Page 132 of Reinventing Cato
Cato gave a short laugh. “Then it’s not going to be all right.”
“Cato—”
“I’m sorry. Look at me, pulling you in when I should be pushing you away. You’re right. You’ve done too much.”
“I don’t want to make this any worse for you. While I’m still at work, I can keep an eye on what’s happening without getting involved. Maybe nudge people in certain directions. If I get suspended, I can’t do anything.”
“What we just did was risky.”
“I know. I’m hoping Aaron tells his agent nothing. You, on the other hand, need to tell your lawyer everything.”
“I don’t want to get you into trouble.”
“I’m already in trouble. I’m not going to abandon you now. I’ll be back on Saturday for the party.”
Cato laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“You’re not going to desert me but you’re not back until Saturday?”
“We both have to work. But if you need me, call.”
“Do you have Skype?”
“No.”
“Download it. And don’t call me on Skype if you’re at work.”
Vigge smiled. “Right.”
~~~
By the time Cato emerged from the lawyer’s office on Monday morning, he was exhausted. Every time he went over the details, he felt more and more despondent. It had to be the oldest defence around, claiming someone was setting you up. How often was it the truth? What motive would he have for killing someone? He shuddered.
Cato buried himself in work, dreading a call from the police. None came, though he knew it was only a matter of time. He had plenty of work to do. Supervising undergrads in Part III Astrophysics was a challenge because they asked tricky questions, but he liked the interaction and it made him reconsider if he wanted to do more teaching. He’d applied for a research fellowship at Cambridge a couple of months ago, but heard nothing.
Then there was NASA. Was he a fool to be considering turning it down? It was the chance of a lifetime. One that wouldn’t come again. He knew Vigge wouldn’t ask him to stay, though Cato wished he would. But if being involved with Cato brought Vigge down, maybe it was over anyway.
In the end, Cato went to see Alistair, his supervisor, and talked the NASA job through with him. Alistair told him not to make a decision yet, to ask for more time. Cato knew working for NASA could be academic anyway if news of his involvement in these murders became public.
~~~
When Vigge called him on Friday, Cato smiled as his answered, anticipating being told what time Vigge was arriving. The party was the next day and Vigge had agreed to stay for the weekend. Skyping had been fun, but the real thing was better.
“Hi,” Cato said.
“Heads up. The police are on their way to ask you to come in to answer more questions.”
He swore. “Couldn’t they just ask them over the phone?”
“They want to catch you off guard.”
Cato gulped. “That doesn’t sound good. I take it Aaron still hasn’t come forward?”
“No. You need to give his name now. Where are you?”
“In my office.”
