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A dingy industrial room sits bare, apart from a pallet of cash and another with kilo packages in a silver foil wrap. A money counter sits on top of a desk against a wall with a chair pushed underneath. I pick up a foil package and dig into it with the key to my flat.
The end of the key comes out dusted in a fine white powder. If it was any good, the stuff would be rockier and yellow in colour.
Yeah, this stuff is cut to high heaven. Looks as if they're packing up and shipping out, too. I wander over to a battered steel door at the back of the room.
As I slide it open, I’m greeted by a dark room with a low ceiling and a herbal whiff strong enough to knock out an elephant.
There's a mini laboratory on the far side and rows of plant life between. The cannabis farm looks as if it's bei
