Bajo la atenta mirada del sargento de policía apodado el Oráculo, los agentes de «la comisaría Hollywood» se enfrentan con su rutina habitual. Entre días en los coches de patrulla y noches en las entrañas de una ciudad que nunca duerme, este grupo de policías ve la urbe del glamour en su cruda realidad y, a medida que pasan por tugurios de drogas y sucias esquinas, una serie de acontecimientos sin relación aparente los lleva al caso más sorprendente sucedido en «Hollywood Station» en los últimos años, y les recuerda que en Los Ángeles el horror y el extremismo no tienen límite.

He's big and brash. His beat is the underbelly of Los Angeles vice-a world of pimps, pushers, winos, whores and killers. He lives each day his way-on the razor's edge of life. He was a damn good cop and LAPD detective. For fifteen years he prowled the streets, solved murders, took his lumps. Now he's the hard hitting, tough talking best selling writer who tells the brutal, true stories of the men who risk their loves every time a siren screams.

A dead prostitute leads a gang of cops on a wild international chase In death she looks thirty-five, but Missy Moonbeam, a.k.a. Thelma Bernbaum, is only twenty-two when the cops of Rampart Division find her flattened on the sidewalk. A Nebraska farm girl, Missy came to Los Angeles to act, and died not long after her dream did. The detectives assume that her pimp threw her off a roof—but they couldn't be more wrong. Missy had a trick at Caltech whose name draws the Rampart detectives into a bizarre conspiracy. A beached Soviet sub has Europe on the brink of war, and only Rampart Division can pull the world back from disaster.   They are a motley gang. There's the Bad Czech, a certifiable psychopath whose chief pleasure is yelling at the Los Angeles Times. There's Mario Villalobos, whose midlife crisis has made him sentimental. And there's Jane Wayne, a New Wave fan, sex addict, and proudly violent cop. This case will take them all the way to Stockholm, but they won't win...

Who else but Joseph Wambaugh could write "a joy, a hoot, a riot of a book" that is also acclaimed as "one of this season's best crime novels"? That's howThe New York Times Book Review and Time, respectively, described his last novel, Finnegan's Week. Nobody writes a faster, funnier, more satisfying tale of cops and criminals, the high life and lowlifes that Wambaugh—and Floaters is his sharpest yet.Mick Fortney and his partner Leeds manage to cruise above the standard police stress-pools of coffee and Pepto-Bismol—they're water cops in the "Club Harbor Unit," manning a patrol boat on San Diego's Mission Bay. A typically rough day's detail consists of scoping out body-sculpted beauties on pleasure craft, rescuing boating bozos who've run aground, jeering at lifeguards, and hauling in the occasional floater who comes to the surface.But now their days are anything but typical, because the America's Cup international sailing regattas...

When a child's killer eludes the police, fear grips an English village In the early 1980s, Narborough was a quintessential English village with two pubs, two churches, and one terrible secret. Lynda Mann, a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl, had walked along the footpath called the Black Pad dozens of times before the night she disappeared. She was returning home from a friend's house on November twenty-first, 1983, when her killer attacked, stripped, and strangled her.   This is a meticulous account of one of the most exhaustive manhunts in English history. Even after a second girl's similar murder, Scotland Yard had no answers. As the Midlands seethed with fear that the killer would strike again, the police experimented with a new technology: DNA identification. Their attempt to avenge Lynda would change the course of police work forever.