“mouth was greasy. Not that DI Hogarth would have thought twice about snaffling a quick Kung Po washed down with his favourite whisky before a job, but Sue Palmer was a woman and whatever the blokes said, it was different. At least Hogarth wasn’t one of the PC brigade who said there was no glass ceiling. Hogarth was a dark realist with a cynical sense of humour. Lately Palmer had almost gotten used to Hogarth’s unintended sexism. It had almost become amusing. And under Hogarth’s rough, rotten exterior, she had found a sliver of charm which made her wonder about the distant possibilities… maybe if she was”