There are apartment buildings in New York that function like small towns. Towns some people live in all their lives while others cannot wait to get out. Developers see opportunity, and so do the criminals.
The Committee is set in such a building. It is claustrophobic and broken and makes its mark on the people who pass through it. The setting, like any, is a reflection of its inhabitants. Its atmosphere shapes them, and its walls narrow their perspective until they cannot see past.
The building itself has a history like any character. It has been burned and flooded, and the old-timers like to sit around and remember the interesting bits: the gambling, the gangs, the fights.
Newcomers like to learn the stories but become impatient once they know them. The newcomers do not need to relive the tales over and over. They want to have other things to do, important problems to solve, a murderer to catch. They want to make their own stories.
The old-timers are different. Some worry, but it is almost so that they have something to do. The newcomers can see this future ahead of them, and their fear sets them against each other. Where they are, they realize, is a place they are not ready to be yet. The building is a destination. It is a place to die.
The crisis for all the characters starts with the building. It is a tool in some's hands, and others must react to it. The building claims the first life. From the beginning it is wielded against its tenants.
But even with warnings of the trouble ahead, no one wants to leave. No one wants to be forced. Each individual wants to make a choice and demonstrate some measure of power. The question to be answered is do they have what it takes to fight for it.
The Committee is a novel of murder, deceit, and greed in New York City.
“A cocktail of noir and classic mystery with a cast that sticks in your head. You'll look over your shoulder for days.” —Des Hammond, Creative Loathing
“A world of palpable mistrust and paranoia, a world of flawed and forgotten souls drawn from the greats. The streets are the ones you have walked down, the people are those you have passed, and Mooney shows you how they live.” —Alex Friedman, editor of Shot in San Francisco