“I wish you would.” Vorpal liked Maggie. He supposed that, as a partner in Branch & Cabell, she’d agree with him, whereas he considered Gorham to be a little unreliable. He passed her a copy of the application. “I think we may have a problem with this. Jim Bandersnatch thinks so too.”

“Dr. Caruso?” said Maggie.

“I think I’d better tell you that we know this man,” said Gorham. “He delivered all three of our children. We like him.”

Vorpal’s face fell.

“Not,” said Maggie quietly, “that Gorham would let that influence him in considering Dr. Caruso’s suitability for this building.”

Gorham stared at her. This was a deliberate undermining of his position. He kept his temper, however. He must remain calm.

“So what’s the problem?” he asked.

“He lives on West End Avenue,” said Vorpal.

“He has for years. Lots of good people live on West End.”

“I’d have preferred Central Park West.”

“There are some quite exclusive buildings on West End, you know.”

“His isn’t one of them,” said Vorpal drily.

“His references look all right. Here’s one from a trustee of Mount Sinai—those are very important people. This guy Anderson’s a big hitter.”

“Yes. As a professional reference, excellent. But as a social reference, not so good.”

“Why?”

“Anderson lives in a town house. And Caruso’s other social reference comes from out of town.” Vorpal shook his head. “What we like to see is a reference from someone who lives in, and is preferably on the board of, a very good building. A building like ours. Someone who has the same fit.”

“I see.”

“I’m looking for clubs, Gorham, for people with a significant social presence in the city, for big charitable donations. And I don’t see them—I don’t see them at all. I don’t even see a country club. This application lacks …” he searched for a word, “substance.”

“I could write him a reference,” said Gorham wickedly.

Vorpal’s face suggested that, in his private estimation, that might not have been enough. But his answer was more clever.

“I find it significant that he didn’t ask you, or one of his many patients like you, to do so.”

“Anything else?” asked Master.

“There is the question of money.”

“Okay.”

“We have always been an all-cash building, of course.”

Many buildings allowed you to have a mortgage for half the price of your apartment. That wasn’t a bad idea. Financial stability was good. Lesser buildings might allow sixty or even seventy percent mortgages. By the time you got to ninety percent debt, you were really trash. But the top buildings, the ruthless enclaves, didn’t allow any debt at all. If you needed to borrow money to buy your apartment, then you didn’t belong. Go and take out a mortgage on your country house if that was the kind of thing you liked to do.