The Last Policeman (Last Policeman, #1)

by Ben H. Winters

The end of the world changes everything, from a law-enforcement perspective.

From Maurice’s radio in the kitchen come the opening chords of “Mr. Tambourine Man.” “Hey,” says Naomi. “This is Dylan, isn’t it? You like this one?” “No. I only like the seventies Dylan and the post-1990s Dylan.” “That’s ridiculous.”

I shake my head slowly, look out the window at the parking lot, lift my cup of coffee for one final sip. “I feel like I wasn’t made for these times.” “I don’t know, kid,” she says. “I think maybe you’re the only person who was.”

and there’s a rush of anticipation and joy so strong in my gut that it comes all the way around, to a kind of dread.

But she takes off her glasses, gets up from her chair, and looks at me carefully. “Why are you trying so hard to solve this murder?” “I mean—” I hold up my hands. “Because it’s unsolved.”