William Ryan — новинки

The Bloody Meadow

Captain Alexei Korolev has nothing to complain about. He has his own room in an apartment, a job in the police force that puts food on the table, and his good health. In Moscow in 1937, that's a lot more than most people have to be grateful for. But for the first time in a long time, Korolev is about to be truly happy: his son Yuri is coming to visit for an entire week.

Shortly after Yuri's arrival, however, Korolev receives an urgent call from his boss—it seems an important man has been murdered, and Korolev is the only detective they're willing to assign to this sensitive case. In fact, Korolev realizes almost immediately that the layers of sensitivity and secrecy surrounding this case far exceed his paygrade. And the consequences of interfering with a case tied to State Security or the NKVD can be severe—you might lose your job, if you're lucky. Your whole family might die if you're not. Korolev is suddenly faced with much more than just discovering a murderer's identity; he must decide how far he'll go to see justice served . . . and what he's willing to do to protect his family.

In The Twelfth Department, William Ryan's portrait of a Russian policeman struggling to survive in one of the most volatile and dangerous eras of modern history is mesmerizing.

The Holy Thief

The Twelfth Department

The Twelfth Department

The Bloody Meadow

Borovitz started with petty thievery—baseball cards, candy, marbles—at age eight. By 14, shortly after the death of his father, he became a middleman, and at 25, he beat two middle-aged men at their own scam. Through most of this he maintained a second life as a nice Jewish boy who went to shul, said kaddish every day for a year for his father, looked out for his sister and turned over much of his ill-gotten gains to his mother to support the family. The scams got bigger, the trail got hotter and eventually he was caught. It took two stints in jail for him to learn that crime doesn't pay, but Borovitz attacked his reformation with the same zeal he once applied to intricate cons. His decision to become a rabbi at age 50 seems nothing less than natural. Borovitz is a storyteller at heart, so it's easy to see how he conned so many for so much. Just as natural is his commitment, with his wife, to Beit T'Shuvah, House of Return, a place for souls lost to addiction and themselves. Heart-wrenching but hilarious, raw but refreshing, this everyman tale reminds us that even nice Jewish boys can go bad, but they can also be redeemed.