“A few years ago we’d not have had half as many guys on the murder of a working girl.”

When Borlú first encounters Geary’s body, he and the other male detectives mistakenly assume she’s a sex worker, and it takes Corwi’s female perspective to point out the subtle clues they’ve missed. Borlú’s observation that the murder of a sex worker garners more resources than it once did speaks to the devaluation of these women because of the work they do. Corwi admits, “We’ve come a long way” (10), although not far enough to correct lazy assumptions, apparently.

“You should be glad they don’t know their rights better, because if they did Naustin’d be facing charges now.”

One of the features of detective fiction—especially noir detective fiction—is the tendency of law enforcement to circumvent procedures and ignore civil rights. China Miéville incorporates this trope as Besźel’s Extreme Crime Squad interrogates potential suspects—in this case, easily intimidated teenagers—with violence. The jocular tone of the officer further suggests that such tactics are standard, that the ends justify the means in a criminal investigation.

“Corwi did not try to disguise her police clothes because that way those who saw us, who might otherwise think we were there to entrap them, would know that was not our intent; and the fact that we were not in a bruise as we called the black and white police cars, told them that neither were we there to harass them. Intricate contracts!”

Borlú and Corwi, experienced beat cops, understand the subtle psychological codes of the street—how to gain trust, the assumptions suspects make of the police. Intimidation is not always the best way to gain information, and in this case, they make no attempt to disguise their identity as police officers because being upfront gets the relationship started on an honest note and helps to ensure trust.