o 1 e
The police car slid quietly down the long， empty street
The widely-spaced lighting left pools o[bJackp~e~:c，n;o，，.~，j，
6et ween the overhead standards.
\"~reepy sor~ o~ p lace，~~ said Detective Sergeant Bran-
nigan.
\"More cheerful by daylight，\" agreed Detective Con-
stable Wrangle. He was driving the car.
\"Pull up for a moment. I want to have a look.\"
The roadway was enclosed on both sides by a wooden
wall made of ten-foot planks set vertically in tile ground
and held together by rows of metal strip. The bottom of
tile fence was buried in a thick belt of marram grass.
Alder and thorn， tile trees that grow quickest when men
depart， had pushed their shoots through the cracks and
were already tall enough to top the wall.
\"Been like this long?\"
\"Long as I can remember，\" said Wrangle. \"Must be
more n six years since they shut the East Docks.\"
\"What used to be there?\"
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