Hunter let go of JJ who started dusting his jacket with both hands. ‘Look at what you’ve done to my suit man, these things don’t come cheap you know.’ Garcia checked his pocket change. ‘Here.’ He extended his hand towards JJ. ‘A dollar ninety-five. Go buy another one.

Fuck you! Someone has tortured and killed one of your girls and you couldn’t give a damn? I thought you were supposed to protect them, to be their guardian. Isn’t that what pimps do?’ Garcia’s face flared red.

What makes you think I’d know this woman?’ Hunter knew what he was trying to do. ‘Listen, P-Diddy . . .’ ‘D-King . . .’ ‘Whatever.

He’s my new partner JJ and I don’t think he likes you very much. Last guy he took a dislike to still can’t eat anything more solid than yogurt.’ ‘Can’t you keep him on a leash?’ ‘Sure I can. The leash is in the car. I’ll go get it. You guys will be OK by yourselves for ten minutes or so, right?

We’ve got DNA tests; we can convict someone by his saliva. Hell, if the killer had farted in that house the forensic team would probably have some gadget that could pick it up. How can the crime scenes be so clean?