The moment Iβd scanned the outside of the building, I turned to Bruno and said, βFirst impressions, it looks straightforward.β Looking back, I canβt help but wonder what I was thinking. I mean, put that line at the opening of a crime novel and itβs practically a guarantee that everything is about to get complicated.
Charlie Howardβglobe-trotting mystery writer, professional thief, and poor decision makerβis in Paris. Flush with the success of his latest book reading, not to mention a few too many glasses of wine, Charlie agrees to show a complete novice how to break into an apartment in the Marais. Fast-forward twenty-four hours and Charlieβs hired to steal an ordinary-looking oil paintingβfrom the exact same address.
Mere coincidence? Charlie figures thereβs no harm in finding outβuntil a dead body turns up in his living room and he finds himself evading the law while becoming caught up in a quite outrageous heist. And thatβs before Charlieβs literary agent, Victoria (whoβs naive enough to assume that he looks like his author photo), finally decides they should meet face-to-face.
Nobody ever said a life of suspense was easy, but Charlie, the most disarmingly charming burglar since Cary Grant, soon finds things are getting way out of control.
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