She looks around.

"...If we arrange things right, we can probably make it look like an accident," she offers hesitantly.

This seems to have been the right thing to say.

She grabs the wrench, wraps it in an oily rag, stuffs the whole bundle in her pocket, and climbs the engine. "Sorry, baby," she says, patting it. "I promise I'll put you back together afterward." She starts unbolting a section of the casing. "Can you drag him a couple feet closer?" she asks Erika. "And then go away and come back when you hear the crunch, and you will find me sobbing uncontrollably at the site of a horrible accident."

"Yeah, I can do that," she says, and does that.

She waits until Erika is gone.

There is a crunch.

It's a pretty horrible accident. The engine casing was heavy enough to more or less obliterate the top half of Obadiah. The wrench, having made contact with the part of the engine that that casing was supposed to cover, is an ash-flecked lump of red-hot slag gradually melting its way into the floor. And Tina is doing a very convincing fit of uncontrollable weeping.

"Holy fuck," Erika says, because she's probably supposed to be pretending to be surprised. "What happened?"

"Ran in - while I was working on the engine - I told him to stay back but I don't think he heard me - he knew better, he did, I don't know what he was thinking..."

"...Should I--get someone?"

Sobbing too uncontrollably, cannot answer.

Yeah okay.

No point letting these dramatics go to waste, and the more initiative they show regarding the death the less it looks like they have to hide.

...But there are other sensible precautions.

She shucks her coat and dumps it somewhere unobtrusive in her room, then goes to hammer on the shuttle door.

Fortunately no one in there is naked. Right now. "What is it?" Bea asks, irritation warring with concern.

"There's been an accident in the engine room."

Bea actually opens the door at that, does a double-take at seeing Erika without her brown coat, and asks "Is Tina--"

"Distraught but physically unharmed--but she had a visitor, and he's, um. Not."

"Ah."

"Good lord," her client says, coming up behind her. "How bad is it?"

"A huge section of engine casing fell on him. He's sort of--paste. From the waist up."

"Oh, hell--Garret, can you--take care of calling the authorities--I should see to our mechanic--"

"Alright," he says, pale and visibly shaken. He borrows her Cortex, and Bea heads down to the engine room.

There's Tina, crying. There's her visitor, in exactly the described condition.

Eugh.

"Tina?"

She had half expected to see Erika's coat draped over her, for shock or something. But no, that mystery is still unexplained.

She looks up, but continues crying.

"Erika told us what happened--my client's calling for--well, the authorities, not exactly an ambulance, but--do you want a shoulder to cry on?"

Nod nod nod.

Hug.

Crying.

Hugs hugs hugs.

The authorities show up and retrieve the body. They are initially a little suspicious that someone like Obadiah Stane managed to fuck up that badly in an engine room, but the story is highly plausible and the word of a Registered Companion and her upper-crusty client go more than far enough to smooth the non-engineer police's feathers.

They do, however, trot out Tina's full name: Antina Eden Lalonde Stark.

Tina is already kind of clinging to Bea, but she clings a little harder when the 'Stark' part comes out.