A family of evil

Chapter 10

They crossed the road, walked into the reception area and showed their IDs to the receptionist who looked way too young to be sitting in reception. Franklin  wondered why she wasn’t still at school and, she had on too much make-up. He asked to see Ken Watters and mentally prepared himself for the coming interview. At this rate, he’d go straight for the jugular. God, he hated people who took advantage! And when it came to kids, even if they were tall, 16-year-olds, they were still kids. They had a right…

‘Can I help you?’

The voice spun him around and he stopped. The man facing him was of solid build, ruddy faced with grey hair and was Franklin  guessed, in his sixties. He was wearing a pale blue shirt with Auckland Steel embroidered on the pocket. Franklin  guessed that this was not the man he was looking for. The receptionist was not as young or as empty-headed as he had assumed, this was obviously one of the Managers. He stepped forward, his badge out in front of him and introduced himself and Michael . ‘We’re wanting to speak with Ken Watters.’

‘I’m Ross Fowler, I own Auckland Steel.’

Franklin  continued. ‘We need to ask Ken a few more questions. Is he available?’

Ross looked at the receptionist who was watching wide-eyed. Franklin  guessed this was going to be her topic of conversation for the rest of the week.

‘Is Ken here or is he out on site?’

‘He’s in the workshop. I think he’s holding a toolbox meeting.’

‘Well, get him.’ Ross turned away. ‘You can use the small conference room, it’s private and it’s quiet.’ And he led them down a corridor and into a room with a long table with eight high-backed chairs around it, a whiteboard on one wall and a large painting of Ross Fowler on the other. They walked in and Ross came in after them.

‘Anything I should know?’ He was a big man and Franklin  knew that he would command respect, if not just by his size, then by his obvious ability, if this business was anything to go by.

‘Missing boy, sir. He did work experience here for a while then disappeared. Just want to see if Ken can give us any more information on the boy to help us in our investigation. We’ll inform you if there is anything you need to know.’

Ross nodded. ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’

The man who entered the room next was no Ross Fowler. A bright yellow, fluorescent sleeveless vest hung over crumpled dirty work trousers and pale blue work shirt. His worn boots proclaimed him all working man. Franklin  took in the jet-black hair and oily olive skin. But it was the gut bulging out of his vest that told Franklin  most about the guy, he liked his beer and his food. Franklin  wondered if he had as little self-control over other appetites. Franklin  glanced at the gut again, an uncomfortable reminder of what lack of exercise can do to the body. 

After identifying themselves, Franklin  indicated a chair across the table from them, shut the door and took his seat beside Michael , both detectives sitting side by side, facing Ken across the table. The room seemed to get smaller.

‘How long have you worked for Auckland Steel?’ Franklin  found his patience. They had prepared an interview plan with topics they wanted to cover and questions they wanted answers to. Franklin  had reviewed the file with Michael  and was satisfied that Michael  was in the best position to challenge anything Ken said. He wanted to do this right and he wanted the right result.

‘About four years now. What’s this about?’

Excellent, Ken was unsettled, unsure, just how Franklin  liked his interviewees. ‘We’ll come to that in a moment. How long have you been a supervisor here?’

‘About six months.’

‘Why did it take so long to become a Supervisor?’ Michael  was on-stride too.

‘What’s this about? What am I supposed to have done?’ Ken was looking none too comfortable.

‘Just answer the question. Was there a reason you weren’t made Supervisor sooner?’

The question hung. They waited.

‘I was a bit too quick to react sometimes. Needed to learn to get my facts straight before I acted, so to speak,’ he added when neither Franklin  nor Michael  responded.

‘Anger problem?’ Franklin  was first to ask.

‘What’s this about? Have one of those little bastards been saying something about me?’ Ken had turned a darker shade and leaned forward with his chin.

Michael  turned to Franklin . ‘Yep, anger problem.’ He looked back at Ken. ’Have one of those little ‘bastards’ got something to complain about, then?’

‘Now you listen to me. We’ve got Project Managers on all hours with the work we’ve got on. The stores can’t keep up. Every time we start to catch up, staff are pulled out and sent to site. We’re understaffed and we’ve got Management on our back to get it right. Safety and quality, it’s like a bloody mantra. We’re just trying to get the work through. And the kids we hire wouldn’t know a hard day’s work if it smacked them in the face. Caught in the bloody middle I am.’

Both men watched as Ken realised that he’d revealed too much. He sat back, broke eye contact, looked out the window.

‘We’re wanting to know what you can tell us about Clinton ley Dawson.’

Franklin  was fascinated by Ken’s reaction. He looked from one to the other, trying to read them and Franklin  saw the fear. You could smell it mingled with sweat.

‘What about him? He doesn’t work here anymore. He was hopeless, just couldn’t be bothered coming back to work, same as the rest, lazy, the lot of them. I already told you that the day you came around.’

Franklin  met a lot of people in this job. He had learned that there were a lot of bad people in the world and he hadn’t liked Ken from the first. Franklin  would put his reputation on the fact that there was something Ken didn’t want them to know. Got Franklin  really focused.

‘Had to pull him into line, did you?’ Michael  stretched back in his chair and put his head to one side, waiting to see what Ken would say.

‘Listen, they all need it. They’ll work at the beginning, but it’s keeping them working that’s the problem. Most of them just give up and don’t come back. Like Clinton .’ The sheen of sweat on Ken’s brow told them pressure was building. He was starting to fidget.

‘So, were there any extra duties that Clinton  might have objected to? Could that be the reason he didn’t come back to work?’ Instantly, Franklin  saw relief in Ken’s face. They’d missed something, Franklin  knew that Ken was relieved they were not going to focus on what had happened to Clinton  after he left. He made a note on his pad.

Ken hesitated, they could actually hear him swallow. ‘I don’t touch them. I’m not a faggot, if that’s what you’re insinuating.’ But the bluster was gone. Franklin  pushed harder, they learned way more when Ken was in full force. ‘Why didn’t Clinton  come back? What happened to him?’

‘I don’t know what happened to him. He left, didn’t come back. How the hell would I know? Didn’t you hear me? He just didn’t come back! It was nothing to do with me, I don’t know what happened to him.’

‘But you do know don’t you Ken.’ He decided to take a shot in the dark. ‘You know why he left, and you know why he didn’t come back and you know who’s behind it.’

They watched the colour drain from Ken’s face. Franklin  watched Ken’s olive skin become a sickly shade of yellow as it tried to turn white. Franklin  hadn’t seen anyone do such a bad job of being terrified while still trying to look calm.

‘I’ve got nothing to say. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what anyone’s been saying. I don’t know anything. They can’t say that I do.’ He clasped his hands tightly and put them under the table on his lap, out of sight. It was as if someone had flicked a switch and life drained from him. Bluster melted into fear and resignation.

‘I think you’d better come down to the station, Ken. I think you can help us a bit more with our enquiries.’

‘I don’t know anything. I can’t help you.’ He swallowed again, ‘What if I tell you that maybe I had been a bit rough on the boy? I can tell you about that but, I don’t know anything about why he didn’t come back.’

‘Okay, why don’t you tell us about being a bit rough on the boy.’

Ken was desperate to deflect them from why Clinton  left. If he wanted to spill his guts about what he had actually done, they would keep the flow going. Something was scaring him and once he got a chance to think about it, he might clam up altogether.

‘They’re lazy see, none of them have done a day’s work. They muck around, they’re cheeky and they answer back. Management knows nothing about the disrespect I have to put up with. A bit of fear goes a long way to making them do as they’re told.’

‘And what do you do to put the fear into them, Ken?’ Franklin  prepared himself, he knew where this was leading.

‘I don’t, I mean, I’m not ……… It’s just the wife, she’s got a bad back, you know, and a man has needs.’

‘Give it to them, do you Ken?’ Michael ’s tone was neutral.

‘What? No! I’m no shirt-lifter. What do you think I am? No, I get them, you know, to give me blowjob, in the toilets out the back. They’ve probably all done it anyway. With any luck, one of the other boys will come in and hear what’s happening. It keeps them in line.’

‘So, what happened with Clinton ?’ Franklin  kept his attention on Ken, blocking the images seeping into his mind.

‘Nothing. He got into a bad crowd I guess.’

‘How do you know that?’ Michael  asked quietly.

Ken shrugged. ‘He was that sort. Street kid, you know.’

‘No, you see Ken, that doesn’t fly. We know that Clinton  was a bit of a loner, so he wouldn’t be hanging with any crowd. That’s why he was so easy to grab, no one was going to notice. Except for the other kids. Tell us about that Ken.’ Michael ’s voice was deadly soft, almost enticing.