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You never know where you will find them.


"Oh fuck."

"Exactly and being a smart girl you'll predict a very expert cover-up, won't you?"

"My mind was going down that track. The incriminating plant could be buried in an excavation under two hundred tons of rubble."

"Not quite. Our informant says it was trucked into a tunnel, as the half square-mile quarry excavation is in an ancient formation that is crisscrossed with veins of rock that are crushed to make those fancy color aggregate toppings you see in fake mini gardens in corporate buildings, public utilities offices and public buildings like museums."

Sierra said yes, the shiny black and very crisp white chips were in little garden troughs on every floor of their building. "But why are you telling me this instead of informing the police and they'll go in."

"Unfortunately there are sixty-seven or sixty-eight tunnels in that quarry up to an eighth of a mile long."

"Oh, and you need to know which tunnel or which group of tunnels?"

"Indeed and we have the layout on film, hired a chopper and film crew to get it, but it's disappointing - just a large number of holes that vehicles drive in and come out laden with chunks of the targeted rock which is then trucked out for crushing, washing, sorting and stockpiling. Many of the tunnels have been abandoned. I might not be using the right terms, but that's it in a nutshell."

"Why don't you send in a private investigator?"

"We tried twice but it's tight security over there. Because our investigators weren't known by anyone as being in the local mining fraternity, their job applications were rejected."

"So you've come up with the idea of me applying for the role of an account assistant, and walking around at lunchtime taking photos with my hidden camera?"

"That's in the ballpark. One of your company's magazines is called Heavy Machinery. Macdonald-Geering have heavy machinery in the quarry so I'm suggesting you go in posing as a reporter and take a photographer, do the machinery story and then suggest to the site boss you take a picture of all employers gathered round one of their machines for the front cover picture. That will hit their egos, and make the group photo request very credible."


"Our people will study that photo to recognize people; we possess a photo of quarry personnel taken some five years ago."

"Ah, I get it. On the night that trucks ferrying in that plant implicated in the mining disaster trundled in they would have being unloaded and the stuff hauled into one of those tunnels by quarry men - trusted men who'd been with the company for a number of years - perhaps ten minimum."

"You're my girl Sierra. That's perhaps our only hope of trigging action on this. Without evidence, or at the very least a focal point promising discovery, if we applied for a search warrant our suspicions would sound a trite unbelievable, don't you think?"

Sierra frowned, dabbed her lips then smiled.

"The chance of discovery is further complicated because once the plant was at the end of the tunnel, the roof just back from it would have been blasted to fill the tunnel."

"You should have been on our investigation team. We paid big money to acquire that same theory."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, find a photographer you can trust. Get your accreditation from the principal of Heavy Machinery who'll know of you, but tell him nothing. They'll publish the story if you know anything about heavy machinery and produce a credible report."

"I don't know a thing except tires and steering wheels, but I know how to get men to talk."

Peter grinned. "I bet you do. Can you start on this tomorrow?"



"I guess so - yes."

"Right, let's talk about something else. How's you sex life?"

Sierra changed clothes at her apartment and returned to work. Tommy Thompson, editor and chief writer of the machinery magazine, said he'd have her accreditation card to her tomorrow, when perhaps she would have softened and would explain this mysterious request to him.

"No it's a test exercise, very hush-hush.

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