low hanging fruit

Littlegirlcop knew a lot of people in town. The gym where he worked out was one of those old time athletic clubs that's membership drew from most neighborhoods, professions and classes. Like, the bars he frequented, there was a great deal of friendliness and interaction which afforded Murphy access to more people than he might have if he stuck to close to school friends or station house pals. The shared common interest, sport in the case of the gym, and men in the case of the bars, seemed to open people up to social interaction they might not otherwise have out of those environment.

He had seen Walter Morgan's young associate out at the bars on several occasions. Murphy enjoyed watching a good mystery, and the young fellow at times presented one. Everything added up mostly, but his accent began to thicken with drink, and he liked to drink when his boss was out of town. He also liked to spend money, buying rounds of drinks, big bills usually, drawing attention to himself in a way the Brittish suits he wore did not.

It was a hunch, but when the young man's drink expenditures started rising, along with the attentions of the older party crowd, Littlegirlcop thought the connection might be worth looking into. It was an easy collar. A few posts to the right website, expressing interest in the correct combination of sex and drugs. Marty said it was low hanging fruit, but really they scooped the young fellow right up off the ground.