The title made me curious, the beginning captivated me instantly, and so I plunged in and was not disappointed, quite the opposite. It is a matter-of-fact case story with very recognisable lads and the usual ep-like banter. And as the case develops, the affection for each other grows, beautifully worked out by the author in tender, understated little scenes.
The door to the rest room swung open with an exaggerated creak. The sound set Bodie's teeth on edge and made him think, inanely, of sharp, wooden stakes-and how they might be used to eliminate anyone who would intrude upon him at this moment. Through eyes slitted thinly enough to bely sleep, he noted that it was Murphy who had come in, and subterfuge was not necessary: Murphy had not seen him, nor was he likely to, slumped as Bodie was in the corner behind the support pillar, head propped against the wall, torso shielded by the back of a molded-plastic chair, legs stretched out across the lap of another, and the entire lower half of his body hidden by the much-used, and much-battered table he had chosen to commandeer as his own.
Intent upon remaining unnoticed, Bodie took in a deep, silent breath, folded his arms more comfortably across his chest, and beckoned sleep once more. From the opposite end of the room soft noises indicated that Murphy had coaxed a beverage out of the vending machine. There came the scrape of a stirring straw colliding with polystyrene; the drone of Murphy humming agreeably, if tunelessly, to himself: these but minor distractions undemanding of Bodie's attention. No sooner had he begun to drift pleasantly free of his surroundings than the complaint of unoiled hinges rent the quiet again. Shooting a searing glance at the door, Bodie was instantly mollified when Ray Doyle sauntered into the room.
Doyle spied him at once, despite his jerry-built concealment. Although he neither said nor did anything that would betray his partner, Doyle's green eyes lit with cynical amusement. Good-naturedly, Bodie grimaced back.