Bodily Harm

A Novel

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NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR ROBERT DUGONI RETURNS WITH HIS MOST EXHILARATING THRILLER TO DATE, A PULSE-POUNDING STORY OF CORPORATE GREED, ESPIONAGE, AND THE LENGTHS ONE MAN IS WILLING TO GO FOR JUSTICE.

Bodily Harm opens with a big win for David Sloane and his new partner, Tom Pendergrass, in a malpractice case centered on the death of a young child. But on the heels of this seeming victory, an unlikely character—toy designer Kyle Horgan— comes forward to tell Sloane that he’s gotten it all wrong: Horgan’s the one who’s truly responsible for the little boy’s death and possibly others—not the pediatrician Sloane has just proven guilty.

Ordinarily, Sloane might have dismissed such a person as a crackpot, but something about this case has always troubled him—something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. When Sloane tries to follow up with Horgan, he finds the man’s apartment a shambles— ransacked by unknown perpetrators. Horgan has vanished without a trace. Together with his longtime investigative partner Charles Jenkins, Sloane reexamines his clients’ son’s death and digs deeper into Horgan’s claims, forcing him to enter the billion-dollar, cutthroat toy industry. As Sloane gets closer to the truth, he trips a wire that leads to a shocking chain of events that nearly destroys him.

To get to the bottom of it all and find justice for the families harmed, Sloane must keep in check his overwhelming desire for revenge. Full of nail-bitingly tense action scenes as well as edge-of-your-seat courtroom drama, Bodily Harm finds Robert Dugoni at the very top of his game.
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  • Touchstone | 
  • 384 pages | 
  • ISBN 9781439100615 | 
  • May 2010
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Novelist Rober Dugoni chats about BODILY HARM

Attorney David Sloane is back seeking vengeance for the death of a young boy, from New York Times bestselling author Robert Dugoni.

Read an Excerpt

PROLOGUE

GUANGZHOU, CHINA

It hurt to blink.

The light stabbed at his eyes, shooting daggers of pain to the back of his skull. When he shut them an aurora of black and white spots lingered.

Albert Payne had never been one to partake liberally in alcohol; not that he was a complete teetotaler either. He’d been hungover a handful of times during his fifty-six years, but those few occasions had been the result of unintended excess, never a deliberate intent to get drunk. So although he had little experience with which to compare it, his pounding head seemed a clear indicator that he had indeed drunk to... see more

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