Evidence [antikvár]

CHAPTER 1 I tell the truth. They lie. I'm strong. They're lueak. I'm good. They're had. This was a zero job but Doyle was getting paid. Why anyone would shell out fifteen bucks an hour, three hours a day, five times a week, to check out the empty shell of a rich-idiot monster-house was something he'd never get. The look-see took fifteen minutes. J/he walked slow. Rest of the time, Doyle sat around, ate his lunch, listened to Cheap Trick on his Walkman. Thinking about being a real cop if his knee hadn't screwed up. The company said go there, he went. Disability all run out, he swallowed part-time, no benefits. Paying to launder his own uniform.