Chapter 16: The Vanishing Metal

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Faced with Zhu Yue’s inquiry, the boss did not respond immediately but instead led the group into the warehouse.

During this time, Han Ling assessed the surveillance situation outside the scrap collection station—there were three cameras in total.

One at the main gate of the station, one at the office entrance, and one at the warehouse door.

In this era, installing surveillance cameras was still relatively costly, and small to medium-sized businesses did not have a strong sense of security awareness. For the collection station owner to install three cameras on the perimeter already marked him as a cautious businessman.

Stepping into the warehouse, Han Ling quickly scanned the area but found no cameras inside.

The boss closed the door and turned on the lights before speaking: "We suspected it, checked the daytime and nighttime footage, but everything was normal. That’s merchandise worth five to six thousand yuan—if someone stole it, it would definitely show up on the footage.

“Officer, don’t you think it’s strange? Could it really be a mistake in the ledger? Or maybe it’s haunted.”

Zhu Yue listened while inspecting the warehouse.

The boss’s point made sense.

Five to six thousand yuan might not sound like a lot, but it depended on the items. If it were gold, it would be about thirty grams—small enough to carry on one’s person. But scrap metal weighs and takes up volume; it couldn’t be silently taken out without being caught on camera.

“Is all the metal stored here?” Zhu Yue asked.

Looking around, the warehouse held many small-volume scrap items, including some valuable metals like iron pots, electrical wires, aluminum cans, and old faucets.

The boss had taken them here first, indicating that the missing goods should be in the warehouse.

“Yes,” the boss nodded. “Most of the metal is stored here. The missing copper wires were thrown right here.” He pointed to an empty space next to a plastic barrel. “There used to be bundled copper wires there—dozens of pounds.”

Zhu Yue glanced over and scanned the area. “No surveillance, huh?”

The boss replied, “No cameras inside. There’s only one big door for warehouse access, so I only installed a camera at the door. Surveillance is expensive.”

Zhu Yue nodded slightly.

The boss’s reasoning was not entirely wrong; it wasn’t just about saving money. In theory, one camera at the door was enough since nothing valuable was stored inside.

It was impossible for anyone to quietly carry out and steal those items. Nobody would steal just one aluminum can or faucet daily.

Not to mention, the value didn’t add up.

That was five to six thousand yuan; petty theft could never amount to that much.

“Boss, you noticed the discrepancy between the goods you bought and the goods sold, which made you suspect theft, right?” Han Ling asked.

The boss looked at him and said, “Yes.”

Han Ling understood.

For scrap materials, the collection station was just a transit point; the goods would eventually be sold elsewhere.

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For example, metals would be sold to metal recycling companies or metal processing plants, plastics to pellet factories or plastic manufacturers, cardboard and paper to paper mills, and so on.

Every transaction was recorded in ledgers, and weights had to match.

There would inevitably be some discrepancies due to various reasons, but not to such a large extent. So the boss's suspicion was completely reasonable—there had to be a problem.

“There are only four employees. Just check them one by one,” Zhu Yue said, then started walking around the warehouse, occasionally rifling through the piles of scrap.

“Four people?” The boss was taken aback.

Han Ling explained in one sentence, “A large volume of scrap metal is missing, and the cameras didn’t catch any suspicious strangers. If theft really happened, it must be by an employee.”

Could the cameras have suffered a sophisticated malfunction? Possibly, but in 2009, when networked surveillance wasn’t widespread, it was unlikely.

At this stage, private cameras stored footage locally, and outsiders couldn’t tamper with them.

The boss responded with a thoughtful “Oh,” frowning as if mentally sorting out the biggest suspects.

“No… that’s not right.” After a moment, he realized, “Even if it’s employees, they couldn’t quietly move that much metal out. The cameras would have recorded it.”

Zhu Yue was still inspecting and said, “That’s why we’re here—to turn the impossible into possible and find out who the thief is.”

Hearing this, the boss forced a wry smile. He couldn’t figure it out himself and had to leave it to the police—professionals to handle professional matters.

After finishing the inspection, Zhu Yue stopped and asked, “Anyone can enter the warehouse normally, right?”

The boss nodded, “Yes, anyone can enter. The incoming scrap needs to be moved in.”

Zhu Yue asked, “What about after work hours? Is the door locked?”

The boss replied, “No, I only lock the main gate. It has a security lock with a latch. If someone can break that gate, the warehouse would be useless anyway.”

Zhu Yue understood.

He had noticed earlier that the warehouse was secured only with a simple padlock, which offered low security. If someone broke through the gate, locking the warehouse was meaningless.

Climbing over the wall was unrealistic—the top was covered with cement embedded with glass shards—and the bulky scrap was hard to move.

“Are you personally responsible for selling the metal?” Zhu Yue asked.

The boss said, “Yes, I go to metal processing plants a few times a month. I handle it myself.”

Zhu Yue asked, “Your scale is accurate, right?”

If the weight was off when buying scrap, the accounts wouldn’t match—for example, if the station paid for ten jin but only received eight jin.

Of course, this was unlikely; as the buyer, the boss wouldn’t deliberately cheat on the scale.

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“No, no, of course not,” the boss denied immediately. “How could that be?”

At this point, Zhu Yue’s brow furrowed slightly.

No abnormalities were found on the cameras, yet the station lost a large volume of metal over the year. It was truly strange.

Clearly, the metal weighed 'ten jin' at purchase but only 'eight jin' when sold to the processing plant. Where did the missing 'two jin' go?

How was this done?

The truth might be simple, but more clues were needed before drawing conclusions. They had just arrived and were in no rush.

“Only the metal is off, right? The other items are fine?” Han Ling asked.

The boss answered, “Yes, only the metal is off. Metal is valuable.”

Han Ling gave a knowing hum. Metal’s small size and high value made it the prime target.

Now three things were nearly certain.

First, metal was missing from the station’s warehouse.

Second, the surveillance showed no abnormalities.

Third, the theft was internal.

The question was, how did the employees do it? And with four employees, unless they conspired together, it would be easy to catch the culprit.

Han Ling’s gaze roamed the warehouse, putting himself in the suspect’s shoes to think differently.

If I were the thief, how would I steal over five thousand yuan worth of metal right under the boss’s nose for a whole year without the cameras showing anything?

Was it possible? Not too difficult—there was only one way: mixing the genuine with the fake.

“Boss, you’re in charge of selling the metal personally?” Han Ling asked.

The boss looked at him, “Yes, I just said that.”

Han Ling continued, “You only handle metal sales, right? The sales of other scrap are left to your employees—whom you trust.”

“Yes.” The boss nodded instinctively, suddenly feeling strange. “Hey? How do you know that?”