“Mark doesn’t come into my machine shed,” Carl said, picking a small brass key off his ring to open the heavy padlock on the chest lid.

“He doesn’t have a key to this building,” I said, lifting the first cardboard box out of my back seat.

“He wouldn’t get past the door frame if he did,” Carl said, lifting a heavy steel tray of socket wrenches out of the chest to clear space at the bottom.

I set the first box into the deep steel compartment, feeling the chill of the iron floor through the cardboard.

“There’s room for the second one right next to it,” Carl said, holding the heavy lid open with one calloused hand.