Ripple Effect

Chapter Fifty: ...little brother to Secretary McCord.

"We did consider the possibility, but—"

Will held up one hand. "No. I get it." He hunched forward, and returned the cup to the table with a crackle of plastic. "I've spent forty-eight years humbly dwelling in my sister's shadow. Plenty of time to get used to it." He looked between the two agents. "So, how can I help you, gentlemen?"

Perez flipped open the cover on his notebook, and then mirrored Will's stance, his forearms rested against the table. "We'd like for you to talk us through what you can remember from that day, anything at all, and then we can go into more detailed questions."

"Sure. Though, I can't say I'll be able to tell you anything Lizzie hasn't told you already."

Perez glanced around at Hayes, but Hayes met him with an almost imperceptible shake of the head, and then adjusted the wiry frames of his glasses as he retrieved his cell phone from his inside jacket pocket. He tapped at the screen, and slid the phone into the middle of the table. "This interview is informal, but we'll be recording it, so long as that's all right with you. And if you need to stop at any point, just let us know."

"Okay," Will said, but his gaze continued to flit back and forth between the two agents. An almost imperceptible shake of the head—What did that mean?

Hayes gave him a flat smile. "Whenever you're ready."

Will leant back in his seat, though his hands remained rested atop the table and formed a loose corral around the cup. His gaze dipped to the walnut veneer, where the strip lights overhead added a shimmer to the surface, like the haze that had softened the edges of his mind in the days immediately after waking up, until each minute, hour, day bled into the next. The memories from before that still held their sharpness though.

He cleared his throat. "I came into work that morning, usual time, I was running a skills lab up until twelve, I was meant to be meeting Lizzie at one, but she was running late—something to do with the Russians—we ate, we talked, she offered to give me a lift...after that, I remember feeling unwell and Lizzie making a fuss, and then...nothing."

Perez jotted down one or two notes, whilst Hayes held his pen capped between his hands.

"From the time of onset of your symptoms, we know that you ingested the drug while at the restaurant," Hayes said. "Did either you or Secretary McCord bring any food or drink with you into the restaurant?"

"Not that I recall."

"No bottled water, takeaway coffee, wine?"

"No." Will shook his head. "Neither of us were drinking, we just had table water."

"And did you notice anything suspicious while at the restaurant?"

Will took another sip from his cup, and his eyes narrowed on Hayes. "If I had any reason to believe that my food was poisoned, do you really think I would have eaten it?"

Hayes opened his mouth, his tongue poised with the next question.

But Will motioned for him to stop. "And it can't have been at the restaurant, anyway."

Hayes glanced to Perez, and then back to Will. "Why not?"

"Because the only thing I ate there was the pasta."

Perez gave a shrug. "A drug like diasiozin could easily be crushed and mixed into the sauce."

"I'm perfectly aware of that. What I mean is, Lizzie ate it too."

Both men stared at him, their expressions vacant.

"It was her meal, but we split it because my salmon was overdone."