Rum Punch: A Novel

Rum Punch: A Novel

Elmore Leonard

Language: English

Pages: 368

ISBN: 0062119826

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

“Powerful…clever…astonishing…a delicious read.”
Detroit Free Press

Rum Punch is classic Elmore Leonard—the electrifying thriller that served as the basis for the acclaimed film Jackie Brown by director Quentin Tarantino, starring Pam Grier, Robert DeNiro, and Samuel L. Jackson. Leonard’s story of a not-altogether-blameless flight attendant on the run from her vicious gun-running sometime employer who sees her as a troublesome loose end, Rum Punch is “the King Daddy of crime writers” (Seattle Times) at his sharpest and most ingeniously entertaining. In fact, People magazine calls it, “Leonard’s best work. He brilliantly reaffirms his right to the title of America’s finest crime fiction writer.” Enjoy this sensational noir winner from the creator of the character of U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens, lately of TV’s hit series Justified, and see why the great Elmore Leonard stands tall in the company of America’s most legendary crime fiction masters: John D. MacDonald, Dashiell Hammett, James M. Cain, et al.


















couldn’t drive in. What they would do juiced up was walk in when the gun shop was open, pull their pieces, and go for the assault weapons they loved. It didn’t matter they could get shot doing it, they were crazy motherfuckers. Ordell gave up on teaching them subtle ways to gain entry. He brought out his tools only when he needed to use them himself. Like this evening, getting into Jackie Burke’s apartment. Max drove home seeing her across the table in barroom light, Jackie looking at him

working her way through that pile of Mexican food, not looking up. Now she did. Turning her head to a woman at the next table. An older black woman. Max watched. The older woman said something. Now the younger woman picked up the ashtray Jackie had used and handed it to the older woman. They exchanged a few words. Then didn’t say anything for a minute or so, the older woman smoking a cigarette now. Jackie had talked to the younger woman the whole time they were together, not at all sly about

him. In the Mercedes on the way to Simone’s house, early Tuesday evening. Louis knowing why Ordell had him staying there now. Not to be entertained. The main reason, to keep an eye on the cash Simone was bringing home. Ordell getting him more and more involved in his business. Monday night, late, Ordell had taken him to the self-service storage place off Australian Avenue in a warehouse district, rows of garage doors, one after another: Ordell careful, making sure they weren’t followed and there

harder than on the dope thing. I mean, forty-two grams compared to all those fucking machine guns and rockets? Come on . . . And all that cash?” Melanie raised her head enough to sip her drink, then laid her cheek against her shoulder again, her eyes not leaving Jackie’s. “Having that money in your flight bag, even ten thousand, must be tempting. Fifty thousand the time you were busted?” Jackie nodded. “He fucks up, which he’s been known to do,” Melanie said, “and they get the cash, they get my

layers of material in tan and white, black stripes running through it. Max followed, stopping to catch the glass door swinging at him. He got the painting inside and leaned it against the table in the center, ready for more of Renee, her tiny head with its cap of dark hair sticking out of the Arab outfit, eyes brightly made up. Renee looking at the canvas now. “I was positive Ralph Lauren would buy one, after I schlepped it all the way over there. I said, ‘Hang something that has some life in

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