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“Windows being smashed, doors being forced open?” As soon as he’d said it, Oldham felt stupid. Neither of those things had happened anyway.

“No. Why?”

“We’ve been burgled.”

“Oh, Christ.” Vincent came down the steps two at a time until he reached John Oldham. “Are you okay?”

“I am.”

“Is there much missing?”

“I haven’t checked.”

“Don’t you think you ought to?”

“Give us a chance, I’ve only just got here.”

“How did they get in?”

“I’m assuming through this rear door here.” Oldham pointed.

Vincent followed the line of his finger, and then glanced at the gate that secured the small backyard to the premises.

“No locks broken.”

“I know. That’s what worries me.”

“You think someone who works here did it?”

“How else could it have happened?” said Oldham. “Anyway, you ring the police and I’ll go and check what’s missing.”

“Do you think you should?”

“I’ve no choice. Police will want to know what’s gone.”

“Yes, but he might still be in there.”

“I doubt it,” said Oldham. “He’ll be long gone now.”

“You don’t know that. And anyway, it’s a crime scene. You shouldn’t be going in there, you’ll contaminate the place.”

“Never mind all that, Vincent. It’s a bloody chemist. All sorts of dangerous stuff in here. Just get on to the police while I go and see what’s gone.”

A squad car pulled up outside the chemist within twenty minutes. During that time, John Oldham had made his checks. Most of the drugs and medicines on the shelves had been swept to the floor. None of the bottles had smashed, and the cardboard covers were not damaged. It was almost as if they had been placed on the floor, as opposed to swept.

Oldham didn’t think much was missing, but until he had time to go through his register and his computer records, he wouldn’t know for certain. The drugs cabinet, however, had been broken into, which meant the thieves had known what they were searching for.

Two young constables dressed like Robocop entered the premises. They approached the counter, all flashing lights and alien sounds – conversations going on between God knows who. Vincent crept in through the back door.

The police took down the general details: who owned the shop, who worked for him, and what part Vincent played in it all. Oldham informed them how he’d found the scene, and the fact that there were no signs of a forced entry – the last bit of jargon came courtesy of Vincent.

“Do you know what’s been taken, sir?”

“Not had much of a chance to check, yet. Doesn’t look to be a lot missing from the shop, but it’s the drugs cabinet I’m worried about.”

“Would you like to check now, sir, while we’re here?”

Oldham drew out his record book. All four present at the scene converged around the cabinet. It took him a further ten minutes consulting his inventory. When he had the answer, he felt weak inside.

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