{ "item_title" : "A Gentleman and a Thief", "item_author" : [" Dean Jobb "], "item_description" : "A captivating Jazz Age true-crime caper about the greatest jewel thief who ever lived (Life Magazine), Arthur Barry, who charmed everyone from Rockefellers to members of the royal family while simultaneously planning and executing the most audacious and lucrative heists of the 1920s.A master of narrative nonfiction. In this mesmerizing tale about a Jazz Age gentlemanly thief, Jobb has found his own perfect jewel.―DAVID GRANN, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Wager and Killers of the Flower MoonAn enthrallingly propulsive, unpredictably twisty biography of one of the most fascinating criminals of the 20th Century. I was hooked from the very first heist.―MICHAEL FINKEL, New York Times bestselling author of The Art Thief and The Stranger in the Woods Catch Me If You Can meets The Great Gatsby meets the hit Netflix series Lupin in this captivating true-crime caper. A skilled con artist and perhaps one of the most charming, audacious burglars in history, Arthur Barry slipped in and out of the bedrooms of New York's wealthiest residents, even as his victims slept only inches away. He befriended luminaries such as the Prince of Wales and Harry Houdini and became a folk hero, touted in the press as the greatest jewel thief who ever lived and an Aristocrat of Crime. In a span of seven years, Barry stole diamonds, pearls, and other gems worth almost $60 million today. Among his victims were a Rockefeller, an heiress to the Woolworth department store fortune, an oil magnate, Wall Street bigwigs, a top executive of automotive giant General Motors, and a famous polo player. Dean Jobb--hailed by Esquire magazine as a master of narrative nonfiction--once again delivers a stylishly told high-speed ride. A Gentleman and a Thief is also a love story. Barry confessed to dozens of burglaries to protect his wife, Anna Blake (and was the prime suspect in scores of others). Sentenced to a twenty-five year term, he staged a dramatic prison break when Anna became seriously ill so they could be together for a few more years as fugitives. With dozens of historic images, A Gentleman and a Thief is page-turning, escapist, and sparkling with insight into our fascination with jewel heists and the suave, clever criminals who pull them off.", "item_img_path" : "https://covers4.booksamillion.com/covers/bam/1/64/375/283/1643752839_b.jpg", "price_data" : { "retail_price" : "32.50", "online_price" : "32.50", "our_price" : "32.50", "club_price" : "32.50", "savings_pct" : "0", "savings_amt" : "0.00", "club_savings_pct" : "0", "club_savings_amt" : "0.00", "discount_pct" : "10", "store_price" : "32.50" } }

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The media obsession that followed jewel thief Arthur Barry in the 1920s and ’30s looks familiar today, as true crime podcasts and TikTok “investigators” descend on the buzziest, splashiest cases, ethics and tact be damned.

The crimes of Barry, detailed in Dean Jobb’s A Gentleman and a Thief: The Daring Jewel Heists of a Jazz Age Rogue, typically did not cause too much harm (with notable exceptions). He targeted the fabulously wealthy in and around Jazz Age New York City. “Anyone who could afford to wear a $100,000 necklace could afford to lose it,” he said, predating the similar ethos of Cary Grant’s character in To Catch a Thief.  

Jobb’s book tells Barry’s full story, from his hardscrabble youth to service in World War I to the crimes that made him famous. At times, it can feel that the buildup is too thorough, too slow, but the narrative soon gets a move on. The story of Barry’s escalating crimes—from robbing normal rich bankers in the suburbs to casing literal royals ensconced in an opulent estate—followed by his inevitable downfall, is breezily told. Even after he is caught (how investigators fingered him for the crimes is not entirely clear here), the story is not over, as Barry can’t help but find the limelight again. 

Barry’s escapades have elements of our favorite fictional thieves and con men. He palled around with a future king and the Long Island set that inspired The Great Gatsby. Though he comes off as glamorous and charismatic, Barry was no Robin Hood: He stole millions of dollars’ worth of precious gems, only to quickly spend almost all of his proceeds on luxury cars, blowout nights on the town and gambling sprees. 

Too bad today’s omnipresent surveillance would make it nearly impossible to walk into the Plaza Hotel and walk out with someone’s famous jewels, and not immediately be tracked down. 

But Barry could. At least for a while.