MAYBE I watch too much “CSI: Crime Scene Investigation” that I find our own police investigators funny, to be generous with my comments. The more I watch this monster hit of a television series, the more I wish I lived in Miami, New York, or Las Vegas where forensic experts solve crimes in less time than it takes for your evening coffee to get cold.
In this show, everything in the crime scene is a valuable piece of evidence. Every particle of dust, the way the furniture has been moved, the lipstick stain on an empty cup, the way the wind blows to the east, they all say something about the guilty one. Even a burp smells of somebody’s DNA.