" There was blood in the sink and the bath, all photographed and swabbed by the crime-scene techs, so I didn’t have to worry too much about where I was standing or what I was touching. That didn’t necessarily mean I wanted to touch anything. I stood in the middle of the small, windowless space, smelling mildew and sour towels and wondering what I was missing. ‘What do you make of this? "
― Jane Casey , One in Custody (Maeve Kerrigan #7.5)