“Yeah, I know.” Gurney nodded sympathetically. “That was a better time—a much better time, in my humble opinion. When did you get out?”

“When do you think?”

“Tell me.”

“When they got heavy into all that diversity bullshit. Diversity. Can you believe it? Couldn’t get promoted unless you were a Nigerian lesbian with a Navajo grandmother. Time for the smart white guys to get the hell out. Goddamn shame what this country is turning into. Goddamn joke is what it is. America. That’s a word that used to mean something. Pride. Strength. What is it now? Tell me. What is it now?”

Gurney shook his head sadly. “I’ll tell you what it’s not. It’s not what it used to be.”

“I’ll tell you what it is. Affirmative fucking action. That’s what it is. Welfare bullshit. Dope addicts, pill addicts, coke addicts, crack addicts. And you want to know why? I’ll tell you why. Affirmative fucking action.”

Gurney grunted, hoping to convey morose agreement. “Looks to me like some of the people in this building might be part of the problem.”

“You got that right.”

“You got a hell of a tough job here, Mr.… Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“McGrath. Frank McGrath.”

Gurney stepped toward him, put his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Frank. What precinct were you assigned to?”

They shook hands.

“Fort Apache. The one they made the movie about.”

“Tough neighborhood.”

“It was fucking nuts. Nobody would believe how fucking nuts it was. But that was nothing compared to the diversity bullshit. Fort Apache I could take. For a two-month period back in the eighties I remember we were averaging a murder a day. One day we had five. It was us against them. But once that diversity bullshit started, there was no more us. Department turned into a muddled-up bunch of crap. You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, Frank, I know exactly what you’re saying.”

“Crying goddamn shame.”

Gurney looked around the little hallway where they were standing. “So what are you supposed to do here?”

“Do? Nothing. Not a fucking thing. Ain’t that a fucker?”

A door on the floor above them opened, and the hip-hop racket tripled in volume. The door slammed, and it dropped back down.

“Shit, Frank, how do you stand it?”

The man shrugged. “Money’s okay. I make my own schedule. No lezzy bitch looking over my shoulder.”

“You had one of them on the job?”

“Yeah. Captain Pussy-Licker.”

Gurney forced out a loud laugh. “Working for Jonah must be a big improvement.”

“It’s different.” He paused. “You said you wanted to get into that apartment. You mind telling me what—”

Gurney’s phone rang, stopping the man in midsentence.