The Janus Project (ONC 2020 - LGBTQ)

8. The Hardwick Engineering Company

(Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to floranocturna whose ONC entry - a contemporary romance story, Untie the Knot - Hades & Persephone, (a loose retelling) has already shot past 3K reads!)

Ash had to walk a few streets before he was able to hail a steam carriage and clamber in. The Hardwick Engineering Company was located in the city's industrial sector on the other side of the river, too far for walking if he wanted to arrive more or less on time.

The river, which split the city in two, was running fast after recent rains, brown and swollen with stormwater. The carriage rattled over the iron bridge and soon Ash found himself hemmed in by tall buildings, some with great gouts of steam billowing from vents in the roof. Hissing, clanging and pounding pistons assaulted his ears over the rumbling of the carriage wheels.

Eventually the carriage halted in front of a tall, narrow-fronted building. A large clockwork wheel protruded from the second floor above the words Hardwick Engineering, cast in a flowing script. The front door, too, was decorated with brass fittings, all of which were polished to a high gloss, proclaiming to the passerby that this was a prosperous concern.

A quick glance at his watch told him he was only five minutes late. Ash paid the driver and went into the building. He found himself in a hallway, with stairs on one side leading up to a mezzanine floor, and closed doors at the far end presumably segregating the engineering works from public intrusion. A series of hooks along one wall held a variety of coats, and a couple of earmuffs, and an old-fashioned brass time-clock was attached to the wall nearby.

Before Ash had time to do more than glance around, a trim secretary dressed in a neat navy-coloured skirt and blouse, came down the stairs to greet him.

"Detective Calvin?" she queried.

"Yes, that's right," Ash replied, taking out his identification card.

The secretary nodded and led the way back up the stairs to her employer's office.

She knocked once perfunctorily and opened the door.

"Mr Pettigrew, Detective Calvin is here to see you, sir," she announced, before withdrawing.

Pettigrew rose to greet him, a look of worried enquiry on his face. He was a plump man, with soft white hands which looked as if they had never personally done any work on the factory floor.

"Detective? What's all this about, then?" he asked.

It appeared the news had not reached him yet.

"I understand Clive Jenkins is employed here, sir?"

"Yes, one of our more reliable workers—at least, usually. He hasn't turned up today... has something happened?"

"I'm afraid I have bad news, sir. Mr Jenkins was found dead last night."

"Dead? He wasn't even forty!" Mr Pettigrew was shocked. "What was it, an accident of some sort?"

"Not an accident I'm sorry to say. It was murder. He was killed in his home, last night."

Pettigrew sank back into his chair, his face turning pale. "But that's terrible! You're sure it was murder? It couldn't have been an accident?"

Ash shook his head. "There's no doubt it was murder."

Pettigrew was silent for a moment, absorbing the news. Then, "How can I help you, Detective?" he asked. "What do you need from me?"

"Could we start with any information you can give me about Mr Jenkins himself. How long has he been employed here?"

"I see, well, it must be at least eight years." Mr Pettigrew closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to remember. "Possibly ten. Normally, of course, our employees' records are confidential, but I suppose... in this case... If you hold on a moment, I'll ask Miss Jarvis to bring me his file."

"That would be most helpful, sir. So far we have been unable to trace any close relatives. I'm hoping your records will provide us with the details for his next of kin. And then, I'd like to interview all your employees who worked with him. Did he have any close friends?"

~~~

Half an hour later, Ash was seated at a desk in a vacant office on the same floor as Mr Pettigrew. In front of him lay a copy of Jenkins' employment file and a list of twelve names, ten men and two women, who regularly worked in the same section. The factory employed nearly a hundred people, so Ash was going to start with those who worked closely with the victim first.

Given the violence of the crime, he was reasonably confident neither of the women had been the perpetrator, but nevertheless, they might know something which could help.

He'd start with them.

"A quiet man, pleasant enough in his way, but hardly the life and soul of the party if you know what I mean...

"A steady worker, liked everything neat and tidy...

"Bit on the quiet side, he'd come out for a drink with the rest of us after work sometimes, but he'd never have more than two and never stay long...

"Clean, tidy worker... I've worked with some who'd leave their station a right mess at change of shift, but you never had to worry about that with Jenkins...

Ash saw the last man out and returned to his seat with a sigh, rolling his shoulders to ease the strain. Not a single lead as to what might have triggered the attack. He had a picture of a quiet, fairly solitary man who did his job and was liked well enough by his colleagues but was not particularly close to any of them. Possibly the least likely person that he could imagine, to fall victim to such a violent crime.

Mr Pettigrew popped his head around the door. "All finished then?"

Ash nodded. "For the moment. That was the lot, was it? Everyone who worked with Mr Jenkins?"

Mr Pettigrew hesitated. "Well, there's Miller. He's only been here a week, though, so I didn't think he'd be much help."

Ash suppressed a flicker of irritation. He'd been most clear in asking to interview everyone who had worked with the victim. "Possibly not, but I still need to see him," he said as evenly as he could.

"Of course, Detective," said Mr Pettigrew, flushing pink. "I'll send him up."