For a fat man, Suarez ate very little. Tom wolfed an eighteen-inch pizza while the other man poked at a chicken salad.
‘Diet,’ he explained needlessly.
‘They don’t work,’ said Tom. ‘When you start restricting food intake, the body goes into a protective mode that slows the metabolism to preserve every calorie.’
Suarez looked at him warily. ‘Are you shitting me?’
‘I saw it on the Learning Channel.’
‘Fuck this, then,’ said Suarez, and flapped his hand at a waiter. ‘Bring me a goddamn bowl of chilli. And fries.’
As they ate, Tom told him about the Pride of Maine, about South Africa, about the fan disc and the flange bolts, about the paperwork pointing back to WAE. ‘And now this,’ he finished, dropping sugar into his black coffee.
‘You think it’s connected?’
Tom shrugged.
‘Seems like a long shot,’ said Suarez. ‘She was a pretty girl – it may just have been a sex thing.’
‘We won’t know until your suspect starts talking.’
Suarez sipped his coffee with surprising delicacy. ‘And then what?’
‘If it’s connected, you’ve got motive and we share information. If it’s not, you just had a rare experience.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ said Suarez. ‘What’s that?’
‘A free lunch.’
*
‘My man wants to make a deal.’
They’d hardly got back through the door of the Irving station house.
Suarez looked surprised, then glanced at Tom, who raised his eyebrows hopefully.
The old, baby-faced lawyer Charles (never Charlie) Lumsden had been around too long to play games. If Chuck Zhong wanted to make a deal, Suarez knew that meant there was a deal to be made. He led both men into an interview room cluttered with McDonald’s debris, which smelt, appropriately enough, of old fries.
Lumsden put his tatty briefcase on the table but none of them sat down. ‘He’ll confess to killing the girl but claims temporary insanity.’
Suarez squeaked out a snort of disdain. ‘Yeah, I know temporary insanity. Disappears as soon as you zip up.’
Lumsden came nowhere near the bait. ‘He says he was being blackmailed by a colleague.’
‘Why?’
‘He was stealing from the plant.’
‘Stealing what?’ Tom asked, ignoring Suarez’s slightly territorial glance.
‘Nothing much,’ said Lumsden. ‘Nothing of value.’
‘Then what’s the big deal? Bit of blackmail can’t have been enough to drive him crazy,’ said Suarez.
‘Seems this colleague was sexually assaulting my client in return for his silence.’
‘Sexually assaulting?’ Suarez plainly needed more.
‘He was being forced to fellate him,’ said Lumsden, stiffly.
There was a short, grease-scented silence while they all grappled with the unwanted mental image.
Tom recovered first. ‘For stealing nothing of value? Bullshit!’
‘My client has an aeronautical-engineering degree. It seems he had expected to get a job with WAE in a more illustrious capacity. Any allegation of theft – however small – would mean an end to his dreams.’
Tom made a face. ‘And blowing some guy wouldn’t? Sounds like it’d be the end of any dream I ever had!’
‘Anyway,’ said Suarez, ‘how come he takes it out on the girl? How does she fit in?’
Lumsden sighed. ‘Apparently he feels she filled the job that was meant for him.’
‘Now that’s what I call motive!’ Suarez said, with happy satisfaction. ‘Who gives a shit about who blows who, or why? I got him just on that!’
‘That’s true,’ said Lumsden. ‘But that’s where the deal comes in. In return for consideration … Mr Zhong feels that he may be able to help expose a bigger picture.’
‘Of?’
