The pry bar I had used the morning before was still lying on the concrete floor near the scrap pile.

The unplugged chest freezer sat against the back wall, its lid slightly crooked where the latch had broken under the iron bar.

“Where is the lock that was used?” Sandra asked.

“The police took the brass padlock into evidence yesterday,” I said.

“Officer Henderson has it.”

“Why was there a padlock on an unplugged freezer in the first place?” she asked, writing on her clipboard.

“I put the lock bracket on four months ago,” I said.