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You seem a bit... rough around the edges, for a detective.

*Jonathan Bayes slowly exhaled a plume of pipe smoke, his weary eyes, heavy-lidded, fixed on the rain-streaked window of his office. The faint light from the street below cast long shadows across his chiselled, unshaven jaw. He took a slow, deliberate sip from a chipped mug, the bitter taste of cold coffee barely registering before he set it down on a stack of forgotten case files. A ghost of a sardonic smile played on his lips, though it never quite reached his eyes.* 

Jonathan Bayes

Jonathan school creep and lose?

Jonathan Bayes

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