Given the importance of what they do, and the controversies that often surround them, and the violent people they sometimes confront, it is remarkable that in the history of this country only four active federal judges have been murdered.
Judge Raymond Fawcett has just become number five.
Who is the Racketeer? And what does he have to do with the judge’s untimely demise? His name, for the moment, is Malcolm Bannister. Job status? Former attorney. Current residence? The Federal Prison Camp near Frostburg, Maryland.
On paper, Malcolm’s situation isn’t looking too good these days, but he’s got an ace up his sleeve. He knows who killed Judge Fawcett, and he knows why. The judge’s body was found in his remote lakeside cabin. There was no forced entry, no struggle, just two dead bodies: Judge Fawcett and his young secretary. And one large, state-of-the-art, extremely secure safe, opened and emptied.
What was in the safe? The FBI would love to know. And Malcolm Bannister would love to tell them. But everything has a price—especially information as explosive as the sequence of events that led to Judge Fawcett’s death. And the Racketeer wasn’t born yesterday....
Nothing is as it seems and everything’s fair game in this wickedly clever new novel from John Grisham, the undisputed master of the legal thriller.
©2012 John Grisham (P)2012 Random House Audio
I was very disappointed in this book. I did not like the characters at all, they were dull. The narration was blase. Overall, there was no passion, no interesting characters, no gripping story line.
This book struck me as the 3rd book in a 3 book contract. Just get it done so that the author has completed his obligation.
I know that Grisham has the talent, and that Jackson has a great voice. I believe that their future projects will be better.
Don't let The Racketeer tempt you, just pass on this one.
Grisham is always top notch and like so many listeners, once I start, I can never put down his stories. But while J.D. Jackson is the pitch-perfect narrator for this audiobook, playing it at 2 x speed really helped me stay with his otherwise over-comtemplative pace.
The whole plot seemed to be too contrived. The latter parts were hard to follow and not really believable
I haven't read a Grisham book in a long time and discovered when I listened to this that I really missed him!
The freedom to do my art work and get lost in a fantastic book.
Not all one sitting but every time I was in my art room, it went on.
I LOVED it!
So much to learn, and so little time to sit down and read. Thanks Audible.
I'll start by saying like John Grisham. While this wasn't one of his better books, it still kept my attention all the way through and was entertaining. The story did seem a little far fetched, but that's why it's called fiction.
I found it hard to follow after the first half and lost interest. My wife felt the same. We both are Grisham fans and have all of his books. We could not beleive he wrote it.
I like mysterys. I will buy the next Grisham book because they are usally great.
The reader did a good job.
Seriously, this book is crap. If John Grisham actually wrote this, he should either be ashamed or just quit writing. It's pedestrian, predictable and silly. I have vowed NEVER to buy another book by him as in addition to having no real story to tell, he appears to be adding useless details to increase his word count. If you like books in this genre read Gone Girl which actually has real twists and suspense. This has a dull, ponderous generic narrative. Don't bother.
What could have been a fascinating story about race, the law, and personal identity goes....nowhere. Unrealistic plot and uninteresting characters. Hard to believe that a Grisham book could be this tedious.
Nearly 1200 titles.
Another riveting story by a master story teller. This is sit in your drive-way good. The best Grisham? I don't know. But wonderfully fun, fast paced with a satisfying conclusion. Five Huzzahs.
What happened to my - until now - favorite author? I only hope he did not write this book himself. Because it's a scary thought that he did. It could only mean that with age a man's humor and common sense, no matter how compelling, become as frail as his muscles and reading his new books turns into one big yawn, on a par with watching him lifting weights.
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