“Fine.” Decker threw up his hands. “You get it. End of discussion.”

Tyler rubbed his eyes. “It’s been a long night. And it looks like it’s only going to get longer.”

“If you want to turn in, I can handle it from here.”

“It wasn’t a hint. For the last time, I’m here for the long run, okay?”

“You’re right. I’ll stop needling you at least for the rest of the night.”

The kid stopped walking and turned to him. “All I’m saying is try . . . just try to give me a little credit. I’ve been with upper-crust Manhattanites all my life. I know how to suck it up and how to suck up. I just choose not to do it anymore.”

When the pair arrived at Elm Hall dormitory, Decker stopped in front of the secured door. “Go talk to the administration in the morning. If you have any questions, just give me a call. With Lance Terry, I’ll do most of the talking but feel free to chime in. Like I said, your insights are pretty much on the money.”

“Thank you.” The kid started to talk but stopped himself. “Let’s go.”

Decker put a hand on his shoulder. “The image is going to bother you for a while—”

“It’s not the image, it’s the smell . . . God, I can’t get it out of my nose. It comes in waves. Truthfully, I’m still a little . . . queasy.”

“In the beginning—when I started working homicides—I carried Vicks VapoRub because it helps dilute the smell. Later on I stopped because it blocked out a very important sense, and smelling something putrid is better than not being able to smell at all. But I know what you’re saying. It takes time for the stink to exit the olfactory nerves. To this day, every time I go to the morgue, I can’t eat meat for a few days.”

“It’s okay. I’ll deal.” He bit his lip. “I know you think I’m a pussy—”

“No, that’s not what I think. You’re just trying to figure it out.” Decker smiled. “Like all of your pussy generation.”

McAdams laughed. “You got that right, Old Man.” A pause. “Did your foster son get into Harvard by the way?”

“Yes, he did, but he wound up at Juilliard. He could have gotten in anywhere. He’s exceptional but that’s not what makes him a great kid.” Decker pointed to his chest. “He’s got heart.”

“Yeah, I’m not known for my warm and fuzzy cardiac muscle, but that’s to be expected. Genes are genes. And if you ever meet my father, you’ll know what I mean.”

THERE WAS A wall of sound in all directions, so when Decker knocked on the door, he didn’t hear anything until a voice was shouting at him.

“Fuck off!”