You wouldn’t imagine that a thriller could be set in the Library of Congress. Yet here it is — Mr. Jefferson’s Library — full of coded messages, secret tunnels, murders, suicides, femme fatales, and international intrigue stretching back to FDR.

It’s a thriller, but it’s also something else — a human story, about ego, self-delusion, lying, backstabbing, and plausible deniability. That is to say, it’s a story about Washington, DC. There’s sex, lies, and videotape. Continue reading Mr. Jefferson’s Library →