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“I certainly appreciate your advice, Miss Fox, but it raises a question,” you muse, “Have you had any particular trouble with the locals before? What about Barbeau?”
“We’ve had some trouble, yes. Still do, every now and then. We have little incidents at the factory sometimes, acts of vandalism and such. The worst of it was when one of the local workers started trying to destroy some of the machines here. This was more than just petty sabotage, this was serious. He wouldn’t stop when I ordered him to, so I had to shoot him,” Evelyn shrugs, “The mood was ugly from the start, but it’s been worse since then. A few of our workers – company men, not the locals – have been attacked.”
“Attacked!” Galt remarks, his eyes opening wide.
“Not seriously, I should add. A few bruises and scratches, nothing more than that. They were wandering the town streets after dark, against explicit company instructions. I suspect they were drinking,” the blonde woman sighs, “That’s not to say they deserved what happened to them, of course. But Master Barbeau… hm. I didn’t know him that well, but I don’t think he really mixed with the locals at all. He stayed out of their way, and they left him alone.”
It’s hardly surprising that the locals might resent the company, or anything associated with it. Though, you’d expect that Barbeau’s manor would be a prime target for vandalism if that was the case.
“I couldn’t help but notice that wanted poster out there,” you add, moving on, “Was that another local problem?”
“Mm, she’s a local woman. She did a few shifts in the factory every so often. She gave us the name “Mary”, but I’m fairly sure it was a fake name. That poster has been up for more than a year, she’s probably either dead or long gone by now,” Evelyn frowns, “But if you do see her, by some miracle, please let me know.”
“I might,” a pause, “If you tell me what she’s done.”
“Stealing company property. Sorry, but that’s all I can say,” she shakes her head, “Frankly, we don’t care about her. We just want what’s ours.”
More confidential matters, you assume. It’s funny to think of a company obsessing over some secret that might cost them a sliver of their profits, while you’re dealing with something of far greater importance.
“No promises, but we’ll see what happens,” you tell her, “Have you had any problems with banditry, anything more serious like that?”
“Fortunately not. I suspect that we’re so far away from anywhere that we avoid most of that. The locals can get restless, yes, but they’re ultimately too…” she pauses, “May I speak frankly?”
“Please do.”
“They’re too ignorant and cowardly to try anything that serious,” Evelyn explains, savouring her words, “They’re like beasts, in a way. Capable of a low, animal cunning, but not much more than that.”
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