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Dancing Aztecs — Donald E. Westlake
Jerry Manelli is a hustler. A specialist in the scam, the con, and the rip-off. Right now Jerry Manelli is on the move around Greater New York City, hot on the trail of a priest.
A very special sort of priest. A thousand-year-old, two-foot-tall, ugly, misshapen, dancing Aztec priest. He's solid gold, his eves are pure emeralds, and he's worth a million dollars.
Somebody stole him from his museum home in South America. Somebody smuggled him through U.S. Customs in a shipment of imitation priests, plaster copies. And somebody screwed up, because the wrong one got delivered to the buyers. The million-dollar statue, mixed with fifteen copies, is somewhere in New York.
Down some subway tunnel or around some street corner or up some fire escape or behind some warehouse -- somewhere in New York City glistens the million-dollar Dancing Aztec Priest.
A very special sort of priest. A thousand-year-old, two-foot-tall, ugly, misshapen, dancing Aztec priest. He's solid gold, his eves are pure emeralds, and he's worth a million dollars.
Somebody stole him from his museum home in South America. Somebody smuggled him through U.S. Customs in a shipment of imitation priests, plaster copies. And somebody screwed up, because the wrong one got delivered to the buyers. The million-dollar statue, mixed with fifteen copies, is somewhere in New York.
Down some subway tunnel or around some street corner or up some fire escape or behind some warehouse -- somewhere in New York City glistens the million-dollar Dancing Aztec Priest.
