Has Bernie Rhodenbarr--Manhattan's coolest, calmest, least violent professional burglar--gone straight So it seems; he's now the owner of an antiquarian bookstore down on 11th St. But never fear. That's just a sideline, and Bernie is back to his old tricks, having been hired to steal a one-of-a-kind Kipling rarity (the only surviving copy of an anti-Semitic narrative poem) from a lavish Forest Hills Gardens townhouse. He does so, beautifully, but when he shows up to deliver the goods, he's drugged and wakes to find himself--as usual--framed for murder. So Bernie's on the lam again, hiding out with lesbian chum Carolyn, and tracking down various suspects--the phony who hired him to steal, a Maharajah who's after the Kipling, and the mystery boyfriend of the murder victim (a kinky courtesan). Bernie's narrating sass is as jazzy as ever (always just slightly too smartsy for comfort), with bookish humor mixing in nicely with the burglary lore. So, except for rather too much attention to sidekick Carolyn's lesbian affairs of the heart, it's another slick Rhodenbarr romp, full of blithely stolen cars, giddy plotting, and streetwise Manhattan atmosphere.