the Author John Grisham is the author of forty-seven consecutive #1 b estsellers, which have been translated into nearly fifty language s. His recent books include The Judge's List, Sooley, and his thi rd Jake Brigance novel, A Time for Mercy, which is being develope d by HBO as a limited series. Grisham is a two-time winner of t he Harper Lee Prize for Legal Fiction and was honored with the Li brary of Congress Creative Achievement Award for Fiction. When h e's not writing, Grisham serves on the board of directors of the Innocence Project and of Centurion Ministries, two national organ izations dedicated to exonerating those who have been wrongfully convicted. Much of his fiction explores deep-seated problems in o ur criminal justice system. John lives on a farm in central Virg inia. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. C HAPTER ONE The Heist 1. The imposter borrowed the name of Nevi lle Manchin, an actual professor of American literature at Portla nd State and soon-to-be doctoral student at Stanford. In his lett er, on perfectly forged college stationery, Professor Manchin cla imed to be a budding scholar of F. Scott Fitzgerald and was keen to see the great writer's manuscripts and papers during a forthco ming trip to the East Coast. The letter was addressed to Dr. Jeff rey Brown, Director of Manuscripts Division, Department of Rare B ooks and Special Collections, Firestone Library, Princeton Univer sity. It arrived with a few others, was duly sorted and passed al ong, and eventually landed on the desk of Ed Folk, a career junio r librarian whose task, among several other monotonous ones, was to verify the credentials of the person who wrote the letter. Ed received several of these letters each week, all in many ways the same, all from self-proclaimed Fitzgerald buffs and experts, and even from the occasional true scholar. In the previous calendar year, Ed had cleared and logged in 190 of these people through th e library. They came from all over the world and arrived wide-eye d and humbled, like pilgrims before a shrine. In his thirty-four years at the same desk, Ed had processed all of them. And, they w ere not going away. F. Scott Fitzgerald continued to fascinate. T he traffic was as heavy now as it had been three decades earlier. These days, though, Ed was wondering what could possibly be left of the great writer's life that had not been pored over, studied at great length, and written about. Not long ago, a true scholar told Ed that there were now at least a hundred books and over te n thousand published academic articles on Fitzgerald the man, the writer, his works, and his crazy wife. And he drank himself to d eath at forty-four! What if he'd lived into old age and kept writ ing? Ed would need an assistant, maybe two, perhaps even an entir e staff. But then Ed knew that an early death was often the key t o later acclaim (not to mention greater royalties). After a few d ays, Ed finally got around to dealing with Professor Manchin. A q uick review of the library's register revealed that this was a ne w person, a new request. Some of the veterans had been to Princet on so many times they simply called his number and said, Hey, Ed, I'll be there next Tuesday. Which was fine with Ed. Not so with Manchin. Ed went through the Portland State website and found his man. Undergraduate degree in American lit from the University of Oregon; master's from UCLA; adjunct gig now for three years. His photo revealed a rather plain-looking young man of perhaps thirt y-five, the makings of a beard that was probably temporary, and n arrow frameless eyeglasses. In his letter, Professor Manchin aske d whoever responded to do so by e-mail, and gave a private Gmail address. He said he rarely checked his university address. Ed tho ught, That's because you're just a lowly adjunct professor and pr obably don't even have a real office. He often had these thoughts , but, of course, was too professional to utter them to anyone el se. Out of caution, the next day he sent a response through the P ortland State server. He thanked Professor Manchin for his letter and invited him to the Princeton campus. He asked for a general idea of when he might arrive and laid out a few of the basic rule s regarding the Fitzgerald collection. There were many, and he su ggested that Professor Manchin study them on the library's websit e. The reply was automatic and informed Ed that Manchin was out o f pocket for a few days. One of Manchin's partners had hacked int o the Portland State directory just deep enough to tamper with th e English department's e-mail server; easy work for a sophisticat ed hacker. He and the imposter knew immediately that Ed had respo nded. Ho hum, thought Ed. The next day he sent the same message t o Professor Manchin's private Gmail address. Within an hour, Manc hin replied with an enthusiastic thank-you, said he couldn't wait to get there, and so on. He gushed on about how he had studied t he library's website, had spent hours with the Fitzgerald digital archives, had owned for years the multivolume series containing facsimile editions of the great author's handwritten first drafts , and had a particular interest in the critical reviews of the fi rst novel, This Side of Paradise. Great, said Ed. He'd seen it al l before. The guy was trying to impress him before he even got th ere, which was not at all unusual. 2. F. Scott Fitzgerald enro lled in Princeton in the fall of 1913. At the age of sixteen, he was dreaming of writing the great American novel, and had indeed begun working on an early version of This Side of Paradise. He dr opped out four years later to join the Army and go to war, but it ended before he was deployed. His classic, The Great Gatsby, was published in 1925 but did not become popular until after his dea th. He struggled financially throughout his career, and by 1940 w as working in Hollywood, cranking out bad screenplays, failing ph ysically and creatively. On December 21, he died of a heart attac k, brought on by years of severe alcoholism. In 1950, Scottie, hi s daughter and only child, gave his original manuscripts, notes, and letters--his papers--to the Firestone Library at Princeton. H is five novels were handwritten on inexpensive paper that did not age well. The library quickly realized that it would be unwise t o allow researchers to physically handle them. High-quality copie s were made, and the originals were locked away in a secured base ment vault where the air, light, and temperature were carefully c ontrolled. Over the years, they had been removed only a handful o f times. 3. The man posing as Professor Neville Manchin arrived at Princeton on a beautiful fall day in early October. He was di rected to Rare Books and Special Collections, where he met Ed Fol k, who then passed him along to another assistant librarian who e xamined and copied his Oregon driver's license. It was, of course , a forgery, but a perfect one. The forger, who was also the hack er, had been trained by the CIA and had a long history in the mur ky world of private espionage. Breaching a bit of campus security was hardly a challenge. Professor Manchin was then photographed and given a security badge that had to be displayed at all times. He followed the assistant librarian to the second floor, to a la rge room with two long tables and walls lined with retractable st eel drawers, each of which was locked. Manchin noticed at least f our surveillance cameras high in the corners, cameras that were s upposed to be seen. He suspected others were well hidden. He atte mpted to chat up the assistant librarian but got little in return . He jokingly asked if he could see the original manuscript for T his Side of Paradise. The assistant librarian offered a smug grin and said that would not be possible. Have you ever seen the orig inals? Manchin asked. Only once. A pause as Manchin waited for m ore, then he asked, And what was the occasion? Well, a certain fa mous scholar wished to see them. We accompanied him down to the v ault and gave him a look. He didn't touch the papers, though. Onl y our head librarian is allowed to do so, and only with special g loves. Of course. Oh well, let's get to work. The assistant opene d two of the large drawers, both labeled This Side of Paradise, a nd withdrew thick, oversized notebooks. He said, These contain th e reviews of the book when it was first published. We have many o ther samples of later reviews. Perfect, Manchin said with a grin. He opened his briefcase, took out a notepad, and seemed ready to pounce on everything laid on the table. Half an hour later, with Manchin deep in his work, the assistant librarian excused himsel f and disappeared. For the benefit of the cameras, Manchin never looked up. Eventually, he needed to find the men's room and wande red away. He took a wrong turn here and another one there, got hi mself lost, and eased through Collections, avoiding contact with anyone. There were surveillance cameras everywhere. He doubted th at anyone at that moment was watching the footage, but it could c ertainly be retrieved if needed. He found an elevator, avoided it , and took the nearby stairs. The first level below was similar t o the ground floor. Below it, the stairs stopped at B2 (Basement 2), where a large thick door waited with Emergencies Only painted in bold letters. A keypad was next to the door, and another sign warned that an alarm would sound the instant the door was opened without proper authorization. Two security cameras watched the d oor and the area around it. Manchin backed away and retraced his steps. When he returned to his workroom, the assistant was waitin g. Is everything okay, Professor Manchin? he asked. Oh yes. Just a bit of a stomach bug, I'm afraid. Hope it's not contagious. The assistant librarian left immediately, and Manchin hung around al l day, digging through materials from the steel drawers and readi ng old reviews he cared nothing about. Several times he wandered off, poking around, looking, measuring, and memorizing. 4. Manc hin returned three weeks later and he was no longer pretending to be a professor. He was clean shaven, his hair was colored a sand y blond, he wore fake eyeglasses with red frames, and he carried a bogus student card with a photo. If someone asked, which he cer tainly didn't expect, his story was that he was a grad student fr om Iowa. In real life his name was Mark and his occupation, if on e could call it that, was professional thievery. High-dollar, wor ld-class, elaborately planned smash-and-grab jobs that specialize d in art and rare artifacts that could be sold back to the desper ate victims for ransom. His was a gang of five, led by Denny, a f ormer Army Ranger who had turned to crime after being kicked out of the military. So far, Denny had not been caught and had no rec ord; nor did Mark. However, two of the others did. Trey had two c onvictions and two escapes, his last the year before from a feder al prison in Ohio. It was there he'd met Jerry, a petty art thief now on parole. Another art thief, a onetime cellmate serving a l ong sentence, had first mentioned the Fitzgerald manuscripts to J erry. The setup was perfect. There were only five manuscripts, al l handwritten, all in one place. And to Princeton they were price less. The fifth member of the team preferred to work at home. Ahm ed was the hacker, the forger, the creator of all illusions, but he didn't have the nerve to carry guns and such. He worked from h is basement in Buffalo and had never been caught or arrested. He left no trails. His 5 percent would come off the top. The other f our would take the rest in equal shares. By nine o'clock on a Tue sday night, Denny, Mark, and Jerry were inside the Firestone Libr ary posing as grad students and watching the clock. Their fake st udent IDs had worked perfectly; not a single eyebrow had been rai sed. Denny found his hiding place in a third-floor women's restro om. He lifted a panel in the ceiling above the toilet, tossed up his student backpack, and settled in for a few hours of hot and c ramped waiting. Mark picked the lock of the main mechanical room on the first level of the basement and waited for alarms. He hear d none, nor did Ahmed, who had easily hacked into the university' s security systems. Mark proceeded to dismantle the fuel injector s of the library's backup electrical generator. Jerry found a spo t in a study carrel hidden among rows of stacked tiers holding bo oks that had not been touched in decades. Trey was drifting aroun d the campus, dressed like a student, lugging his backpack, scopi ng out places for his bombs. The library closed at midnight. The four team members, as well as Ahmed in his basement in Buffalo, w ere in radio contact. Denny, the leader, announced at 12:15 that all was proceeding as planned. At 12:20, Trey, dressed like a stu dent and hauling a bulky backpack, entered the McCarren Residenti al College in the heart of the campus. H, Anchor, 2018, 3, Victor Books, June 1975. Trade Paperback . Very Good. Light edge and cover wear. Unmarked pages. All Orders Shipped With Tracking And Delivery Confirmation Numbers., Victor Books, 3<