They’re forever leaving buttons, or fibres, or scraps of paper, or footprints from very unusual shoes that have been bought by them, and only them, in the whole country. I’m not a murderer myself (yet), but even I would have a good look round after doing the deed and pick up after myself.
And while I’m here, what is it with law enforcers always insisting on being let into houses:
Law enforcer: Could we come in?
Householder: No.
Law enforcer: I’m sure you’d rather do this inside than out here.
Householder:Oh, right you are then.
And they’re never satisfied once they do get past the front door, they have to sit down as well.
What pet hates do any of you have in crime novels?