The Gun Runner's Daughter: A Novel - Hardcover

Gordon, Neil

 
9780679437055: The Gun Runner's Daughter: A Novel
Hardcover
ISBN 10: 0679437053 ISBN 13: 9780679437055
Verlag: Random House, 1998

Inhaltsangabe

In 1995, Neil Gordon's Sacrifice of Isaac was one of the most acclaimed novels of the year. Newsday said it "immediately vaults Gordon into the company of John le Carré and Graham Greene." The Washington Post called it "one of those rare works of fiction that are both edifying and almost sinfully pleasurable." The San Francisco Chronicle described it as "the best kind of page-turner."
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Now Neil Gordon returns with The Gun Runner's Daughter, an equally compelling tale of moral and psychological suspense, the story of two lawyers who fall in love while they are on opposite sides of an arms-dealing scandal.
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For twenty-seven years, Allison Rosenthal has lived the life of the liberal elite, from summers in Martha's Vineyard to her studies at Yale. But when her father is indicted on federal charges and his profession--arms dealing--is exposed to public scrutiny, her placid life changes radically. And when her secret childhood lover is named as her father's prosecuting attorney, she must decide where her loyalties lie in a trial that is rocking the presidential administration.
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Does family come before politics? Love before law? Truth before loyalty? These are the questions the gun runner's daughter must face as she tries to negotiate the dangerous and murky world of her father's profession and the ambiguous morality of power politics in America and Israel. In this audaciously entertaining intellectual thriller, Neil Gordon brings the personal and political together with the mastery of a great storyteller.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Born in South Africa in 1958, Neil Gordon has lived in Scotland, France, and Israel. He is a graduate of the University of Michigan, where he was awarded two Hopwood Prizes for fiction, and he earned his Ph.D. in French literature at Yale. The Gun Runner's Daughter is his second novel. He lives in New York.

Aus dem Klappentext

l Gordon's Sacrifice of Isaac was one of the most acclaimed novels of the year. Newsday said it "immediately vaults Gordon into the company of John le Carré and Graham Greene." The Washington Post called it "one of those rare works of fiction that are both edifying and almost sinfully pleasurable." The San Francisco Chronicle described it as "the best kind of page-turner."<br>------<br>Now Neil Gordon returns with The Gun Runner's Daughter, an equally compelling tale of moral and psychological suspense, the story of two lawyers who fall in love while they are on opposite sides of an arms-dealing scandal.<br>------<br>For twenty-seven years, Allison Rosenthal has lived the life of the liberal elite, from summers in Martha's Vineyard to her studies at Yale. But when her father is indicted on federal charges and his profession--arms dealing--is exposed to public scrutiny, her placid life changes radically. And when her secret childhood lover is named as her

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July 1, 1994.
New York City.

1.

Only the innocent wake unafraid.
Six months earlier, she had woken when the telephone rang, muted and frantic beyond the bedroom door, and fear expanded in her like a spill of cold water on ice.
A bitter wind on her face.
A distant thunder outside.
In a fluid movement she was up, her body moving of its own volition, turning on the lamp. She was in her bedroom on Jane Street, in New York City. The cold was the air conditioner next to her bed; the thunder fireworks booming through the Village streets. It was night, or rather morning, July the first, and she was leaving in a few hours for Martha's Vineyard, where she was to meet her father at their summer house for the holiday weekend.

Under a sleeveless T-shirt her breathing eased and from her face, tanned and lightly covered with freckles on fair skin, the fear lifted, leaving no trace. Her eyes were a muted green in the dark, wide awake now, perfectly aware. Her hair, blond and heavy, untangling from the pillow, fell shoulder length.

And the telephone was ringing.
But only the innocent wake unafraid. Only the innocent close their eyes in movies, turn from danger, hesitate in fright. Allison Rosenthal went directly through the bedroom door into the living room, stepping smoothly through the trapezoids of light cast by streetlamps through the windows, and without hesitation approached the source of her fear.

Bob Stein, her father's lawyer.
"Allison. Now listen to me, doll. Your dad was arrested yesterday in Arizona. I'm on my way out. He said you could pick up a couple things for him at his place."
"Arrested for what?"
Stein's voice changed pitch. "A screwup, darling. We'll have it straightened out by dinnertime. Can you pop up to your dad's place and then down to my office? I'm on my way in. Then I got to catch a plane, so you need to step on it, honey."

His confidence was clearly forced. She hung up and returned to the bedroom. From her hips she slid the white gym shorts, from her torso the sleeveless T-shirt. Around her neck, falling to the top of her breasts, hung a heavy golden Star of David, and it swung free of her skin as she turned to the clock. It was four a.m.

Her father, she knew, would need fresh clothes, toiletries, and money--a lot of money. He would need a passport, preferably an Israeli one. All of these could be found at his apartment at 454 Park. Shifting her attention, she put on jeans, a black cotton shirt, sandals. Comfortable clothes she had expected to wear that day on the drive up to Woods Hole. Instead, she wore them into the liquid heat of the street and found a cab.

On the way she stopped at a Korean for the Times, where Ronald Rosenthal's arrest was already front-page news.

2.

His business in Phoenix had concluded the morning before. His assistants were dispatched back to the New York office, his security returned to the embassy. That afternoon he was to fly out: a Falcon Gulfstream was at the airport, and it would land him nonstop in Martha's Vineyard. There was no hurry. His daughter would not be there until the following day.

He had a leisurely lunch in the restaurant of the Grand Hyatt. A squat, handsome man, filled with the ease of wealth, eating expensive food with huge, vital appetite. After lunch he packed and stepped into the shower: Ronald Rosenthal spent a good portion of his life in planes and he knew that hot water immediately before and after a flight obviated most of its bad effects. It was while he was wet that he heard noises in his room. For a time, perfectly still, he listened. Then understanding dawned and he opened the glass door.
There were seven federal agents in the bathroom, weapons drawn. They cuffed him and took him naked into the bedroom. In the hallway, a team was staged: they didn't know he had returned his bodyguards. There were a lot--a lot--of nerves in the room.
Dripping with water, he had a strange dignity as he tried to calm his frightened captors.

"Listen to me. I'm unarmed, I'm unguarded. For God's sake, I'm naked."
An agent placed him formally under arrest. The charge was arms export control violations. Rosenthal was profoundly surprised.
"Do you know who you're talking to?"
When the agent answered in the affirmative, he shrugged and held out his wrists.
"Then undo these so that I can get dressed."

In the summer dawn, Allison read the story in the taxi to her father's apartment at 454 Park. So much for the weekend. So much for the Fourth of July weekend, her first chance to go to the island all summer, the first chance to see her father in months. A bitter moment of resentment crossed her stomach. Then, as if in compensation, she suddenly saw what her father had seen when he stepped out of his shower. Some of the federal agents arresting him were women, impassively watching a naked Jew.

3.

"Now Allison, you're not to be scared. Ron'll be out tonight. If he's not, it's utterly out of the question they won't let us post bail on a holiday weekend. So above all, don't you worry."

Once again, Bob Stein's orotund voice carried no conviction. He wore a crisp shirt with colored collar, dark blue tie hanging carelessly open. His hair, silk-thin and white, lay groomed across his pink scalp, his fingernails as he poured and drank a cup of coffee were buffed and trim at the end of his soft, long-fingered hands, one thin wrist adorned with a Mercier. His grooming, somehow, reassured her. When, however, she raised her eyes to his face, in the gray of his smooth-shaved cheeks, she saw exhaustion, then anxiety, and for the first time she began to feel seriously concerned. Bob was speaking.

"What do you know about this business, honey?"
"As little as possible."
"Is that right?" Stein regarded her appraisingly: a blond woman of twenty-seven in jeans and a black shirt. No one had ever believed that her short, dark father had provided the world with two such beautiful children: Pauly too had been blond, tall, and heartrendingly handsome. And no one had ever believed that either of them was Jewish, nor their regal blond mother, but they were. Ronald Rosenthal might have a fluid definition of legality, but he was not about to marry a shiksa.
"How's school?" Stein asked, as though the subject had not changed.
Disarmed by the non sequitur, she shrugged, and perhaps now he saw more a girl than a woman. "How's law school ever?"
"You're in first year?"
"Just finished second."

"Yeah." Stein's voice, suddenly, shifted, and Allison saw that the non sequitur had been deliberate. "Well honey, a third-year law student at NYU. Cum laude from Yale, am I right? Phi Beta Kappa? You know something about your dad's affairs, I'm guessing."
In a neutral voice, she answered with some respect: Bob knew how to be blunt.

"Daddy represents the Falcon Corporation in America. The Falcon Corporation is an Israeli defense manufacturer and dealer. The New York office brokers deals for the Israeli defense technologies, works codevelopment deals with American companies, and handles fulfillment of U.S. sales, grants, and other transfers to Israel."

And yet while she recited, she heard another account, Pauly's account, as he had once delivered it, drunk, at a Yale party when someone had asked him what his father's company did. "Falcon Corporation? Why, Falcon sells Wide Area Penetration Tools for use in Soft-Target-Rich Environments, of course, as well as Very Large Potentially Disruptive Reentry Vehicles and Violence Processing Equipment. All of it is in the interest of something called National Security, which is a term that seems to make the most sense to the people making...

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Verlag
Random House
Erscheinungsdatum
1998
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0679437053
ISBN 13 
9780679437055
Einband
Gebundene Ausgabe
Anzahl der Seiten
316
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Purmerul LTD
https://strengholt.nl/en/

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