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Every cop has a personal 'White': a criminal who got away with murder - or worse - and was able to slip back into life, leaving the victim's family still seeking justice, the cop plagued by guilt. Back in the 1990s, Billy Graves was one of the Wild Geese: a tight-knit crew of young mavericks, fresh to police work and hungry for justice, looking out for each other and their 'family' of neighbourhood locals. But then Billy made some bad headlines by accidentally shooting a ten-year-old boy while bringing down an angel-dusted berserker in the street. Branded a loose cannon, he spent years in one dead-end posting after another. Now he has settled into his role as sergeant in the Night Watch, content simply to do his job and go home to his family. But when he is called to the 4 a.m. stabbing of a man in Penn Station, Billy discovers the victim is the 'White' of one of his oldest friends, a former member of the Wild Geese, who is now retired. As the past comes crashing into the present, the Wild Geese seemingly rise from the dead, and the bad old run-and-gun days of the 90s are back with a vengeance. Richard Price, writing for the first time under the pen-name of Harry Brandt, is one of America's most gifted novelists. He has always written brilliantly about New York City, and this electrifying novel - fast-moving and stripped to the bone - marks a heart-stopping new departure.
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Whether you call it a crime novel or a mystery novel or a giraffe with polka dots, is largely irrelevant - The Whites is, simply put, a great American novel Dennis Lehane
