‘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 cops might’ve picked up the fingerprints inside.’ ‘Except they’ve closed the case.’ ‘And even if there was a match all you can say is the killer liked some heartbreak music.’ Mace got up from the couch and stretched. ‘I should’ve done a beach swim, if it wasn’t for the wind. Now I need coffee.’ ‘Tami can make it.’ Mace turned at the doorway. ‘She’s not here to get us coffees.’ ‘I made for her yesterday.’ ‘Big deal.’ The two men stared at one another, Pylon conceding defeat. ‘Mlungu liberal bullshit. This sort of attitude’s destroying our culture.’ He came round his desk still swinging the iPod, his mind moved on to the Popo Dlamini case.
