The teacher was standing at the door, waiting for him.
J.J. hesitated. For a moment it seemed to him that there was no way he could set foot inside that school again. Then the solution came to him.
The teacher closed the door behind him. "What do you think you were doing, standing out there like a lemon?"
"Sorry," said J.J. "I didn't realize you were talking to me."
"Who else would I be talking to?"
"My name's Byrne," said J.J. "My mother's name is Liddy all right, but my father's name is Byrne. I'm J.J. Byrne."
The foregoing is excerpted from The New Policeman by Kate Thompson. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission from HarperCollins Publishers, 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022
Blood at the Root
"A gripping, timely, and important examination of American racism."
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