Some things seemed perfectly natural when no one questioned them, but once suspicion took root, countless inconsistencies could be found.
First of all, the sashimi brought by that blind lawyer, Matt, was already more than enough for everyone there. It could have filled them up even as the main course, not to mention the large amount of meat Steve and Jason had brought.
Under those circumstances, during Los Angeles rush hour, Schiller still drove all the way to the supermarket to buy ingredients and cook. It seemed far too deliberate.
He and Matt had obviously arranged this long ago. There was no way he did not know Matt would bring enough food. Besides, sashimi only got less fresh the longer it sat around. Going out to buy ingredients, then heating oil and cooking, wasted too much time. That was not something a true enthusiast would do.
And more importantly, Schiller's Cantonese food was not actually very good. At the very least, it could not compare to what they were eating now.
If he had to describe it, the dishes Schiller stir-fried all tasted like sweet soy sauce. They were not bad, but they were hardly amazing either.
If Tim had never eaten this restaurant's food, he might have thought it was pretty good. In fact, that was exactly what he had thought the night before last. Since he had never tried the authentic stuff, he thought Schiller's cooking was decent too.
But after eating this today, he immediately noticed something was wrong.
Of course, it was not impossible that Schiller was simply a terrible cook, someone who knew how to eat but not cook. But Tim thought carefully about it. The night before last, Schiller himself had barely touched the food he made. He knew it was not good, so