Page 139 of Reinventing Cato
“Hey, stop panicking. Why hide the letter opener if he isn’t done? The more people he kills, the more risk there is of him getting caught.”
Cato shivered. “I feel like I should be all altruistic here and tell you that for your own sake, you should have nothing more to do with me. Or I could pretend to be pissed off about the fact that you have a bigger cock than me and tell you we’re done.”
“You’re not going to dump me for either of those reasons.”
As they turned the corner into Selwyn Road, Cato saw three police cars parked close to the house.
“Shhhit,” Vigge muttered.
“Walk away,” Cato said. “They won’t have noticed your car. You can’t afford to be seen with me.”
Vigge hesitated.
“If you get suspended, what help are you then? Go!”
“They’ll be doing a search. Watch what they move, touch or want to take. Call me when they’ve left.”
Vigge turned round and Cato kept walking toward the house. A policewoman stood by the door.
“What’s happening?” Cato asked.
“Do you live here?”
“Yes. My name’s Cato Smith.”
She took him inside and he was shown a copy of the search warrant and led up to his room where three men were going through his things. Cato listened as one of them told him why they were searching and what his rights were, about evidence they might need to seize to prevent it from being concealed, lost, damaged, altered or destroyed.Too late.All he could think about was that letter opener and how close he’d come to disaster if Vigge hadn’t found it. Cato leaned back against the wall to stop himself falling over.
He stood and watched silently as the officers went through his things. They checked everything from his violin cases to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. When they took something from there in a plastic bag, Cato’s heart sank.Rohypnol?I should have thought to look in there.Every pocket in his clothing was searched, all the drawings and diagrams and equations on his walls were unpinned and checked on the back, his bed was stripped, his mattress examined. A lot of photographs were taken. Should he be photographing them doing this?
All his drawers were pulled out and emptied. His toys were tipped onto the floor and Cato flinched at the sight of dildos and butt plugs caught up in the harnesses. They were bagged up for removal.Christ!If they looked at the back of the chest of drawers, would they see tape marks? He hoped like hell that he and Vigge hadn’t missed anything, that nothing had been added since they’d left, that what they’d taken from his bathroom wasn’t anything bad.
The police were thorough and mostly careful. Cato said nothing and didn’t move from his spot. He wasn’t sure whether he should show righteous indignation or not. He was furious, but if he didn’t keep his temper, he’d make things worse.
Finally, the officers left. Cato couldn’t help wondering if they’d been tipped off about the letter opener. Once he was absolutely certain they’d gone, he texted Vigge, put his room back to rights, then went down to the kitchen. There were a couple of strangers in there, drinking with Sam and Pedro.It’s one of these two guys that I thought were friends.His heart lurched.
“Music!” Cato made himself smile. “It’s not a funeral.”
“What the hell was that about?” Pedro stared at him. “We were just wondering if we needed to cancel.”
“Drugs.” Cato gave a heavy sigh. “They were tipped off I was supplying poppers. I’ve never even tried one.”What did they take out of my bathroom?“I suspect it might be an undergrad I had issues with who wants to cause trouble for me. Bloody heavy handed of the police though.” He didn’t take his eyes off Pedro. “They took my room apart. Went through all my clothes, took every drawer out of the chest of drawers. I thought they were going to dismantle the thing.”
Pedro laughed. “Good luck doing that with mine. It’d never go back together again.”
Maybe it was too much to hope that he’d see some flicker of guilt or interest. Pedro’s face showed nothing. The music started, the heavy beat throbbing under his feet.
“How much do I owe for the food and drink? And who? You or Sam?”
“Sam.”
“How much? I’ll Pingit.”
Sam told him and Cato transferred the amount he owed. “Thanks again for going to buy everything we needed.”
“Ha! We drank the good beer and left you the rubbish, so we’re even,” Sam told him with a grin. “Anything need to go in the oven?”
“When a few more have arrived.”
Cato chatted as if he didn’t have a worry in the world while two of his greatest worries stood drinking close to him. The pair had access to his room before he’d changed the lock and after, through the attic. Though Max and Louise had been in there on their own too. Max, while Cato made tea, and Louise because Sam and Pedro had let her in. Maybe he shouldn’t be assuming it had to be Sam or Pedro. But… He couldn’t see either Max or Louise killing people.
