“Where were you last night, Mr. Zint? Were you out in any Las Vegas clubs? Did you go to a storage facility to take receipt of a tank full of sharks?”
“What kind of question is that?”
Paige wasn’t sure whether he meant her question or Christopher’s.
Zint stood up. “This is getting boring. Come on, both of you. You’re upsetting my guests. If you’re not going to have a drink, then I’m not sure that I want you here anymore.”
“Mr. Zint,” Christopher said. “If you won’t answer any of our questions, you have to realize how suspicious that looks.”
“It’s not my problem if you can’t do your jobs,” Zint said.
“Mr. Zint, I’m going to give you one last chance,” Christopher said. “We have evidence of you making a death threat towards one of the dead women. You have the skills and the opportunity to have carried out the murders. If you won’t provide an alibi here, I’ll bring you in and see if you do so in an interrogation room.”
“You don’t want to do that,” Zint said. “My lawyers will destroy you.” He looked over to Paige. “Of course, you’ll be only too happy, won’t you? Another woman trying to take down a successful man. That’s all this is. Another witch hunt!”
Christopher moved towards Zint, and Paige wasn’t sure if the magician threw a punch at him or just staggered drunkenly in Christopher’s direction. Either way, Christopher twisted out of the way of the movement, slamming Zint face down onto the card table, sending playing cards scattering. His guests jumped back from the table, but mostly they looked faintly satisfied, as if they’d always kind of hoped that something like this would happen to their host.
“That’s enough,” Christopher said. “I’m done trying to be patient with you. Mark Zint, you’re under arrest.”