“Sure.” Oscar smiled. But as he did so his eye was taken by a couple entering the restaurant, and speaking to the maître d. There was something about their manner that looked wrong. They wore suits, but not the kind you put on to eat here. And they were too assertive, they didn’t have the relaxed way of diners. When the three of them – the couple and the maître d – looked repeatedly over to their table, Oscar knew. He allowed himself a deep breath, but still pretended not to notice as they walked closer.
“Excuse me sir,” the maître d tried to say, but the woman cut him off, flashing a silver badge in a black leather wallet.
“Oscar Magnuson? James Richards? My name is Special Agent Jessica West of the FBI and this is my partner Agent Black. Do you mind if we have a quick word?”
James stiffened in his place, but Oscar remained quite calm.
“What about?”
The female agent – West – turned to speak directly to Oscar, she let her eyes flash to the other diners at the table. “It might be better if we speak in private sir.”
“Why? I don’t have anything to hide. What’s this about?”
The agent hesitated a second longer. “As you wish. I see you’re dining with Lily Bellafonte tonight. You’re aware no doubt of the young man who was accused of bombing her family’s business premises? One Billy Wheatley?”
“The environmental nutjob? Who killed himself? Jumped off the ferry?”
“Perhaps. Only it turns out he didn’t kill himself after all. He’s been apprehended.”
A ripple ran around the table, shared by Oscar. So that’s what this was about. Internally, Oscar smiled, excited about what was to come. On the outside his face appeared to show completely authentic shock. He lifted a hand to cover his jaw.
“Oh my.” He glanced at Lily, and noticed James did the same, offering her a sad smile. This was going to be hard on her. Then Oscar turned back to the agent.
“It’s good of you to let us know.” He tried a dismissive smile, then turned away.
“We’re not here to let you know. We’d like to ask you some questions.”
Oscar turned back, feeling the beginnings of anger. “What about? It’s nothing to do with us.”
“I’m afraid Mr Wheatley has accused you and Mr Richards of being involved in the bombings.” West didn’t take much care to say it quietly, and the entire table fell silent, while the diners on other nearby tables were also now clearly watching. That pissed Oscar off. What fucking right did this bitch have? What the fuck was she playing at? But he suppressed the anger. Suddenly he burst out into laughter.
“He’s accused us? Oh wow, that’s a good one!” Oscar turned to James again, reassuring him with the glance and encouraging him to play along. They were always expecting this, there was nothing to worry about.
“Well that’s preposterous. Completely ridiculous.” Oscar stopped laughing now. But West didn’t reply.
“You can’t possibly be taking this seriously? The testimony of that murdering little jerk? Who faked his own death?”
“Just a few questions sir.”
“What here?” Oscar looked around at the restaurant.
“We have an interview room at the bureau offices. Two interview rooms.” West looked up at James, then fell silent. Oscar broke the quiet.
“And this can’t possibly wait? This nonsense, until we’ve had our dinner?”
“It won’t take long to clear up, Mr Magnuson.”
Oscar glanced at James, giving him a tiny nod that no one else caught, then he shook his head as if in disbelief. Then he removed his napkin and pushed his chair out.
As he got up from the table, Oscar caught the eye of Jennifer. She gave him the tiniest nod of her own, reassuring him this was nothing to worry about.
“What did you say your name was?” he asked the female agent, and when she repeated her name he added.
“I think you’re going to regret the way you’ve approached this, Agent West.”
Outside the restaurant he and James were put into the back of separate unmarked cars, his driven by another woman who didn’t introduce herself. The other agent, Black, got into the passenger seat. Then they drove. No one spoke to him on the way, but he asked where they were going.
“FBI regional headquarters.” Agent Black replied without turning around. When they arrived Oscar was led inside via a back entrance, and along several corridors until they came to an interview room. Here Oscar realized that Agent Black had gone, and only the woman was there.
“We’ll be with you just as soon as we can. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“I’d like my dinner.”
The woman left the room.
Just as soon as they can turned out to be a long time. The woman returned to check up on him after thirty minutes, and when he protested that he hadn’t been dragged out of his dinner to sit and wait for nothing, she promised she would ask Agent Black to speak to him directly. He came another ten minutes later.
“What the hell is this? What am I doing here?”
“We told you Mr Magnuson. Mr Wheatley has made certain accusations against you and your friend James Richards. We have to follow them up.”
“Then why aren’t you? Why are you just holding me here?”
“We’re not holding you here, you’re waiting. We’re speaking first to Mr Richards, when we’re done there we’ll get to you.”
“So I can leave?”
Agent Black got up from where he was sitting and opened the door. “You’re free to go anytime.” He sighed deeply, as Oscar began to rise from his chair. “But we would appreciate it if you could hold on just a little longer. Believe me, we want to get this cleared up just as much as you do.”
Oscar hovered for a moment, half-on
