Zusatztext "TerrificGrisham! can still devise distinctive characters! tricky legal predicaments and rogueishly cheating ways to worm out of them." --Maureen Corrigan! The Washington Post "Sebastian Rudd is a kind of social justice warrior and Grisham uses him to take jabs at the legal systemall with a blunt! rude! gravelly poetic wise guy voice that makes Rudd come across as a kind of 21st-century Philip Marlowe." --Benjamin Percy! The New York Times Book Review Informationen zum Autor John Grisham Klappentext #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • From the master of the legal thriller comes a deeply engaging and enjoyable ( USA Today ) novel featuring one of John Grisham's most colorful, outrageous, and vividly drawn characters ever. ONE OF THE WASHINGTON POST AND NPR'S BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR On the right side of the lawsort ofSebastian Rudd is not your typical street lawyer. He drinks small-batch bourbon and carries a gun. His office is a customized bulletproof van, complete with Wi-Fi, a bar, a small fridge, and fine leather chairs. He has no firm, no partners, and only one employee: his heavily armed driver, who also happens to be his bodyguard, law clerk, confidant, and golf caddie. Sebastian defends people other lawyers won't go near: a drug-addled, tattooed kid rumored to be in a satanic cult; a vicious crime lord on death row; a homeowner arrested for shooting at a SWAT team that mistakenly invaded his house. Why these clients? Because Sebastian believes everyone is entitled to a fair trialeven if he has to bend the law to secure one. Leseprobe 1. My name is Sebastian Rudd, and though I am a well-known street lawyer, you will not see my name on billboards, on bus benches, or screaming at you from the yellow pages. I don't pay to be seen on television, though I am often there. My name is not listed in any phone book. I do not maintain a traditional office. I carry a gun, legally, because my name and face tend to attract attention from the type of people who also carry guns and don't mind using them. I live alone, usually sleep alone, and do not possess the patience and understanding necessary to maintain friendships. The law is my life, always consuming and occasionally fulfilling. I wouldn't call it a jealous mistress as some forgotten person once so famously did. It's more like an overbearing wife who controls the checkbook. There's no way out. These nights I find myself sleeping in cheap motel rooms that change each week. I'm not trying to save money; rather, I'm just trying to stay alive. There are plenty of people who'd like to kill me right now, and a few of them have been quite vocal. They don't tell you in law school that one day you may find yourself defending a person charged with a crime so heinous that otherwise peaceful citizens feel driven to take up arms and threaten to kill the accused, his lawyer, and even the judge. But I've been threatened before. It's part of being a rogue lawyer, a subspecialty of the profession that I more or less fell into ten years ago. When I finished law school, jobs were scarce. I reluctantly took a part-time position in the City's public defender's office. From there I landed in a small, unprofitable firm that handled only criminal defense. After a few years, that firm blew up and I was on my own, out on the street with plenty of others, scrambling to make a buck. One case put me on the map. I can't say it made me famous because, seriously, how can you say a lawyer is famous in a city of a million people? Plenty of local hacks think they're famous. They smile from billboards as they beg for your bankruptcy and swagger in television ads as they seem deeply concerned about your personal injuries, but they're forced to pay for their own publicity. Not me. The cheap motels...

"Terrific…Grisham, can still devise distinctive characters, tricky legal predicaments and rogueishly cheating ways to worm out of them."
--Maureen Corrigan, The Washington Post
 
"Sebastian Rudd is a kind of social justice warrior and Grisham uses him to take jabs at the legal system…all with a blunt, rude, gravelly poetic wise guy voice that makes Rudd come across as a kind of 21st-century Philip Marlowe."
--Benjamin Percy, The New York Times Book Review

Autorentext

John Grisham

Klappentext

#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • From the master of the legal thriller comes a “deeply engaging and enjoyable” (USA Today) novel featuring one of John Grisham’s most colorful, outrageous, and vividly drawn characters ever.

ONE OF THE WASHINGTON POST AND NPR’S BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR

On the right side of the law—sort of—Sebastian Rudd is not your typical street lawyer. He drinks small-batch bourbon and carries a gun. His office is a customized bulletproof van, complete with Wi-Fi, a bar, a small fridge, and fine leather chairs. He has no firm, no partners, and only one employee: his heavily armed driver, who also happens to be his bodyguard, law clerk, confidant, and golf caddie.

Sebastian defends people other lawyers won’t go near: a drug-addled, tattooed kid rumored to be in a satanic cult; a vicious crime lord on death row; a homeowner arrested for shooting at a SWAT team that mistakenly invaded his house.

Why these clients? Because Sebastian believes everyone is entitled to a fair trial—even if he has to bend the law to secure one.

Leseprobe
1.

My name is Sebastian Rudd, and though I am a well‑known street lawyer, you will not see my name on billboards, on bus benches, or screaming at you from the yellow pages. I don’t pay to be seen on television, though I am often there. My name is not listed in any phone book. I do not maintain a traditional office. I carry a gun, legally, because my name and face tend to attract attention from the type of people who also carry guns and don’t mind using them. I live alone, usually sleep alone, and do not possess the patience and understanding necessary to maintain friendships. The law is my life, always consuming and occasionally fulfilling. I wouldn’t call it a “jealous mistress” as some forgotten person once so famously did. It’s more like an overbearing wife who controls the checkbook. There’s no way out.

These nights I find myself sleeping in cheap motel rooms that change each week. I’m not trying to save money; rather, I’m just trying to stay alive. There are plenty of people who’d like to kill me right now, and a few of them have been quite vocal. They don’t tell you in law school that one day you may find yourself defending a person charged with a crime so heinous that otherwise peaceful citizens feel driven to take up arms and threaten to kill the accused, his lawyer, and even the judge.

But I’ve been threatened before. It’s part of being a rogue lawyer, a subspecialty of the profession that I more or less fell into ten years ago. When I finished law school, jobs were scarce. I reluctantly took a part‑time position in the City’s public defender’s office. From there I landed in a small, unprofitable firm that handled only criminal defense. After a few years, that firm blew up and I was on my own, out on the street with plenty of others, scrambling to make a buck.

One case put me on the map. I can’t say it made me famous because, seriously, how can you say a lawyer is famous in a city of a million people? Plenty of local hacks think they’re famous. They smile from billboards as they beg for your bankruptcy and swagger in television ads as they seem deeply concerned about your personal injuries, but they’re forced to pay for their own publicity. Not me.

The cheap motels change each week. I’m in the middle of a trial in a dismal, backwater, redneck town called Milo, two hours fr…