It’s a Dortmunder book! What do I have to tell you? You know there is a perfect set-up for a crime. You know that by the time Dortmunder executes the plan, it is no longer going to be perfect and a most non-fortuitous circumstance will gum up the works. In this case, it seems like a simple burglary where no one is at home—an embarrassment of riches from the art world that should satisfy any gang. Imagine an absentee owner and a huge collection of expensive objets d’ art Yet, there are complications. Each step in the plan seems to be accompanied by a delay and even the planning itself is delayed by a delay that introduces another delay. How’s that for a non-spoiler spoiler?
Watch Your Back introduces a new character to the ensemble, a young runaway full of entrepreneurial larceny. Indeed, his contribution to the caper provides a profitable counterpoint and humorous irony to the (let’s call it) more altruistic endeavor that pits Dortmunder against “dose guys” against which you don’t want to be pit against. I laughed at the smooth way our protagonist called in favors and then, at how the feces proceeded to be spread by the rapidly rotating device.
There was one particular conversation that amused me. In the conversation, one interlocutor protests that communications technology has undermined honesty since the beginning. “You see, with smoke signals, that was the very first time in the whole history of the human race that you could tell somebody something that he couldn’t see you when you told him. You get what I mean?” When Dortmunder didn’t, he explained, “Sure, people still lied to each other back then, and got away with it, but it wasn’t so easy. Once smoke signals came in, you can’t see the guy telling you the story, he could be laughing behind his hand, you don’t know it.” And goes on to say, “Every step up along the way, every other kind of way to communicate, it’s always behind the other guy’s back. For thousands of years, we’ve been building ourselves a liar’s paradise.” (p. 135) The point is probably well-taken, but native drums probably provided the same effect in other parts of the world (as readers of James Gleick’s The Information will know.). But my favorite line in the entire book was the typical lawyer joke. The automotive “fence” for Stan Murch (the regular driver in these things) said, “You know, when a lawyer talks to you, the natural thing to do is not listen.” (p. 186) I know a lot of people who aren’t criminals who think that.
So, you ask yourself what’s going to happen in Watch Your Back. Will this be one of those rare capers where the gang succeeds? Will this be one of those capers where they succeed with moderate success? Whether the gang succeeds or not, I can definitely tell you that the pages where J.C. trains her new recruit, Tiny (his appearance in no way resembling his name) complains about inevitable change in his life, Stan Murch deals with his taxi-driving mother, and where Andy and Dortmunder deal with Arnie the fence are all entertaining moments—just not as entertaining as the parts I’m not telling you about.