This is book number 14 in the Nathan Heller series.
Chicago, September 1964. Beatlemania sweeps the nation, the Vietnam War looms, and the Warren Commission prepares to blame a "lone-nut" assassin for the killing of President John F. Kennedy. But as the post-Camelot era begins, a suspicious outbreak of suicides, accidental deaths, and outright murders decimates assassination witnesses. When Nathan Heller and his son are nearly run down on a city street, the private detective wonders if he himself might be a loose end. . . .
Soon a faked suicide linked to President Johnson's corrupt cronies takes Heller to Texas, where celebrity columnist Flo Kilgore implores him to explore that growing list of dead witnesses. With the blessing of Bobby Kennedy—former US attorney general, now running for Senator from New York—Heller and Flo investigate the increasing wave of violence that seems to emanate from the notorious Mac Wallace, rumored to be LBJ's personal hatchet man.
Fifty years after JFK's tragic death, Collins's rigorous research for Ask Not raises new questions about the most controversial assassination of our time.
This edition of the book is the deluxe, tall rack mass market paperback.
“Collins has not only devised an original take on what may well be the most-written-about crime in history but also made Heller's role in the case plausible.” —Publishers Weekly on Target Lancer
“Target Lancer brings us a different, fact-based assassination scenario, eerily paralleling the Dealey Plaza nightmare.” —Kirkus Reviews on Target Lancer
“Collins spins a fascinating tale with appearances by Jack Ruby, Jimmy Hoffa, and Bobby Kennedy. Gripping from the get-go, this will satisfy both Heller fans and assassination wonks ever eager for a new spin on the story.” —Booklist on Target Lancer
“Noir meets the History Channel-Collins effortlessly weaves his historical material into a fast-moving narrative.” —Booklist on Bye Bye, Baby
“Max Allan Collins can lay claim to being the master of true-crime fiction. . . a seamless juxtaposition of narrative cunning and historical cross-referencing.” —Chicago Magazine