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Will Ferguson

419

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A car tumbles through darkness down a snowy ravine. A woman without a name walks out of a dust storm in Africa. And in the seething heat of Lagos City, a criminal cartel scours the Internet, looking for victims.

Lives intersect. Worlds collide. And it all begins with a single email: 'Dear Sir, I am the daughter of a Nigerian diplomat, and I need your help…'

At once a chilling thriller about a lonely woman avenging her father's death and an epic portrait of morality and corruption across the globe, Will Ferguson's Giller Prize-winning novel plunges into the labyrinth of lies that is '419', the world's most insidious Internet scam.

Este libro no está disponible por el momento.
413 páginas impresas
Propietario de los derechos de autor
Head of Zeus
Año de publicación
2013
Editorial
Head of Zeus
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  • indiana delcloscompartió una citael mes pasado
    Instead of a handshake, a business card. “Sergeant Brisebois,” he said. “I’m with the city’s Traffic Response Unit.”

    His card read Sgt. Matthew Brisebois, TRU. She wanted to circle the typo, add an “e.” But no, not a typo. Something much worse.

    “I deal with traffic fatalities. I’ll be overseeing this investigation. I’m very sorry about your father.”

    No, you’re not. Without traffic fatalities, you’d be out of a job. “Thank you.”
  • indiana delcloscompartió una citael mes pasado
    The Oil Men run pipelines above ground directly through our villages, they are flaring gas in the midst of human habitation, they are leaving oil spills to seep into the groundwater, are expropriating farmlands willy-nilly. Gas flares sour our air. The flood plains are ruined. Crops have been razed, and hardwood forests have been clear-cut with impunity. Poisoned seas and burning skies. ENOUGH!
  • indiana delcloscompartió una citael mes pasado
    The mix-and-match assortment of containers used to transport the bunkered fuel had given way to zeeps—square stackables made of plastic, easy to fill and easy to load. Speedboats soon sprouted second motors, and their drivers became increasingly reckless, weaving in and out, swamping those few canoes still casting nets along the currents.

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