The article Coleridge had read was a profile of Geraldine Hennessy, the celebrated producer behind House Arrest.

“We’re not BBC TV,” Geraldine, known to the press as Geraldine the Gaoler, was quoted as saying. “We’re BPC TV: Bold, Provocative, Controversial, and allowing the world a window into Garry’s casual, unconscious racism is just that.”

Coleridge sighed. Provocative? Controversial? What sort of ambitions were those for a grown-up woman? He turned his attention to the man sitting opposite Garry, the one on the orange couch: flashy Jasper, known as Jazz, so cool, so hip, such strutting self-confidence, always grinning, except when he was sneering, which he was doing now.

“That’s it, mate,” Garry continued, “no skill, no finesse, no planning. The entire national game based on the strategy of the lucky break.” Once more he rearranged his genitals, the shape of which could clearly be made out beneath the lime-green satin of his sports shorts. The camera moved in closer. Peeping Tom clearly liked genitals; presumably they were BPC.

“Don’t get me wrong about saying the big bloke’s black, Jazz,” Garry added. “Fact is, most League strikers are these days.”

Jazz fixed Garry with a gaze he clearly believed was both enigmatic and intimidating. Jazz’s body was even better than Garry’s and he too kept his muscles in a pretty continuous state of tension. They seemed almost to ripple up and down his arms as he idly fondled the thick gold chain that hung round his neck and lay heavy on his beautiful honed chest. “Gorilla.”

“What?”

“You didn’t say ‘bloke’, you said ‘gorilla’.”

“Did I? Well, what I mean is gorillas are big and strong, ain’t they? Like your lot.”

Over by the kitchen units Layla, the blonde hippie supermodel in her own mind, tossed her fabulous beaded braids in disgust. Inspector Coleridge knew that Layla had tossed her lovely hair in disgust, because the video edit he was watching had cut abruptly to her. There was no way that Peeping Tom was going to miss that snooty little middle-class sneer. Coleridge was quickly coming to realize that Peeping Tom’s editorial position was firmly anti intellectual pretension.