Page 134 of In Too Deep
“Course we do.”
“I’d like to see it.”
Davo’s jaw tightened. “You’ll need permission for that.”
“I’m asking you for it.”
“No.”
Harrison held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “CCTV?”
“Cameras don’t cover half the bloody place.”
“Do they cover the gate?”
“When they’re working.”
“Were they working that weekend?”
“Wouldn’t know.”
“We’ll need the footage.”
“Get a warrant.”
Harrison almost smiled at that. Then, “Gate logs?”
Davo scoffed. “It’s a scrapyard, not Buckingham fucking Palace.”
“Of course.”
Harrison wandered over to the grimy window overlooking the yard. Stacks of scrap rose behind the fencing. Shipping containers sat in uneven rows. Beyond them, the hydraulic crusher stood silent beneath the relentless morning sun.
Places where things could vanish.
Where people learned not to ask questions.
Harrison angled his head. “Who has access after hours?”
“Me.”
“Anyone else?”
“Couple of mechanics.”
“Names?”
“You want their names, go ask ’em.”
“Thanks. I will.”
Harrison moved closer to the window. From there he could see beyond the main stacks of scrap to a separate lock-up tucked against the rear boundary. Larger doors. Cleaner metal than most of the surrounding structures. A newer padlock catching the sunlight.
No vehicles around it. No mechanics either.
He angled his head at it. “That part of the business?”
“Storage.”
