He put the car in park but left it running. There was a rusted basketball backboard but the rim was long gone. There were a couple of dumpsters coated with decades of graffiti slogans. Washington pulled into a lot next to one of the buildings. At the moment, I was trying to figure out what Washington was trying to tell me by taking me here. I had just assumed he was white and it was an assumption I would have to analyze later. There was no photo in the computer printouts and no reason to mention race in the stories. I realized that I never considered that Brooks might be a black man. ‘And that’s only if the elevators were working,’ he added. Me and John used to say it was the only time when you had to take the elevator up when you were going to hell.’ I just nodded. First of just surviving in such a place, next of surviving and then becoming a cop.
“John Brooks.’ Immediately, I thought of the odds.
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