Naturally, not being blessed with Mr Sherlock's level of experience in the posh end of the motor trade, I decided to pay a quick visit to my local Saab dealer - in a not-so-sleazy part of London. After all, surely those politically correct Swedes would be the first to clean up their act?
But what, to my bewilderment, should I find adorning the walls of the customer service desk of this firm's parts department but a beautifully well exposed colour photograph depicting of a row of young ladies, each of them showing off their, er, parts. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Let's just hope that this particular dealership doesn't have any modern apprentices on its books.