Secret Prey

‘‘fat’’ ‘‘. . . lard?’’
    Lucas tried to put him off: ‘‘So you work out for a couple months.’’
    ‘‘Lucas . . . when I was playing ball, my last year, I weighed two-oh-five. So I go to this fat doctor and say, ‘Give me a diet I can stay on, something simple, that’ll get me back to two-oh-five.’ He says, ‘Okay, do this: Go to lunch every day and eat one Big Mac with all the fixings. And as much popcorn as you want, all day. Nothing else.’ I say, ‘Jesus Christ, I’ll starve.’ He says, ‘No you won’t, but you’ll lose a lot of weight.’ ’’
    Isley looked at Lucas. ‘‘You know how long he said it would take to get to two-oh-five?’’ Lucas shook his head. ‘‘A year and a half. A fuckin’ year and a half, Lucas . . .’’
    ‘‘I’ll tell you what, Dama,’’ Lucas said bluntly. ‘‘You’re either gonna lose it, or you’re gonna die. Simple as that.’’
    ‘‘Not that simple,’’ Isley said.
    ‘‘Oh yeah it is,’’ Lucas said. ‘‘After all the bullshit, that’s what it comes down to.’’
    ‘‘I don’t even like food that much . . . and I’d like to live awhile longer,’’ Isley said wistfully. ‘‘I’d like to quit the company, go to London and study money . . . find out what it really is.’’
    ‘‘Money.’’
    ‘‘Yeah, you know. Money ,’’ he said. ‘‘Not many people really know what it is, how it works. I’d like to spend some time finding out.’’
    ‘‘So start hitting the McDonald’s,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘Fat chance.’’
    The waitress arrived with the martini, and Isley’s wistfulness disappeared, replaced by the steel-trap investment banker. ‘‘So what’s going on? Starting another business?’’
    ‘‘No.’’ Lucas sipped the martini. ‘‘When you took my company public, we ran some of the money stuff through Jim Bone over at Polaris. You seemed to know him pretty well. He was hunting with Kresge when Kresge got shot, and I need a reading on him. Bone, I mean. And Susan O’Dell, if you know her. And Wilson McDonald.’’
    Isley’s face went cautious: ‘‘Is this official?’’
    ‘‘No, of course not. I’m just trying to get a reading. Nobody’ll be coming back to you.’’
    Isley nodded. ‘‘Okay. I know them all pretty well— socially and business, both. Either Bone or O’Dell has the guts to shoot Kresge, but I don’t think either one did. These people are very smart and very serious. If they’d wanted to lose Kresge badly enough, they would have done it another way.’’
    ‘‘What about Robles or McDonald?’’
    ‘‘Robles is a software genius. He does the math. But he’s more of a technician than a manager. He also doesn’t have the motive. With his math, he could go about anywhere. McDonald . . .’’ Isley looked away from Lucas, pursed his fat lips, then turned back. ‘‘There are McDonalds who are good friends of mine—same family. Not Wilson, though. There’ve been rumors . . .’’ Again, he paused.
    ‘‘What?’’ Lucas asked.
    ‘‘No comebacks?’’
    ‘‘No comebacks.’’
    ‘‘There’re rumors that he occasionally beats the shit out of his wife,’’ Isley said. ‘‘I mean, she goes to the hospital.’’
    ‘‘Huh.’’
    ‘‘Alcohol, is what you hear,’’ Isley said. ‘‘He’s a binge drinker. Sober for two months, then has to take a few days off.’’
    ‘‘Smart?’’
    ‘‘Pretty smart. Not world-class, but he got through law school with no problem.’’
    ‘‘I didn’t know he was a lawyer.’’
    ‘‘He never worked at it. He’s always been a salesman, and a damn good one. Knows everybody. Everybody . Access to all the old money in town—his family built a mill over on the river, hundred and some years ago, and eventually sold to Pillsbury to go into banking and real estate. Like that.’’
    ‘‘Okay,’’ Lucas said. ‘‘So here’s another question. Everything I’ve heard about him says McDonald’s rich, he comes from an old family, and all that. Why would he kill Kresge, just ’cause Kresge’s gonna merge the bank? He’s got all the money in the world anyway.’’
    ‘‘No, not really,’’ Isley said. He dabbed at his lips with a linen napkin, tossed the napkin aside, and made a steeple out of his fingers. After a moment of silence, he said, ‘‘He’s maybe worth . . . seven or eight million. The older generation was a lot richer, relatively speaking, but there were a lot of kids, and a