Chapter 5
Eric stands outside of the Broflovski textile building. He pulls an envelope from the inside of his coat.
"Where is that name." He says, searching the employee manifest. "Ah, here it is." He says, pointing down to a Mr. Craig Tucker. Craig is the foreman. If anyone would know anything about the man Kyle was kissing he would.
The lobby of the building is nice, much nicer than the outside. There is a pretty young woman sitting at the front desk who greets him.
"How can I help you sir?" She says, a cheery grin on her face.
"I'm looking for Mr. Tucker." Eric says.
Suddenly the grin disappears.
"Mr. Tucker doesn't meet with clients." she says.
Eric sighs and shows her the badge that Mr. Broflovski gave him.
"I'm here on behalf of Mr. Broflovski." He says in a way that indicates he thinks the receptionist should be impressed by this.
The receptionist sighs but agrees to take him upstairs.
Eric is actually quite intrigued by the operation. He hasn't been in too many factories in his life and this one is definitely one of the most impressive he has ever seen. There are hundreds of workers all around him operating machines and carrying material and merchandise. If he wasn't in the private detective business he could definitely see himself overseeing an operation like this.
Craig is a man of average proportions who has an unaverage scowl on his face. In fact it's so bad Eric thinks for a second that maybe their paths have crossed before and Mr. Tucker is harboring some kind of grudge.
"So what can I do for you? Bebe tells me you are here on behalf of Mr. Broflovski." Craig says, clearly uninterested by any of this.
"Yes, Mr. Tucker, I am sure you are a very busy man. I will try and take up as little of your time as possible." Craig rolls his eyes as if Eric has already taken up to much of his time. "I believe I saw one of your employees involved in something that would be of personal interest to my client. Would you happen to have some sort of photographic record of the employees here?"
Craig reluctantly goes into his desk and pulls out a picture frame. " This is a picture of last year's company picnic. See if you recognize him in there."
Eric takes the picture and after a minute or so scanning over it, he recognizes the raven haired boy he saw kissing Kyle.
"Him." Eric says, pointing towards Stan.
"That's Stan Marsh, been with the company two years, never been in trouble."
"Does he have a police record? How does he act at work? Have you ever got the feeling that he is a little off?" Eric says.
Craig stares at him for a second as if he had just asked if Stan came from Mars.
"Look, I'm the foreman here, not the man's mother. All I know is what is in his file." He takes the folder and hands it to Eric. "You can keep that if you like. Now if you excuse me I have work to do." Craig says, putting his head back down into his papers.
Eric goes down to the police station and pays his friend Scott Malkinson a visit. Scott has helped him before on other cases and usually lets Eric look through the arrest records.
"Not even a smoking citation!" Eric says to himself as he throws the file cabinet closed. He can't believe it. Almost everyone he knows including himself has some kind of police record. He was hoping to get some kind of dirty past on Marsh and get him to confess to fooling around with Kyle. He knows that Marsh is guilty but without proof his word won't do much good.
Exiting the police station Eric looks at his watch. He still has a few hours before closing time when he wants to be at the factory, just in case he is lucky enough to catch them kissing again, this time with his camera ready. He decides to hop a ferry to Ellis Island and check out Mr. Marsh's immigration record.
Eric arrives on the Island just as a steamship full of passengers is getting off. He sneers at the sickly looking people, covering his mouth and nose with his coat. God forbid he catch one of those diseases that the filth from Europe bring in.
He goes up to the record room on the second floor and flashes his detective badge. He recognizes the man behind the desk. He harbors the same anti-immigrant views as Eric and lets him in.
Stan is an immigrant from Poland. Other than that has no criminal record, no diseases, although his father was known for drunk and disorderly conduct back in Europe. It's something.
Eric waits outside the factory for an hour without seeing any sign of Kyle or Stan. He resigns himself to the probability that they already left and considers calling it a night. However he gets an inkling to search the inside of the building. It would be more condusive to do at night with almost no one around to bother him. Maybe he can even find evidence in Kyle's desk or Stan's locker.
The security guard at the front door gives him a dirty look till he flashes the employee badge. The guard still looks unnerved but lets him in. The building is much creepier at night, the usually noisy lobby eerily quiet.
He climbs the stairs to the second floor, stopping at the landing to catch his breath. He turns on his flashlight, looking around. Nothing but silent machines. He stops for a moment and listens; he could have sworn he heard a sound. He freezes, hearing it again. He steps carefully, not wanting to lose the faint sound.
As he gets closer he can hear it more clearly now. It almost sounds like moaning. A smile creeps up on his face; he couldn't be that lucky to stumble across them actually doing it. He checks his bag, making sure his camera is at the ready just in case he gets the opportunity.
As he approaches the men's locker room he can hear it clearly now, moaning and what sounds like two male voices. He takes the camera out of his bag and places it around his neck. He approaches the door very slowly and tries to gently turn the handle. It won't budge?
"Jammed." He says to himself. Pretty smart, must have stuck a something under the handle. He wonders if it was Kyle's idea or if Stan is smarter that he appears. He looks up at the top of the room divider. If only he could pop his head over it. He could get a perfect picture and they might not even realize he was there. He looks around to see if there is anything he can stand on. He spots a crate in the corner and drags it over to the wall. He looks at it for a second, questioning if it will support his weight. He shrugs and steps on top. It seems to be holding him for now. He boots himself up and looks over the wall. He has to force himself not to start audibly cheering for what he sees.
Stan has Kyle pinned up against a locker, his dick so far in him that neither of them are even remotely aware of his presence. He takes his camera from around his neck and spends several minutes snapping pictures of them from several different angles. There will be no mistaking the two now.
When he is finally done he climbs down off the crate, dragging it back into place. A feeling of joy overruns him at thought of busting that sneaky Jew's secret. The thought of ruining Stan's perfect record gives him joy also.
Eric rushes back to his office to develop the film. He bursts through the door and goes immediately into the dark room. He takes off his coat and gets to work removing the film from the camera and developing the images photo by photo.
He takes the images out of the solution and hangs them with clothespins on a line. After a few second, they go from blank pieces of paper to images of the redhead and the raven haired boy fucking, and Eric starts to laugh menacingly.