He sat on the cement blocks and waited. And waited. Did this guy ever go out for groceries? Hit the drive-through for a Big Mac and fries? Go to the lumber store for more shelving?

And damned if Harry hadn’t forgotten to pick himself up a sandwich before embarking on this mission. By half-past six, his stomach was growling so loudly he was worried he’d give away his hiding spot. He had his phone, but what was he supposed to do? Order a pizza to the alley?

He heard a door open.

Harry poked his head out around the edge of the Dumpster. Someone was coming out the back of a business a couple of doors beyond the train store. Len’s Bakery, he thought. An woman in her sixties appeared, hunting in her purse for the keys to a silver Kia Sportage. She started up the car and began slowly making her way up the alley to Harry’s position. Not wanting to alarm her, he moved back and crouched down next to the Dumpster until the little car had rolled past. The woman had her eyes focused straight ahead, hands gripping the wheel at ten and two, and did not notice him.

The evening dragged on. Shortly before eight, he realized he had to take a leak. He turned in close to the wall, unzipped, and did what he had to do. Good thing there wasn’t a cop around, he thought. Might have gotten arrested for indecent exposure.

He kept glancing at his watch, wondering how much longer he could do this. By nine, it was completely dark. If Nabler wanted to conduct some nefarious business, this would be a good time to get to it. But the door never opened, and the van never moved. Harry was coming to the realization that this stakeout (he did kind of like that word) was a waste of time. Whatever Nabler might have been up to, maybe he’d finished. And anything that might incriminate him wasn’t to be discovered by following him.

It might well be in his shop.

What Harry really needed was to get in there. And if he wasn’t going to be able to get a warrant to search the place, he might have to bend the rules somewhat.

A plan began to formulate in Harry’s mind. He would need to enlist an accomplice.

Janice met Harry when he came through the front door shortly before ten.

“I forgot to eat,” he said.

There was some leftover lasagna that she popped into the microwave while he took off his jacket, put his service weapon in the top of the front hall closet, then went to the fridge for a cold beer.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Gonna have to come at this another way.” Harry looked at her as he took a long pull on the beer.