Also this one guy called Dave who just works HR for a mid-sized insurance firm. He has a cat named Nigel and a passion for growing rare bonsai trees. He's pleasant, if a trifle bland. He goes on walking holidays in the countryside when he can get time off work. Nobody in the building thinks twice about Dave, though many of the hardbitten detectives whose hearts have been broken by too many dames to count will tear people into bite-sized chunks if they so much as look funny at Nigel.

Of course, this being That Sort Of Show, they needn't bother, as Dave is almost certainly a part-time criminal mastermind for hire by the white-collar heist planners of several galactic sectors. It's not really his calling in life, that'd be the bonsai trees, but it keeps him mentally stimulated and it's bought a nice house for his dear old mum, so he can't really complain.

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"She's old, she's lame, she's barren too, // "She's not worth feed or hay, // "But I'll give her this," - he blew smoke at me - // "She was something in her day." -- Garnet Rogers, Small Victory

FiMFiction.net: we might accept blatant porn involving the cast of My Little Pony but as God is my witness we have standards.

This also being The Other Sort Of Show, Dave is often the anonymous tip that leads to a breakthrough in the case, or has bland, unthreatening conversations that lead to a light-bulb moment for the detectives in the building. He just can't help himself sometimes.