" smudged with black powder. Every mirror, every painting, had been taken down from the walls. Even the benign and wise Charlie Clapper was disgusted: “The Baileys had a lot of friends and a lot of parties. We’ve got enough prints and trace to short out the crime lab. For a year.” Conklin said, “How about it, Sarge?” “Okay. We’re done.” We turned out the lights as "

― James Patterson , The 8th Confession (Women's Murder Club, #8)