Eleven
The two men sat in the unmarked police car in a parking spot in front of a hole-in-the-wall bakery. There was nothing remarkable about the shop's exterior. It was sandwiched between a place selling and repairing old electronic equipment, and a charity shop. All three had bars on the windows and the graffiti adorning the grey, harled wall extolled the virtues of various "youth groups," as Alisdair euphemistically called them. Nothing remarkable about the shop at all.
"For crying out loud, Alisdair, whatever possessed you to actually eat something from this place for the first time? It's a dump. It looks as though you could come down with food poisoning just looking at the front door."
"Not bad, though, eh, sir?" Alisdair smiled and took a swig from a bottle of water.
"Not bad? Je
