This time I don’t give a sod where I park the stupid car. I’m hungry and tired and I have to spend the next fourteen hours cooped up indoors in case the stupid sun turns me into a pile of smoking ash. I am definitely not happy.O’Shea was right about the emptiness of the shop. The window display which I’d previously admired has completely vanished. All that remains are the silk drapes. I note that the wood around the Yale lock is splintered. I roll my eyes ‒ O’Shea’s doing, no doubt. I’m sure that if he’d tried harder, he could have found a way inside that didn’t involve battering down the door. Still, I take advantage of his efforts and enter from the front seeing as the door is now open. This time no alarm announces my presence.All that remains inside are bare shelves. The shop was jam-packed with items last week. It doesn’t look like the shop owner had to leave in a hurry in some kind of sudden midnight flit; this was planned. My suspicions are confirmed when feel something sticky underfoot.
