“Go on,” he says.
“Well they covered it back up and drove off. I would have followed them, but I don’t have a car and I can only run so fast.” He is hooked, or at least he is nibbling. “I thought I’d see if it’s a regular thing or if it was just a one timer, so I started keeping an eye on the loading dock when my friend provided entertainment.”
“And what did you find?” he asks, his pen scribbling furiously in his pad.
“The same guy making another pickup, carrying out another rolled up tarp about the same size,” I say as I lean back in the chair.