Don't Ever Get Old (Buck Schatz Series #1)

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Overview

When Buck Schatz, senior citizen and retired Memphis cop, learns that an old adversary may have escaped Germany with a fortune in stolen gold, Buck decides to hunt down the fugitive and claim the loot. But a lot of people want a piece of the stolen treasure, and Buck’s investigation quickly attracts unfriendly attention from a very motley (and murderous) crew in Daniel Friedman's Don't Ever Get Old, nominated for an Edgar Award for Best First Novel.

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Overview

When Buck Schatz, senior citizen and retired Memphis cop, learns that an old adversary may have escaped Germany with a fortune in stolen gold, Buck decides to hunt down the fugitive and claim the loot. But a lot of people want a piece of the stolen treasure, and Buck’s investigation quickly attracts unfriendly attention from a very motley (and murderous) crew in Daniel Friedman's Don't Ever Get Old, nominated for an Edgar Award for Best First Novel.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Friedman’s excellent debut introduces a highly unusual hero, 87-year-old, politically incorrect Buck Schatz, a former member of the Memphis PD, who’s become a living legend. Schatz’s memory is less and less reliable, and his physical decline is making his world “a gradually shrinking circle.” That circle becomes a good deal larger after he agrees to a request to visit Jim Wallace, a soldier he served with in WWII who’s on his deathbed. Wallace reveals that Heinrich Ziegler, the SS officer who ran the POW camp where both Schatz and Wallace were imprisoned, survived the war. On top of that shocker, Wallace reveals that he facilitated the Nazi’s escape in exchange for a gold bar. Schatz’s furious reaction accelerates Wallace’s demise and sets off a frantic search for Ziegler and the treasure he still possesses. Friedman makes his limited lead plausible, and bolsters the story line with wickedly funny dialogue. Agent: Victoria Skurnick, Levine Greenberg Literary Agency. (May)
From the Publisher
"Once you start reading this wonderfully original and totally engrossing story, you’ll do what I did: keep reading . . . When I’m 87, I want to be Buck Schatz."

—Nelson DeMille

"Friedman’s excellent debut introduces a highly unusual hero, 87-year-old, politically incorrect Buck Schatz, a former member of the Memphis PD, who’s become a living legend...Friedman makes his limited lead plausible, and bolsters the story line with wickedly funny dialogue."

Publishers Weekly (starred review) 

"Knockout of a book." 

Booklist (starred review) 

"A sardonically appealing debut."

Kirkus (starred review)  

"Short chapters, crackling dialogue, and memorable characters make this a standout debut. Evokes Elmore Leonard."

Library Journal (starred) 

"Getting old isn't fun, but reading about Buck coping with it and a slew of dirty deeds — and possibly fatal adversaries — is."

—Associated Press

"It’s a pitch-perfect debut novel, expertly balancing comedy, gritty crime drama, absurdity, and genuine poignancy. It’s also one of the most assured debuts in some time... Highly recommended"

- Mystery Scene

"Friedman’s debut novel is one of the most original and entertaining tales I have read in many a moon...Don’t Ever Get Old is just about as good as debut mysteries get." 

—Bruce Tierney, Bookpage

"Buck transcends masculinity in favor of manliness...  If you don’t like this book, there’s something wrong with you."

- Douglas Lord, "Books For Dudes" columnist for Library Journal

"Daniel Friedman is the Jewish Elmore Leonard. Friedman is a master storyteller who can speed your heart up and stop it on a dime."

—Andrew Shaffer, EvilReads.com

"Laugh-out-loud funny as well as surprisingly poignant. Kudos to Daniel Friedman for giving us a nearly ninety-year-old hero who's not going gently into that good night—he's going out with guns blazing, F-bombs flying and a pack of Lucky Strikes."

—Lisa Brackmann, author of Rock Paper Tiger

“We have nothing to fear from aging, if Don’t Ever Get Old isany measure. By turns gritty and snappy, Friedman’s clever debut novel is like an epilogue to ‘Inglorious Basterds,’ sixty-six years later.”

—Alma Katsu, author of The Taker

"If you read one book this year about the adventures of an eighty-eight-year-old Jewish retired cop and his frat-boy grandson, it had better be Daniel Friedman’s Don’t Ever Get Old.  Friedman creates a colorful cast of oddball characters and sends them on a quest to recover a stash of Nazi gold.  The result is a twisty, funny, fast-paced treat.”

—Harry Dolan, author of Bad Things Happen

“In this crackling debut, Dan Friedman paints a pitch-perfect portrait of crusty, gun-toting, octogenarian Jewish ex-cop Baruch “Buck” Schatz as he searches for Nazi gold. Funny, suspenseful, and poignant, Don't Ever Get Old will stick with you long after you’ve turned the last page. If you love a great story well-told, put Friedman high on your list of “must reads.”

—Alan Orloff, Agatha Award-nominated author of Killer Routine

Library Journal
Back in the day, Baruch "Buck" Schatz was a renowned Memphis homicide detective. Now long retired, he is asked to visit Jim, an old army colleague (they were in a German POW camp back in World War II), who's on his deathbed and wants Buck's forgiveness. Apparently, Jim took a bribe of gold from SS Officer Heinrich Ziegler, which allowed Ziegler to escape prosecution. Jewish Buck, who nearly died under Ziegler's torture, is incensed to learn that the old Nazi has been living in the United States for decades. After a convoluted search that attracts the attention of several individuals who believe Buck will lead them to the fortune in gold Ziegler still harbors, Buck ascertains his target is living in St. Louis. Suddenly, the 87-year-old Buck has roped his grandson Billy, a law school student, into a memorable road trip filled with pathos, bank robbery, and murder. The murders follow Buck and Billy home again in a particularly gruesome and troubling pattern. VERDICT Short chapters, crackling dialog, and memorable characters make this a standout debut. With his curmudgeonly lead, Friedman ensures his intergenerational detective story maintains a pitch-perfect tone. The underlying theme of revenge balances a wacky plot that evokes Elmore Leonard. This has a direct topical connection with P.J. Tracy's Live Bait, too.
Kirkus Reviews
A geezer cowboy who's been retired from Memphis Homicide longer than he served there is thrust into the middle of a murderous hunt for Nazi plunder. What a shame that when Jim Wallace was on his deathbed, he asked his old comrade-in-arms Buck Schatz to come see him. The two had never been friends, and they don't bond now over Jim's revelation that he'd accepted a bar of gold in return for letting the supposedly dead Heinrich Ziegler, the SS commandant of the POW camp where both GIs languished in 1944, pass through a military crossing and out of history. As if Jim's confession weren't bad enough, Buck soon realizes that Jim blabbed to everyone he could reach from his hospital bed. Now Jim's daughter Emily and her repellant husband Norris, Baptist preacher Lawrence Kind, Israeli agent Yitzchak Steinblatt and casino debt collector T. Addleford Pratt are all convinced that Buck is on the trail of Ziegler and his gold, and they're all determined to cut themselves in for a piece of the action. Worse still, someone doesn't trust natural causes to eliminate his competitors. Since he's 88 years old, Buck's clear mandate is to go back to watching daytime TV. Instead, he pokes Det. Randall Jennings with a stick and, when that fails, enlists his grandson William, aka Tequila, to spend his summer off from NYU Law School helping him track down Ziegler. The real prize here, however, isn't Nazi treasure but Buck's what-the-hell attitude toward observing social pieties, smoking in forbidden venues and making life easier for other folks. As he battles memory loss and a host of physical maladies, it's great to see that he can still make whippersnapper readers laugh out loud. A sardonically appealing debut for a detective who assures his long-suffering grandson, "I care about people. I just don't like them."
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780312606930
  • Publisher: St. Martin's Press
  • Publication date: 5/22/2012
  • Pages: 304
  • Product dimensions: 5.86 (w) x 8.48 (h) x 1.06 (d)

Meet the Author

DANIEL FRIEDMAN is a graduate of the University of Maryland and NYU School of Law. He lives in New York City. Don't Ever Get Old won a Macavity Award for Best First Novel, and Lionel Wigram, the producer of four Harry Potter films and the Sherlock Holmes sequel, is both producing and writing the script for the movie version.

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Read an Excerpt

1

 

 

In retrospect, it would have been better if my wife had let me stay home to see Meet the Press instead of making me schlep across town to watch Jim Wallace die.

I’d known Jim since back when I was in the service, but I didn’t consider him a friend. So when Rose interrupted my programs to tell me she’d just got a call from the hospital and that Wallace was in intensive care and asking for me, I said I’d have plenty of time to see him at his funeral.

“You have to go visit him, Buck. You can’t ignore a dying man’s last request.”

“You’d be surprised, darling, by what I can ignore. I got a long history of being ignorant.”

I capitulated, though, after I lodged my token objection. I saw no point in fighting with Rose. After sixty-four years of marriage, she knew all my weak points.

Jim was downtown at the MED, too far away for me to drive. It was getting hard to remember where things were and how they fit together, so my world had become a gradually shrinking circle, with the house in the middle of it. But that excuse wouldn’t save me; Wallace’s daughter, Emily, offered to come and pick me up, even though I’d never met her before.

“Thank you for doing this, Mr. Schatz,” she said as she backed her car out of my driveway. “I know it must seem weird that Daddy is asking for you, but he’s nearing the end, and they’ve got him on a lot of stuff, for the infection and for the pain, and for his heart. He’s sort of drifting back into the past.”

She was a couple of years past her fiftieth, I guessed; the flesh around her jawline was just beginning to soften. She was wearing sweats and no makeup and looked like she hadn’t slept in a long time.

“He’s not so coherent all the time, and sometimes, when he looks at me, I’m not sure if he knows who I am.” She stifled a sob.

This was shaping up to be a real swell morning. I made a grunting sound that I thought might seem sympathetic and started to light a cigarette.

Her face kind of pursed up a little. “Do you mind not smoking in my car?”

I minded, but I let it slide.

Visiting people in the hospital was a pain in the ass; I knew going in that they wouldn’t let me smoke, and I always worried a little that they wouldn’t let me leave. I was eighty-seven years old and still buying Lucky Strikes by the carton, so everyone figured I was ripe to keel over.

Jim Wallace was in the geriatric intensive care unit, a white hallway full of filtered air and serious-looking people. Despite all the staff’s efforts to keep the place antiseptic, it stank of piss and death. Emily led me to Jim’s room, and the glass door slid shut behind us and sealed itself with a soft click. Norris Feely, Emily’s overweight husband, was sitting in a plastic chair, staring at game shows on a television mounted on the wall above the bed. I thought about asking him to switch it over to my talk program, but I didn’t want to give anyone the impression that I was willing to stay for very long.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Schatz,” he said, without looking away from the screen. “Pop has told us a lot about you.” He extended his hand, and I shook it. His fingers were plump and sweaty, and he had more hair on his knuckles than he did on his head, but his nails were manicured and coated with clear polish, so they stood out like little pink rhinestones stuck onto some hirsute, misshapen sausages.

A weak voice from the bed: “Buck? Buck Schatz?” Wallace was hooked up to an IV, a heart monitor, and something I thought might be a dialysis machine. He had a tube in his nose. His skin had taken on a waxy yellow pallor, and the whites of his eyes were brownish and filmy. His breath came in slow rasps and smelled like disease. He looked horrible.

“You look good, Jimmy,” I said. “You’ll beat this yet.”

He let out a rattling cough. “Reckon not, Buck. I suppose I’m not too long for this world.” He waved a feeble hand, a mostly unsuccessful attempt at a dramatic gesture.

“I wish things were different,” I said, which meant that I wished Jim had been kind enough to die without bothering me about it.

“God, how’d we get so old?”

“If I’d seen it coming, I’d have got out of the way.”

He nodded, as if that made a lot of sense. “It means so much that you’re here.”

I didn’t see why it was so important to Jim to share his final hours with somebody who thought he was kind of an asshole. Maybe he found comfort in familiarity.

He pointed a quivering finger at Norris and Emily. “Go away for a minute,” he told them. “Gotta have some old war talk with Buck, in private.”

“Dad, the war was sixty years ago,” said Emily. Her nose was running, and her upper lip was damp with snot.

“Don’t tell me when’s what.” Jim’s eyes seemed to slide out of focus for a moment, and it took him a couple of deliberate blinks to regain his bearing. “I know what I need to say, need to say to Buck. Get.”

“Daddy, please.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.

“Maybe I’d better go home,” I said hopefully. But Jim had gotten hold of my wrist, and he was hanging on with surprising strength.

“No, Buck stays,” he wheezed as he jabbed a finger in his daughter’s direction. “Privacy.”

Norris draped a protective arm over Emily and guided her gently out of the room. The sliding door clicked shut behind them, and I was left alone with the dying man. I tried to pull my arm out of his sallow claw, but he held tight.

“Jim, I know you’re a little confused, but the war was a long time ago,” I said.

He sat up a little, and his whole body shook with the effort. Those sunken yellow eyes were bulging in their sockets, and his loose jowls twisted with anguish. “I saw him,” he said. Phlegm rattled in his throat. “I saw Ziegler.”

Hearing that name was enough to knot my guts up. Heinrich Ziegler had been the SS officer in charge of the POW camp where we were stuck in 1944 after our unit got cut off and overrun in southern France.

“Ziegler’s dead, Jim,” I told him. “Shot by the Russians during the fall of Berlin.”

“I know he wasn’t so good to you, Buck, when he found out you was Jewish.”

Without thinking, I rubbed with my free hand at the ridges of scar tissue on my lower back. “He wasn’t so good. But he’s dead.” I was sure this was true. I’d gone looking for Ziegler after the war.

“Probably dead. Probably by now. But I seen him. Forgive me.”

He was still hanging on to my wrist, and I was starting to feel nauseous, either from what Jim was saying or from the stink coming off him.

“What do you mean?”

“I was working as an MP, manning a roadblock between East and West in 1946, and he rolled up in a Mercedes-Benz.”

“No.” I felt a lump rise in my throat. “Not possible.”

Jim’s stare was fixed on the wall, and he didn’t seem to hear me. “He had papers with a different name, but I knew him when I saw him,” he said. “Lord help me, I let him go.”

“Why?” My mouth had gone dry. Side effect of all the damn pills I took. I swallowed, hard. “Why would you do that, Jim?”

“Gold. He had lots of those gold bars, like in the movies. I remember, the whole back end of the car was riding low from the weight of them. He gave me one, and I let him get away.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“We didn’t have no money. Never had none growing up. And we wanted to buy a house. We wanted to start a family.”

I didn’t say anything. I tried to wrench my arm away from him, but his grip held. One of the machines next to his bed started beeping louder.

“Forgive me, Buck,” he said. “I’m going over, very soon. I’m scared to die. Scared of being judged. Scared I’m going to hell for the bad things I’ve done. I can’t carry this weight with me. Tell me it’s all right.”

I tugged my arm a little harder. I had to get out of there; I was going to be sick. “Forgive you? You knew what kind of a monster Ziegler was. You saw the things he did to our boys. You saw the things he did to me, for God’s sake. All a man’s got is his integrity, and you sold yours, Jim.”

I gave a sharp yank, trying to extricate myself from his grasp, but he hung on, looking at me with pleading eyes. I gave up on getting away and, instead, leaned in close to him. “If there’s a hell, the two of you belong there together.”

He must not have liked that, because his whole body convulsed, his back arched, and the heart monitor started screaming. Two doctors and a nurse ran into the room, and through the open door, I could see Emily in the hallway with tears streaming down her face.

“He’s coding,” shouted one of the doctors. “We need a crash cart.”

The other doctor pointed at me. “Get him out of here.”

“I’d be happy to go, Doc, if he’d just let me.” Jim’s hand was still wrapped around my wrist.

But the doctor was already pounding on Jim’s chest and squeezing the respirator bag over his mouth. The nurse came over to me and pried the clenched fingers off my arm. She pushed me back, out of the way, as the doctor hit Jim with the electric paddles. Jim’s body jumped. The doctor with the paddles looked to the nurse.

“Anything?” he asked.

“No.”

The machine was still wailing.

“Gonna hit him again,” said the doctor, turning the voltage knob on the defibrillator.

“Clear.” The body seized up again, but the line on the monitor had gone flat.

The other doctor kept working the oxygen bag. I rubbed at my wrist; purple bruises were blossoming out from where Jim had squeezed. A couple of years back, my doctor put me on Plavix, a blood thinner, to keep me from having a stroke. The stuff made me bruise like an overripe peach.

I pulled out my pack of Luckys and flicked at the silver Dunhill cigarette lighter I carry around, but my hands were shaking so much, I couldn’t get the damn thing to spark.

“You can’t smoke in here,” the nurse told me.

“He don’t look like he minds much,” I said, gesturing at Jim.

“Yeah, well, his oxygen tank probably minds, mister,” she said, and she swept me into the hallway. The sliding glass door clicked shut behind me.

Norris was leaning against the wall, his face a slackened, puffy mask; Emily was pacing the floor, crying.

I touched her arm.

“There’s nothing more you can do for him,” I said. “But I need a ride home.”

 

Copyright © 2012 by Daniel Friedman

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 18 )
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Sort by: Showing all of 18 Customer Reviews
  • Posted May 29, 2012

    The Jewish Elmore Leonard

    I read an advance copy of this book over a year ago, and have been counting down the days until the rest of the world could read it. I don't normally read a lot of noir or thrillers, but Friedman won me over with his crackling storytelling. If you read only one novel featuring a gun-toting, wise-cracking, octogenarian protagonist this year, make it "Don't Ever Get Old." Friedman is a master storyteller who can speed your heart up and stop it on a dime.

    6 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted August 1, 2012

    more from this reviewer

    I Loved It!

    Warning: This is not a book for my usual Christian fiction readers. Not because it isn't an interesting book and not because it isn't as inspirational as the books I usually review. I loved it. But, it involves some pretty ugly murders and what I think may be typical police language, including the four-letter words not found in family fiction.

    Okay. So if you're still reading you may wonder why I read the book in the first place. Actually, it was by mistake. I get most of my books free from several Christian publishers and when I received an email about this book, I assumed the message was from one of the regular publishers. Then, by the time I figured out it wasn't, it was too late. I had to read the rest of the book to find out what happens.

    This story is about an eighty-seven year old Jewish retired policeman by the name of Baruch Schatz, who goes by Buck Schatz. The advanced age and the Jewish angle are both important because Buck and his friend Jim Wallace were prisoners of war in World War II.

    On his deathbed, Jim Wallace confesses to Buck that he had accepted a bribe from Heinrich Ziegler, the SS officer in charge of the POW camp where Buck and Jim where held. After the war, Buck searched for Ziegler to get revenge for the way he had been treated. Jim, while working as a guard, allowed Ziegler to pass through a road check for a gold brick. Before his death, Jim asks Buck for forgiveness.

    The rest of the book is about Buck and his grandson Tequila tracking down Ziegler, who is now living in the United States. Tequila and Jim's son-in-law, Norris Feely, as well as Jim's pastor, Larry Kind, are mostly interested in what gold may still be in Ziegler's possession, but Buck would still like to find him for revengeful reasons. Buck, who has been retired from the police force in Memphis for more than thirty years, knows nothing about computers and the latest investigative techniques. But, he still has his instincts for finding criminals.

    The gold worth millions is an incentive for all sorts of evil human behavior and this takes the story off in that direction. But, Buck is not distracted by the treasure.

    As a story teller, I've worried about making my main character too old out of fear of limiting my readers to people of a certain age. But as I read this book I realized it didn't matter how old the person is. What matters is his or her character. Buck is a one you'll not soon forget.

    I received a complimentary copy of this book for review from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted July 17, 2012

    Great Characters! I loved this book. Buck, with all his foible


    Great Characters!
    I loved this book. Buck, with all his foibles and supposedly deteriorating mental acuity is a real kick in the pants. And the reader just knows that Tequila is sure to one day become as interesting as his grandfather. The mystery is good, but it’s the characters who make this book. Author Friedman brings them to life with sharp dialogue and just the right amount of description.


    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 4, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    Daniel Friedman¿s debut novel introduces Baruch ¿Buck¿ Schatz, a

    Daniel Friedman’s debut novel introduces Baruch “Buck” Schatz, an 87-year-old Jewish ex-cop from Memphis who is told, at the bedside of a long-time acquaintance trying to clear his conscience as he lies dying, about an ex-SS officer who’d been in charge of the prison camp where they were interred in 1944, from whom he’d accepted a bribe to allow him to escape from Germany after the camps were liberated. Buck had nearly been killed by the Nazi during the war, and still bears the emotional and physical scars. He vows to try to track down the man, apparently now living in the US and ostensibly carrying a fortune in stolen gold bars.

    The protagonist is an unforgettable character, self-described as “grumpy more for sport than out of necessity.” No less unforgettable is his grandson, a student at NYU Law School named William Tecumseh Schatz, whose nickname is Tequila (apparently a frat thing). (Of his grandson, Buck says “Maybe because he was family, I disliked him less than most other people.”) Buck and Rose, his beloved wife of 64 years, still dealing with the loss of their only son six years prior at age 52, are now dealing with matters having to do with escalating frailty, both mental and physical.

    A few murders take place as Buck tries to track down the ex-Nazi and the gold, and Buck and his grandson try to find the killer as the body count rises, as various suspects, including a Mississippi loan shark, a 300-pound Russian, and the Mossad, cross their path, often engulfing them both in threatening situations. We are frequently reminded by Buck that “nobody’s innocent.”

    Interspersed from time to time are brief passages from Buck’s notebook of “Things I Don’t Want to Forget” (primary among which is a reminder that “paranoia was an early symptom of dementia in the elderly,” important for him to remember since paranoia seems to be recurring with worrisome frequency). These are often more like ruminations than part of any story, but they are intrinsic to knowledge of the man, as well as occasional historical details.

    Having somehow let the hardcover edition of this book escape me, I was delighted to see the paperback edition hit the shelves. I had seen the starred reviews the book had received from Publishers Weekly, Booklist, and Kirkus Reviews, and after it won the prestigious Macavity Award for Best First Novel, I said ‘this is a book I must read!!” And once I started it I was hardly able to stop reading, till today, when I put the book down, still smiling. The author does not shy away from the occasional difficult and wrenching truths. Alternately laugh-out-loud funny, often poignant, frequently touching, and with a whale of an ending, the book is highly recommended. Parenthetically, of the title, I have two comments: (1) I agree completely; and (2) it’s too late :-(

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted July 30, 2013

    What a terrific main character!!  Buck  Schatz is an 83 year old

    What a terrific main character!!  Buck  Schatz is an 83 year old retired policeman who refuses to acknowledge that age can keep him down.  He rages against the grass that he can no longer keep beautiful.  He lights up a cigarette everywhere he goes, even in non-smoking areas.  He keeps a memory notebook where he writes important things in his life in hopes of warding off dementia.  A simple bump leaves his thin skin with multiple shades of bruising. He rages against, yet deeply loves, his grown grandson whenever technology and electronics are brought up, as Buck has no idea how to use these things. He keeps his gun handy at all times because of a directive from the late General Eisenhower. He has a deep abiding love for his wife of over 60 years. He's a determined curmudgeon and a hoot and a half!




    When Buck hears a rumor that the Nazi that beat him nearly to death, while he was in a Nazi prison, may still be alive and hiding Nazi gold bars made from Jewish treasures, Buck goes on the chase.  Buck and his grandson make an hilarious and poignant pair of detectives. There are many secrets, multiple murders and intriguing suspects, requiring Buck to use everything within him to answer questions, and to stay alive.  




    Daniel Friedman has captured everything bad and everything wonderful about "old people".  This story is deeply serious, while keeping the funny bone busy. Definitely a book worthy of many accolades!!  May this just be the beginning of a long line of such uniquely engaging books!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 3, 2012

    Witty & wonderful

    I have recommended this mystery to all my friends--a must read novel•

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted July 2, 2012

    Love this guy!

    Senior citizen hero--how refreshing. Much more interesting character than the beautiful, bland, impossibly perfect younger guys!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted June 11, 2014

    Highly recommend! It's a very different type of book. Couldn't

    Highly recommend! It's a very different type of book. Couldn't put it down. A must read!!

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  • Posted December 13, 2012

    DON'T EVER GET OLD is a remarkable story. Buck Schatz is a wise-

    DON'T EVER GET OLD is a remarkable story. Buck Schatz is a wise-cracking, foulmouthed, cigarette smoking, eighty-seven-year-old, Jewish curmudgeon. The story is captivating, but I’m not sure if one reads because one needs to follow the story or because one needs to see what Buck says next.

    God, do I want to be like him when I grow up!

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  • Posted November 24, 2012

    more from this reviewer

    Excellent storytelling. Unique. Entertaining. What a great idea

    Excellent storytelling. Unique. Entertaining. What a great idea for a detective story. And we'll told. I keep checking back to see if Book 2 is out yet. I can't wait.

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  • Posted October 25, 2012

    more from this reviewer

    We are so accustomed to our cop heroes being young and tough, or

    We are so accustomed to our cop heroes being young and tough, or middle-aged and tough. So it's a unique experience reading about a cop who's retired - and 87 years old. Buck Schatz is a feisty veteran who as a Jewish soldier in WW II, managed to survive brutal treatment at a POW camp run by the Germans. And he'd still like to get his hands on the Nazi officer who beat him nearly to death. When the opportunity comes, it brings a whole new set of complications, involving millions of dollars of gold bars stolen at the end of the war. Not surprisingly, once others learn of it, they want a piece of it, too. Murder and mayhem ensue as Buck and his grandson Tequila try to stay one step ahead of both criminals and the law. A totally different kind of book - with the most cantankerous, unrepentant protagonist you'll ever meet - and the most unforgettable.

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