The author is Bill Fitzhugh, and he has written other books. I used the advanced search in B&N and put in the two keywords "exterminator" and "hitman" and it popped right up.

Kath, I wasn't familiar with Mackellar's poem, thanks for posting it. UK book titles are the same as the Australian ones. Downunder is still a a recognised term for Australia here though I don't suppose they call England 'Upover' anymore than they used to refer to us as home. BTW I felt that Downunder was rather thin on substance. I don't think BB had spent long enough there. I never realised that A Town Like Alice had an American title. I remember when I first heard the book mentioned, as a child, it sounded 'unusual' but can't see why US readers seem not to be expected (by editors/movie folk) to be capable of dealing with the occasional oddity. Whatever the title I think it is still a cracking read. On the Beach is another one with a most unusual 'plot' that works surprisingly well . . . for a story dealing with nuclear fall-out. re Fuller's book. I think the title is Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight which has been well-recommended over here. I haven't read it but usually the expression 'going to the dogs' or if you are from London 'going down the dogs' means spending the evening at the local 'dog track' ie greyhound racing. I think the book is set in Rhodesia and I have no idea if there were any 'dog tracks' or if white people would have been seen there. 'Going to the Dogs' also means a deterioration in ones circumstances/business/way of life. Mary does any of the above appear in the book?

Eureka!! I found the information! From an obit. in the Washington Post June 4, 2011 "Harry Bernstein, memoirist who wrote of childhood of deprivation, dies at 101 Harry Bernstein, who caused a literary sensation when he emerged from anonymity in his 90s to write two devastating memoirs that explored his childhood of squalor, abuse and anti-Semitism, died June 3 at his daughter's home in Brooklyn, N.Y. He was 101. The cause of death was not reported. "The Invisible Wall" drew favorable comparisons to Frank McCourt�s Pulitzer Prize-winning "Angela�s Ashes," about that author's hardscrabble upbringing in Ireland. Reviewing "The Invisible Wall" in the New York Times, William Grimes called it "a world of pain and prejudice, evoked in spare, restrained prose that brilliantly illuminates a time, a place and a family struggling valiantly to beat impossible odds." In "The Dream," Mr. Bernstein's follow-up memoir, he traced his family's move to Chicago in 1922. In reviews, critics described Mr. Bernstein as a storyteller of quiet, heartbreaking power. Author Juliet Wittman, writing in The Washington Post, said of "The Dream" that "beneath the poignant descriptions of places and times past, beneath the rising and falling patterns of these characters' lives, we hear at Wordsworth called "the still sad music of humanity." For much of his life, Mr. Bernstein's writing career was steady but unremarkable. He critiqued and summarized manuscripts for film studios in the 1930s and 1940s once giving thumbs down to Margaret Mitchell's "Gone With the Wind" as "just another historical romance." Later, he edited trade magazines and continued to publish articles and short stories. In 1981, he wrote a novel, "The Smile," about a fashion model. It received little attention, although he joked that he knew it sold at least one copy because of a letter he received from a reader. When his memoirs were published, Mr. Bernstein faced some skepticism from critics who said he could not possibly recall entire conversations from his childhood. He insisted he did, as they had been seared into his brain with photographic clarity. As much as he tried to forget the past, Mr. Bernstein did not extinguish the burning hatred he said that he felt for his father, who made his mother's harsh life even worse. She died at 65 of malnutrition in an unheated tenement in the Bronx, N.Y. After her funeral, he never saw his father again. "He wept when she died. That's the only good thing I can say about him," Mr. Bernstein told USA Today. He dedicated "The Invisible Wall" to his mother, "who gave us so much and received so little. Can this book make up for it? Can anything?" � The Washington Post Company

I recall something similar in a childrens tv show called "The Friendly Giant" that my children used to watch. Or perhaps "Mr. Dressup"? Bob