Step into the trench coat of Max Mercer, a private detective with a hair trigger and no patience for loud neckties, overly enthusiastic soup slurps, or librarians who take their shushing a little too seriously. In Merciless, Raymond White crafts a scathing, side-eyed homage to noir fiction—and then shoots it in the face.
When a mysterious woman strolls into Mercer’s grimy office with perfume and a missing opera-singing canary, it kicks off a chain of events involving jealous bird collectors, crypto secrets, high society conspiracies, and at least one murder over prosciutto-wrapped melon.
This isn’t your grandfather’s detective novel. It’s a bullet-riddled fever dream where justice is measured in spent casings and style crimes are punishable by death. Whether you’re outraged or awestruck, you won’t be able to look away.