As my regulars know, I love an old-fashioned whodunnit. I’m still grieving over the loss of Vera. I’ll get over it eventually, as the pain fades with time. Besides, I can always rekindle my ardour by watching the repeats on a loop. My fondness for crime shows may stem from my brief but passionate dalliance with a cute detective sergeant from Greater Manchester Police many moons ago. Our eyes met across a smoky gay bar on Gran Canaria. But that’s another story.
However, one must-have aspect of a murder mystery has always baffled me. Those mugshots pinned to the incident board. Where the hell do the bobbies in blue get them from? It’s not like the prime suspect is likely to pop their best swipe right pic in the post with a note attached saying It’s a fair cop, guv’nor. It’s the biggest mystery of all.
