The hell was it with kids, Mace wondered, that they did so much reading? He stretched out, his head against Oumou’s thigh, his bare feet nudging at his daughter, irritating her. Christa smacked at his ankles, not breaking her concentration, not using any force, more as if she were brushing off an...
‘Apart from mine, one other set of prints.’ ‘We could do a door to door.’ ‘We could.’ ‘But what’s in it?’ ‘Nothing really. Somebody may get a lost iPod back.’ ‘Exactly. And if somebody’s lost it they’ve probably bought another one already. Claimed on insurance.’ ‘So why bother?’ ‘Other hand, the ...