Framed

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Countless times over the years Larry had tried to convince his wife — and himself — that he was a policeman only during the hours of duty. Susan didn’t believe that for a minute, but he offered proof and stood by it: his leisure interests were completely unconnected with the job, he didn’t spend his.

But when he was candid with himself, he knew no leisure regime could change what he fundamentally was. And right this very minute it had dawned on him that a certain old chestnut was true: there is no such thing as an off-duty cop. On the strength of his discovery he was prepared to give in and confess he was a copper in toto. He was Detective Sergeant Lawrence Jackson right down to the bone.

The facts spoke for themselves. He was in Marbella on the Costa del Sol at the height of the summer season; it was a blistering hot day, he was on a sun-zapped beach, there were beautiful women all around him, and what was he doing? He was lying behind his paperback playing detective with the smells.

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