That Left Turn At Albuquerque

by Phillips, Scott
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Phillips, Scott That Left Turn At Albuquerque
Phillips, Scott - That Left Turn At Albuquerque

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A hardboiled valentine to the Golden State, That Left Turn at Albuquerque marks the return of noir master Scott Phillips.

Douglas Rigby, attorney-at-law, is bankrupt. He's just sunk his last $200,000-a clandestine "loan" from his last remaining client, former bigshot TV exec Glenn Haskill-into a cocaine deal gone wrong. The lesson? Never trust anyone else with the dirty work. Desperate to get back on top, Rigby formulates an art forgery scheme involving one of Glenn's priceless paintings, a victimless crime. But for Rigby to pull this one off, he'll need to negotiate a whole cast of players with their own agendas, including his wife, his girlfriend, an embittered art forger, Glenn's resentful nurse, and the man's money-hungry nephew. One misstep, and it all falls apart-will he be able to save his skin?

Written with hard-knock sensibility and wicked humor, Scott Phillips's newest novel will cement him as one of the great crime writers of the 21st century.


Phillips, Scott

Further information

Chapter One
Heading up the 5 and in a hyper-enervated state, he stopped in Mission Viejo at Manny s Liquor and Variety Store, where he knew a working pay phone was attached to the brick wall outside. Scored and pitted, covered with graffiti and rust, for all Rigby knew it might have been the last one in Southern California. Next to it stood a skeletal derelict with a week s growth of beard and stiff, ancient jeans gray with filth, looking as though he was waiting for a call. Rigby decided to go inside and buy a celebratory bottle, in case the tweaker decided to shove off on his own.
      This might be the seedier side of Mission Viejo, but that still meant a fine selection of champagnes and a patronizing sales clerk. We have a nice Veuve Clicquot here for sixty-four ninety-nine, he said, nostrils flaring, eyeing him sidelong. I imagine that d do you nicely. Minus the condescension, that would have been fine for Rigby s purposes, but he felt compelled to put the salesman in his place.
     That s white trash booze, he said. How much for the Krug?
       That s vintage. 2003.
       Swell. How much?
       Three hundred nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents.
       Great, and stick a bow on it.
      Outside, the stick figure was still standing by the phone. Rigby would have preferred not to have to interact with anyone in the context of this particular call, but the man gave no sign that he intended to get lost. Once Rigby had placed the champagne in the car, he walked up to the phone, jingling the quarters in his pocket.
       Phone s in use right now, the tweaker said.
       Doesn t look that way to me.
       Waiting for a call. Urgent.
       That s not the same as in use.
       This is my phone, buddy.
      His initial instinct was to ratchet the conflict up, preferably ending with his throwing the tweaker into an arroyo somewhere, but making the least possible impression was important here, so he reached into his wallet and pulled out a ten. Here. I need privacy for ten minutes.
      The tweaker snorted and looked away. Ten bucks. Jesus, last of the big fuckin spenders here.
      Rigby crumpled the ten in his fist and focused on calming himself. He could easily lift this man over his head, snap his spine in two, could in fact do any number of things that would attract attention and ruin his chance to make an untraceable phone call.
       What you want, then?
       A hundred.
       Fuck you. A Benjamin or I ain t moving.
      Again he resisted his natural impulse to escalate the situation, instead reaching back into his wallet and extracting a beautiful new hundred-dollar bill. The tweaker took it with a demented, near-toothless grin and scooted away across the parking lot and down the sidewalk before disappearing into a copse of dried-up trees. Just as Rigby was about to pick up the receiver, the phone rang and he picked up.
       Jason, said a raspy voice on the other end of the line. The Brew
Media Type:
Penguin Random House US
Biography Artist:
Scott Phillips is a screenwriter, photographer and the author of seven novels and numerous short stories. His bestselling debut novel, The Ice Harvest, was a New York Times Notable Book and was adapted as a major motion picture starring John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton. He won the California Book Award and was a finalist for the Edgar Award, the Hammett Prize, and the CWA Gold Dagger Award. Scott was born and raised in Wichita, Kansas, and lived for many years in France. He now lives with his wife and daughter in St. Louis, Missouri.
Longlisted for the 2020 CWA Gold Dagger

Praise for That Left Turn at Albuquerque

Many writers bill themselves as noir, but if you want to experience what the word truly means, in its finest expression, then pick up That Left Turn at Albuquerque, a brutally funny, wickedly clever nightmare that heralds the triumphant return of Scott Phillips, the twenty-first century's greatest purveyor of crime fiction.
Blake Crouch, author of Recursion and the Wayward Pines trilogy

In That Left Turn at Albuquerque, Phillips displays a master alchemist s touch. No one blends the elements of happenstance, malevolence, unintended consequences, irony and humor into crime fiction magic like Phillips. No one!
Reed Farrel Coleman, New York Times bestselling author of What You Break    

A hilarious, twisty, dark, and profane romp deep into a modern noir world. The people in a Scott Phillips novel are so damn authentic, they remind me of folks I met while covering the crime beat. Phillips proves once again why he's one of the best crime writers out there.
Ace Atkins, New York Times bestselling author of The Shameless  

"The cover of St. Louis writer Scott Phillips  That Left Turn at Albuquerque shows a parked sports car gleaming in the sunshine. But behind that sunny cover looms a dark story a noir tale, acted out by some shady souls."
St. Louis Today

"The one persistent problem with reading a Scott Phillips novel is you can never figure out who you re supposed to root for. You meet a series of engaging characters, all of them relatable -- and then you realize they re all liars, cheats and maybe worse."
The Oregonian

Phillips is the real deal . . . Noir and black comedy have always been kissin cousins, but here they re locked in a torrid embrace.

Praise for Scott Phillips

Funny, craftily malevolent . . . An ice-pick-sharp crime story that sustains its film-noir energy all the way to an outrageous whammy of an ending.
The New York Times
[The author] has a way of writing a bon vivant of the Wild West with testosterone raging without it appearing macho or obnoxious or egocentric . . . It is a joy to read Phillips.
Huffington Post
Taut and vicious . . . The essence of noir.
Los Angeles Times
Phillips is dark, dangerous, and important . . . Crime fiction at its best.
Michael Connelly
The unparalleled master of the noir anti-hero.
Megan Abbott
One of the most original practitioners of noir working today.
Spinetingler Magazine
Number of Pages:

Master Data

Product Type:
Paperback book
Release date:
February 16, 2021
Package Dimensions:
0.188 x 0.127 x 0.024 m; 0.248 kg
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