CAMDEN, N.J. -- In an office in a sleepy town in southern New Jersey, Harry Glemser's phone rang. With no buxom secretary to take a message, he answered it himself.
It was a dame, looking to hire a private eye.
But this was no scene from a noir novel. The woman was calling because someone in a car kept lurking in her driveway, the engine running, when her husband wasn't home. She'd called the police, but they couldn't help. She hoped Glemser could.
Detectives like Glemser across cash-strapped states have been getting more calls like these as cities and towns cut their police forces to contend with deep budget cuts. New Jersey alone lost 4,200 officers from 2008 to 2011, according to the Policemen's Benevolent Assn., which tracks the state's most recent data. As police focus more on responding to crime rather than preventing it, private detectives and security firms are often taking on the roles that police once did, investigating robberies, checking out alibis, looking into threats.
"The public is frustrated by the police," said Glemser, a retired cop of 63 whose gold chains, white hair and bulky body might make a stranger worry he's on the wrong side of the law. "The citizenry is quick to say that the police don't do anything for them. They should be saying the police can't do anything for them because of this budgetary issue, this manpower problem, this directive we have that came down from the chief."
Private detectives are just one piece of the private sector security and policing services that people are increasingly turning to as they worry about crime. The U.S. private security industry is expected to grow 6.3% a year to $19.9 billion by 2016, according to a study by security research group Freedonia Group Inc. Even some in the public sector are trying to tap into the industry to save money; one Tennessee power department laid off security officers last year and replaced them with security technology and private contractors.
In California, where many cash-strapped cities cut police budgets during the recession, residents are turning to detectives, security firms and even the Internet.
After police cuts in Oakland, resident Dabney Lawless encouraged 400 neighbors to sign up on a website so they could send alerts to one another when they noticed suspicious people around; she also pays extra to an alarm company to drive through the neighborhood. Ron Cancio, the manager of a Stockton security firm, said that since the city's budget battles, residents often have called his firm for minor complaints, because they know he'll respond more quickly than the police.
Of course, not everyone can afford private police help.
Roger Arrella, the owner of TSInvestigations in Corona, said he's getting a lot more calls from people who say police won't help them in investigating burglaries, suspicious suicides or identity theft. But once they hear his rates, which are around $150 an hour, they usually balk.
"We get the phone calls -- people are upset that someone broke into their house, or stole their car, and the police aren't doing what they should be doing," he said. "But then you tell them the price, and they say, well, maybe it's not worth it to me."
It's another facet of how income inequality is playing out in America -- as cities are forced to cut their budgets, even police protection is more accessible to those with cash.
"Wealthy neighborhoods are buying themselves more police protection than poor neighborhoods," said Samuel Walker, emeritus professor of criminal justice at the University of Nebraska at Omaha and the author of 13 books on policing.
Latch Raghu, for instance, hired a private eye after his 1986 Buick Grand Regal National, worth $100,000, was stolen in Belleville, N.J. Though police had access to street cameras and Raghu had some ideas as to who might have stolen it, he couldn't get the case moving. Raghu hired Joseph Blaettler, an ex-cop who runs East Coast Private Investigations of New Jersey.