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Chapters (50)
  1. Praise
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. The Awful Truth
  7. The Life
  8. Make That Four
  9. Heaven, or: Last April at the Frick
  10. New Punch Line
  11. The J-Mart Employee of the Year Pleads His Case
  12. Reminder
  13. Auto-Nav
  14. Our Greatest Hit Hits Again, or: Who Is the Rat Burglar?
  15. I’m the Mang?
  16. Me vs. the Goldfish
  17. Size Matters
  18. Life of Crime
  19. I High-Beam the Dream
  20. What the Covet Girl Tells Me
  21. How Memory Harvesting Can Save Your Life
  22. The Sound of Our Future Together
  23. Bullet by Bullet
  24. The Effects of Drinking and Dosing
  25. A Bra Tells the Truth
  26. Gun Therapy
  27. WWPD: What Would Pinkerton Do?
  28. The Nakamura Job
  29. The Treachery of Images
  30. Herk to the Rescue
  31. The Truth About Herkimer
  32. The Polecat
  33. Do I or Don’t I?
  34. The World I Know Nothing About
  35. Kong’s Price
  36. Bathroom Talk
  37. Good Start
  38. Reunited
  39. Baconmouth
  40. Teamwork
  41. A Picture of Loveliness
  42. The Forty-fifth Murder
  43. The Unreachable
  44. Ambiguity
  45. Exit
  46. Sacrifice
  47. Otto Starks, Supernova
  48. Snitching
  49. Clean Getaway
  50. Acknowledgements

Siren says: “You know you want it. What will you do to get it?”

4

Don’t laugh. One guy, Simon McCord, tried this twice. He tried it once on Schermer, which garnered him low seven figs of Ashcanners, and once on me, which garnered him five years in stir upstate. Not that I’m bragging or anything.

5

Pinky wasn’t an imposing dog—just an Australian shepherd mix—but he was smart and steadfast and developed a bit of a reputation after the Frankie “Nickels” Bozzuto bust. Sometimes I think my recent demotion was caused in part by Pink’s death. Sure, the Rat Burglar is obviously skilled, and yes, he has gotten the best of me the last three times, and I suppose technically I’ve already been cut considerable slack after so many hits, but the truth is I have simply been off my game since I lost Pink.

6

I have a whole routine planned for this—I have been obsessing about it for months—but can’t decide if it’s sweet or disgusting. I fear it’s disgusting, however, and I can’t bring myself to talk about it. I haven’t breathed a word about it to anyone. I haven’t even made one nibstroke about it in my journal. You think I’m going to elaborate here?

7