Page 113 of Reinventing Cato
“We’re just having a chat.” The DS smiled at him. “Yes, you can leave at any time. I do need to caution you that you don’t have to say anything when questioned, but it may harm your defence if you fail to say something you later rely on in court.Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Okay?”
No, it wasn’t okay. That caution meant they considered him a suspect.
“We understand you recognised the two men you saw in the TV news bulletin today,” the DS said.
Cato opened his mouth and told them everything he knew. He didn’t mention Vigge, nor did he say anything about the stabbing patterns.
“So you claim you were with someone the night Dewitt was murdered?” the DS said.
“Yes. We were together from eight in the evening to six the following morning. But I can’t tell you his name. He’s not out and he’s a public figure.”
“You can’t prove your whereabouts on either of the occasions when these two men were killed.” The DS stared him.
“I’ve told you where I was.”
The more questions they asked, the more they pushed, the more worried Cato became. He thought about saying he’d had enough and was leaving, but was aware that wouldn’t look good. They asked for his phone. He offered his laptop as well. He told them his passwords. He didn’t know how much more open he could be. He should have asked a solicitor to come with him, but didn’t that make him look guilty? He had nothing to hide—well, except about Vigge.
By the time they’d done with him, he was exhausted. They’d asked the same questions more than once, presumably trying to catch him out, or rile him or something. He was glad he’d asked Vigge to make it official about those texts before this had happened. He didn’t get the feeling they thought he was a killer. But he wasn’t fooled by the chatty nature of the interview. Nor had he been put at ease. The unfortunate truth was that Cato had had sex with two guys who were now dead and he had no one who would give him an alibi.
The pair left the room for a while, took his phone and laptop away and Cato tried not to look anxious. He didn’t even want to drink the water they’d given him because he worried they’d see his fingers shaking. He just sat motionless and stared at his hands. But then, wouldn’t it be normal to be worried? He folded his arms on the table and laid his head on them.I am scared shitless.
When they came back, they brought another folder with them. The first photo they showed him was of the back of the guy stabbed with the Cygnus constellation. Cato winced.
“Recognise that?” the DS asked.
“The pattern you mean?”Don’t be a smart Alec.“It’s Cygnus. Ten stars.”
“And this?”
“Lynx.” Cato’s shoulders bowed.
“And this?”
He gasped when he saw the mass of stab wounds in the centre of someone’s back. “Oh God.”
“Another constellation?” the DS asked.
“No.”
“Maybe you recognise her face.”
The DC showed him a photo of a young woman and Cato clapped his hand over his mouth.
“Do you know her?” the DS asked.
Cato nodded. “She’s dead?” He wanted to throw up.
“Yes, she’s dead,” the DS said. “When did you last see her?”
“Last summer. She worked in Devolution. A bar in Brighton. Er…Mandy… Marnie… Marcie! Marcie. That’s what she said her name was.”
“Marcie Nolan. Did you have sex with her?”
No, no, no!“Yes.”
“Did you kill her?”
“No.”
