For an unsuspecting group of friends, a hike through the forest turns into a desperate fight for survival Mr. Rogers is the ideal guide for a few neighbors looking to survey a large, wooded piece of property: He remembers every tree, stream, and bush; when there's a fork in the road, he knows which way to go. But the surveying trip goes horribly wrong when Rogers suffers a debilitating heart attack and the group is left wandering lost through the woods, with Rogers a murmuring shadow of his former self.Almost immediately, tensions that have existed among the friends since childhood begin to flare up. The forest grows darker and more threatening. Leadership claims are staked and rescinded. Fears start to overwhelm rational decision-making. Then Rogers starts spouting instructions in what sounds like a mystic cipher.The Eighth Square is a rollicking psychological thriller that deftly demonstrates how thin the barrier between man and animal truly is.

This is the story of a psycho killer loose in New York, with the cop personally drawn into the search. He is sometimes hampered, by a hypochondriacal medical genius who is the oustanding character in the book.

When a madman begins using the work of Botticelli as inspiration for his gruesome tableaus, a New York museum curator is the only man who can stop himMike Manship is an up-and-coming curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. With a Botticelli retrospective fast approaching, Manship is poised to become the Met’s director if he can secure three final drawings from Italy. Standing in his way is Ludovico Borghini, a neo-fascist count with a fanatical devotion to his Italian heritage and a deadly obsession with the Renaissance master’s work. Between them are the three masterpieces and the alluring Isobel Cattaneo, a direct descendant of Botticelli’s greatest muse, Simonetta.Borghini is determined to maintain possession of the drawings, and in the grips of his mania, he kidnaps Cattaneo, whom he suspects of aiding Manship. As the search for Cattaneo reaches a fever pitch, Manship discovers that Borghini is a much more twisted nemesis than he could ever have anticipated—one whose depravity reaches chilling depths.Amazon.com ReviewSuspense expert Lieberman mixes art, madness and murder in this highly imaginative and literate new thriller about a museum curator trying to put together a major exhibit of the 15th Century Italian painter Sando Botticello. Before he's through, Mark Manship of the Met has to deal with a slasher (of people as well as paintings), a fascist lunatic and a beautiful descendant of the painter's mistress and chief model. If you can't get to Venice or Florence in the months ahead, take this richly-detailed and very scary tour instead. From Publishers WeeklyAfter a brief foray into futuristic science fiction (Sandman, Sleep, 1993), Lieberman returns to his forte of mordant, contemporary crime chillers (Shadow Dancers, etc.), this one set in the world of high art. To commemorate the 550th birthday of Botticelli, Mark Manship, curator of Renaissance painting at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, is assembling a major retrospective that could catapult him into the position of museum director. In Europe to track down three drawings for the show, Manship meets the eponymous Isobel Cattaneo, a direct descendant of Botticelli's famed model and mistress, Simonetta. Meanwhile, in a parallel plot line, a neo-fascist Italian count, Ludovico Borghini, determined to preserve his country's heritage, is planning to prevent the transfer of the drawings, which he has stolen, to the States. When Borghini suspects Isobel of interfering with his plans, he kidnaps her, leading to the sort of grim and tense scenario that Lieberman does so well, and to a violent conclusion back in the States. Lieberman writes an elegant sentence, as always, and his art-world detailing, especially of maneuverings and backstabbings, seems splendidly on target. He miscalculates, though, in casting Borghini not just as a rabid patriot but as a serial killer; this count's passion is to create life-size dioramas based on Botticelli paintings, using human victims as models in the tableaus. It's a turn that stretches credibility, although it does lend the narrative Lieberman's characteristic dark hues, which readers will find in abundance in this literate, acidic thriller. Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Terror rises from the dank gutters and alleyways of New York City as an abhorrent series of savage murders goes unsolved. Police lieutenant Frank Mooney suspects there are two killers of shadow-like similarity, and soon he is trapped in a gruesome triangle of spiraling terror and consummate evil.

Winner of the 1977 Grand Prix de Littérature Policière's International Prize!From the back coverA MAN AMONG THE DEAD...After forty years as the brilliant and esteemed Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Paul Konig thought that he could face anything—even the eroding of his own life. The death of his wife, then the disappearance of his daughter, left him cynical and embittered. But nothing had prepared him for the incredible grotesque events that were to entrap him in a nightmare that made even the reviewers gasp!"Absolutely fascinating... strong graphic stuff... totally convincing and absorbing"—The Washington Post"Brutal, morbidly fascinating"—Playboy"Gruesome and harrowing... I became afraid—literally afraid—to turn the page!"—Christopher Lehman-Haupt, The New York Times"Brutal and uncompromising!"—San Francisco Examiner-Chronicle"Thoroughly engrossing... one of the best storytellers around"—Chicago News"The toughest, most harrowing, most gruesome novel in a long, long, time"—Publishers Weekly"The chiller of the season!"—Philadelphia InquirerKirkus ReviewsCity of the Dead is a much more mephitic and enclosed Crawlspace (1971); it's the New York City morgue where for 40 years Paul Konig, a great pathologist, has presided with highhanded dedication and self-destruction, refusing to concede to "death and assafetida. Formalin and fright." Hitting everything hard including the bottle in between Valiums, he sounds just like George C. Scott. "Shit work. I clean up after the goddamn party," making enemies instead of money. Now there are all kinds of problems on the tables, under the knife, including his own butt. The Mayor is out to shaft him with the help of one of Konig's ambitious men--was the suicide in the tombs really a murder, committed by one of the guards? In any case it led to sloppy forensic work--not Konig's. And how about the just revealed sideline of another department regular--the sale of unclaimed bodies? But there's worse to follow--the two bodies dredged up in various stages of mutilation, disarticulation and putrefaction to be put together--"like Humpty Dumpty." Enough? by no means--the real and most terrible half of Konig's story concerns his daughter Lolly who disappeared five months earlier into the hands of a militant group. Now there are susurrant, anonymous phone calls while a city detective tries to find her before she's returned in a canvas bag.... Lieberman's book is as obviously hard to take as it is to leave alone--but then if you can't stand the stench, stay out of the kitchen. It has a massive amount of authoritative detail--down to the last tache noire of the pupil of the eye which is about to be closed for good. If you flinch, well remember Wambaugh: Lieberman is a much sharper writer and his novel has all its buttons which in this case means vital signs.