C.C.T.V.

The images flickered across the bank of black and white monitors. The glare from the screens lit up the face of the expressionless man sitting before them. He saw all, he heard all. No corner of Skaggerston was off limits, no home free from surveillance.

He made copious notes as he watched.
Some screens replayed historic footage of the town.
Other showed up to the minute feeds of the residents.
He scribbled something else on a checklist.
Coughed.
Sighed.

He reached forwards, turned off the screens.
Walked towards the exit.
Turned out the one dim light, and locked the door.