THE SWEET AND THE DEAD

A retired Dallas cop who turns thief to catch a thief almost gets stung in the sting.

Call him Hog. Manfred Eugene Webern earned the nickname back when he played center for his high-school football team and was regarded as “tough and mean as an old boar.” Now in his 40s, he’s come into money, gone to pasture and bored himself silly. So when he gets an SOS from a former colleague, he’s eager to go undercover, posing as a bent cop to help topple what the media have begun calling the Dixie Mafia. At first the sting goes by the book, leaving Hog secure in the belief that his support system, composed mainly of old friends, is true-blue. Wrong. There are dueling agendas here, and one of them will have Hog singing the blues. By the night of the pivotal heist, the fix is in, leaving little wriggle room for the bad guys, or for one double-crossed good guy. But when the smoke clears and his enemies come looking to gloat, they’re the ones who wind up Hog-tied.

Burton (Rogue’s Game, 2005) presents a hero reminiscent of Spencer Tracy—laid-back, resourceful, laconic even when he’s in love, and ideal for the thinking person’s beach bag this summer.