‘She didn't really ‘ave a lot to with ‘em. Day to day she wasn't too involved. To be honest, I think it woulda been the same to her if the place was filled with a load of farm animals. Had a bit of a temper from what I heard but other than that there ain't nothing I can tell yer.’
‘How about Richard Croft?’
‘Fucking wanker,’ he said, taking another bite.
‘Care to elaborate?’
‘Not really. If he’s still alive when yer get to him, you'll see what I mean.’
‘Did he have much involvement with the girls?’
‘You're kiddin ain't yer? He didn't come out of his office long enough to spake to any of ‘em. And they all knew better than to bother him. His job was budgets and stuff. Talked a lot about marking benches and performance intimators or some other shit.’
Kim guessed he meant benchmarking and performance indicators, both of which would have meant nothing to the handy man.
Arthur tapped his nose. ‘Always dressed above his station, that one.’
‘You mean he wore nice clothes?’
‘I mean he wore nice everything. Suits, shirts, shoes, ties. He weren't buying that on the salary of a civil servant.’
‘Is that why you didn't like him?’ Kim asked.
Arthur grunted. ‘I didn't like him for a million reasons but that weren't one of ‘em.’ His face creased in distaste. ‘Slimy, nasty bastard. Superior and secretive and ...’
‘About what?’ Bryant asked.
Arthur shrugged. ‘I don't know. But why a man would need two computers on his desk is beyond me. And he'd always pull down the lid of the small one when I went in. Dunno why. It ain't like I could've understood it.’
‘Did you know Tom Curtis?’
Arthur nodded as the last of the cob was ground up in his mouth. ‘He weren't a bad lad. Young and good looking. He had more to do with them girls than anybody. Do ‘em a sarnie if they’d missed tea, that kinda thing. He put a brave face on it.’
‘A brave face on what?’ Kim asked.
‘Bein’ at Crestwood, of course. That’s the thing, see. Everybody was there for their own reasons. It was a good stepping stone to wherever folks wanted to get. Except Mary. Salt of the earth, that one.’
Kim turned away for a second, thinking about the charges in the care of this group of people who at best, had offered no warmth, guidance or genuine care – and at worst, had done a whole lot more.
‘Did you know William Payne?’ Bryant asked.
Arthur guffawed. ‘Oh, you mean Golden Bollocks?’ he asked and then laughed to himself. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.
Kim turned and peered closely at the man before her. The effects of the alcohol were loosening him up. His focus was slightly off as he took another good gulp of beer, finishing off his pint.
Kim stood and went to the bar. ‘How many has he had?’ she asked Maureen.
‘A double whisky and he’s on his fourth pint.’
‘That his usual?’
Maureen nodded as she filled up a bowl with salted nuts for communal use. Kim wouldn’t have eaten one with an AK47 at her head.
Maureen turned and threw the empty bag in the bin. ‘Once he’s finished that pint, he’ll ask for another, I’ll refuse him. He’ll call me a foul name and then he’ll stagger home to sleep it off before coming back again tonight.’
‘Same routine every day?’
Maureen nodded.