Prix bas
CHF16.80
Habituellement expédié sous 1 à 2 semaines.
"Taut, fast and  relentless... A ride worth taking." —San Francisco Chronicle.
"Keeps the reader hooked... From the creepy first  chapters... to the vise-tightening midsection and  on to the take-the money-and-run finale."—The Wall Street Journal.
"Irresistable... seizes the reader on the opening  page and propels him through 400 more."—Peter Prescott, Newsweek.
Auteur
John Grisham
Texte du rabat
For a young lawyer on the make, it was an offer he couldn't refuse: a position at a law firm where the bucks, billable hours, and benefits are over the top. It's a dream job for an up-and-comer--if he can overlook the uneasy feeling he gets at the office. Then an FBI investigation plunges the straight and narrow attorney into a nightmare of terror and intrigue, with no choice but to pit his wits, ethics, and legal skills against the firm's deadly secrets--if he hopes to stay alive . . .
Résumé
#1 WORLDWIDE BESTSELLER • The iconic legal thriller that launched the career of America’s favorite storyteller, hailed as “an absolute master” (The Washington Post)
“[An] ingenious man-in-the-middle thriller.”—Entertainment Weekly
 
Mitch McDeere has worked hard to get where he is: third in his class at Harvard Law. Aggressively recruited by all the top firms, and initially headed for Wall Street, Mitch surprises everyone by joining Bendini, Lambert & Locke, a very private, very rich tax firm in Memphis. Mitch and his wife, Abby, move to Tennessee and quickly settle into their new life: they’re young, happy, and on the fast track. Or so they think.
 
Soon, though, Mitch senses trouble: two of the partners die in a suspicious diving accident off Grand Cayman; the firm’s management is overly proud of the fact that no one has ever resigned; and security measures at the firm, even for a company with billionaire clients, are more than a little stringent. Then, suddenly, Mitch’s vague suspicions come to life.
 
The FBI has the lowdown on Mitch’s firm and needs his help. Now Mitch is caught between a rock and a hard place. The FBI will bust him if he doesn’t cooperate, and the firm will kill him if he does. There’s no way out.
 
Or is there?
 
The story continues in The Exchange, the “breathtaking” (The Wall Street Journal) sequel to The Firm!
Échantillon de lecture
1
THE SENIOR PARTNER studied the résumé for the hundredth time and again found nothing he disliked about Mitchell Y. McDeere, at least not on paper. He had the brains, the ambition, the good looks. And he was hungry; with his background, he had to be. He was married, and that was mandatory. The firm had never hired an unmarried lawyer, and it frowned heavily on divorce, as well as womanizing and drinking. Drug testing was in the contract. He had a degree in accounting, passed the CPA exam the first time he took it and wanted to be a tax lawyer, which of course was a requirement with a tax firm. He was white, and the firm had never hired a black. They managed this by being secretive and clubbish and never soliciting job applications. Other firms solicited, and hired blacks. This firm recruited, and remained lily white. Plus, the firm was in Memphis, of all places, and the top blacks wanted New York or Washington or Chicago. McDeere was a male, and there were no women in the firm. That mistake had b
een made in the mid-seventies when they recruited the number one grad from Harvard, who happened to be a she and a wizard at taxation. She lasted four turbulent years and was killed in a car wreck.
He looked good, on paper. He was their top choice. In fact, for this year there were no other prospects. The list was very short. It was McDeere or no one.
The managing partner, Royce McKnight, studied a dossier labeled "Mitchell Y. McDeere--Harvard." An inch thick with small print and a few photographs, it had been prepared by some ex-CIA agents in a private intelligence outfit in Bethesda. They were clients of the firm and each year did the investigating for no fee. It was easy work, they said, checking out unsuspecting law students. They learned, for instance, that he preferred to leave the Northeast, that he was holding three job offers, two in New York and one in Chicago, and that the highest offer was $76,000 and the lowest was $68,000. He was in demand. He had been given the opportunity to cheat on a securities exam during his second year. He declined, and made the highest grade in the class. Two months ago he had been offered cocaine at a law school party. He said no and left when everyone began snorting. He drank an occasional beer, but drinking was expensive and he had no money. He owed close to $23,000 in student loans. He was hungry.
Royce McKnight flipped through the dossier and smiled. McDeere was their man.
Lamar Quin was thirty-two and not yet a partner. He had been brought along to look young and act young and project a youthful image for Bendini, Lambert & Locke, which in fact was a young firm, since most of the partners retired in their late forties or early fifties with money to burn. He would make partner in this firm. With a six-figure income guaranteed for the rest of his life, Lamar could enjoy the twelve-hundred-dollar tailored suits that hung so comfortably from his tall, athletic frame. He strolled nonchalantly across the thousand-dollar-a-day suite and poured another cup of decaf. He checked his watch. He glanced at the two partners sitting at the small conference table near the windows.
Precisely at two-thirty someone knocked on the door. Lamar looked at the partners, who slid the résumé and dossier into an open briefcase. All three reached for their jackets. Lamar buttoned his top button and opened the door.
"Mitchell McDeere?" he asked with a huge smile and a hand thrust forward.
"Yes." They shook hands violently.
"Nice to meet you, Mitchell. I'm Lamar Quin."
"My pleasure. Please call me Mitch." He stepped inside and quickly surveyed the spacious room.
"Sure, Mitch." Lamar grabbed his shoulder and led him across the suite, where the partners introduced themselves. They were exceedingly warm and cordial. They offered him coffee, then water. They sat around a shiny mahogany conference table and exchanged pleasantries. McDeere unbuttoned his coat and crossed his legs. He was now a seasoned veteran in the search of employment, and he knew they wanted him. He relaxed. With three job offers from three of the most prestigious firms in the country, he did not need this interview, this firm. He could afford to be a little overconfident now. He was there out of curiosity. And he longed for warmer weather.
Oliver Lambert, the senior partner, leaned forward on his elbows and took control of the preliminary chitchat. He was glib and engaging with a mellow, almost professional baritone. At sixty-one, he was the grandfather of the firm and spent most of his time administering and balancing the enormous egos of some of the richest lawyers in the country. He was the c…