Attila Ambrus was a gentleman thief, a sort of Cary Grant — if only Grant came from Transylvania, was a terrible professional hockey goalkeeper, and preferred women in leopard-skin hot pants. During the 1990s, while playing for the biggest hockey team in Budapest, Ambrus took up bank robbery to make ends meet. His opponents: a police chief who learned how to be a detective via dubbed episodes of Columbo; a deputy so dense he was known only by his Hungarian nickname, Mound of Asshead; and a forensics expert-cum-ballet teacher who wore a top hat and tails on the job.
Part Pink Panther, part The Unbearable Lightness of Being, part Slap Shot, this uproariously funny, award-winning book tells the remarkable story of a crime spree that galvanized a forlorn nation and made a nobody into a somebody — a tale so outrageous that it could only be true.
--WINNER, Borders 2004 "Original Voices" Non-fiction Book of the Year.
--FINALIST, 2005 Edgar Award, Best Fact Crime.
--A New York Times "Editors' Choice"
