The Investigation

"Mr. William Hugh? It rings a bell." Elijah said, then turned to Ivan who seemed to be trying to recall. His face suddenly brightened. He came forward to Elijah and leaned to his ear.

"He is a contractor who got some money in the last few years for his construction work."

Elijah nodded. "Where do we see him?"

The factory manager cleared his throat. "I really do not know. I just have the address we used to deliver the goods to..."

"You mean the construction site?"

"Yes, sir."

Elijah tucked his hands into his pockets, raising his head slightly. He always did that when he wanted to question someone.

"Is there something you think we should know?"

The factory manager opened his mouth, decided against it, shut it and shook his head. The fast transition made Elijah crack a humorless smile.

"If I do find something myself, I am afraid you won't have the leisure to do that."

The factory manager swallowed and looked at Ivan, as if he was trying to see if he could intervene for him.

"Well...when he came to get the goods, he said it was for...a three story residential building. Normally, we have different levels of goods arranged according to the prices. Naturally, the lower priced ones are less qualitative, and that's why..we normally ask questions, and suggest the best level for each kind of building. It would be too unnecessarily expensive to buy level 3 bricks for a bungalow."

"And?" Ivan asked, urging the man to go on.

"Well, when Mr. william Hugh came, he asked for the cheapest straight on. We asked him what he wanted to build, because the cheapest material is the weakest, and...it can't take any high rise buildings. When he told us it was a three story building, we advised him to get from level three upwards. Those are really strong and can withstand anything. He insisted on the cheapest ones. So we sent him the cheapest materials."

Elijah could now see what everything was summed up to. He had pocketed the money and used cheap materials to work. Now it was already cracking.

"Thank you for the information."

They both left the factory, and Elijah asked to see the construction site.

It was another long drive, one that has Elijah rejecting or ignoring calls from his mother, and then father. He knew what they wanted to talk about. He didn't intend to have another arranged marriage, and he was sure as hell just as uninterested in relationships and love.

When the calls got too much, he switched off his phone and turned it upside down, so the screen was facing the car seat.

They finally got to the construction site, where work was going on. Everything, from the materials to the workers seemed extremely minimal, like it wasn't the project that was assigned a fund of a million dollars.

"Where is the boss?" Ivan said as he rounded over to where the workers were. Elijah sat in the car, surveying the entire place.

"The boss? He rarely comes." Came the answer.

Ivan came back to report to Elijah who had been investigating on William Hugh.

"I heard he was in charge of his neighbourhood too. Why don't we go there and we will see if we can find the man?"

Ivan nodded and checked up the neighborhood, before reversing the car and driving off.

When they got to the rather rural and dense area, Elijah stepped out, his gaze hard.

"Why is it so bad?" He asked, just as Ivan came beside him.

"Maybe the same foul play that's happening with the residential complex. Which means he doesn't live in one of these houses."

Elijah and Ivan walked to the houses, Ivan stopping at each one. Questioning the neighbours got them to a particularly shabby house.

"Why is the living condition here so bad? I mean, look at this." He touched a part of the roof that was broken and dangling by a small part.

"The living condition inside the house is even worse, sir." The neighborhood man, Ezra said with a small huff.

"What do you mean?"

"Well...the owner of that house is quite popular around here. He went bankrupt and lost everything some years back, and it felt like he had blamed the women in the house for it." He shook his head pitifully.

"Blame the women for it?" Elijah asked, his interest piqued. It was not his business, but he just wanted to know.

"Well, you see...he has never really liked girls to be honest. Whenever we would gather to play scrabble and drink on weekends, he would complain so much about having to take care of two girls who were completely useless in his eyes. His daughter has probably worked in every single place there is a vacancy for her. The wife is worn down, And it shows. I pity them."

Elijah nodded and surveyed the house again. He decided to make sure of Ivan's findings on the girl, and make sure I she was the one who worked I Mr. William's favorite restaurant. "And she is the girl who has worked part time at the restaurant Mr. William Hugh frequents?"

Ezra nodded. "That's because she works anywhere. She even pays her tuition too. Her father contributes nothing."

For some reason, even as they drove back, the thought of their suffering stuck on Elijah's mind. He found himself feeling sympathetic towards them, and even more averse to Mr. William.

"What should we do now?" Ivan asked, as they drove back to the office. It was a little past noon, and Elijah tended to work till 6p.m at least. When he really needed to avoid home, he could stay till 9 p.m.

"Nothing." Elijah answered simply.

"Nothing? What do you mean?"

"For now, we'll do nothing." He checked the date. "We will only alert him if we act rashly. He will find out for sure that the mayor came investigating him. He will be on edge and will be able to run immediately he senses any thing. He however, will become relaxed once the days drag on. That's why we should give him at least two weeks."

Ivan nodded, satisfied. His boss was always right.

Jennifer looked down at the wedding invitation card with her name on it. Her father had slipped it under her door that morning. Exactly two weeks from now, her father was going to marry her off and her life from there seemed so bleak.

She sighed and closed her face with the pillow, and before long, she was crying into it.