Page 116 of Reinventing Cato
“More than there should have been. Less than you might think. I really didn’t count. I told you before I don’t remember all the names. Fewer women than men. Maybe one other woman apart from…Marcie.” Cato’s voice broke on her name. “If she was killed because of me… Oh God. She was, wasn’t she? The guys too.” He wrapped his arms around himself.
“Who was the other woman?”
Cato took a deep breath. “Elise. Studying French at Emmanuel College. Second year. I was with her last June at Emmanuel’s May Ball. Oh God. The police should have asked me that. I mean, she might be in danger. There’s no way the guys can be traced. The one thing we didn’t exchange was numbers. Let me just…” He fiddled with his phone.
“Who are you going to call?”
“A friend of mine. Philippe Rousseau. He knows Elise. He can tell me if she’s okay.”
“All right.”
“I’ll put it on speaker.” Cato chewed his nail as he waited.
“Hi, Cato.”
“Hi, Philippe. I need to ask a favour.”
“Okay. Yes, to the party, by the way.”
“Oh right, okay. Great. Have you seen anything of Elise recently?”
“Elise as in you-were-both-too-drunk-to-walk-in-a-straight-line?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“I saw her a couple of days ago.”
Cato exhaled.
“Why?”
“I had a bad dream. Freaked me out.”
Philippe laughed. “Weirdo. Want me to ask her to the party?”
“God, no. Thanks, mate. Bye.” Cato put his phone down. “Jesus Christ.”
“It looks like Marcie was the first one to be killed. She’s probably, but not definitely, the critical one. Anything you can remember about her might be important.”
“She was cute. Flirty. Laughed at my jokes. That might have been because I was a good tipper. She asked if I wanted to meet up after work and I said yes. I took her back to where I was staying and… We didn’t do a lot of talking.Sheaskedme.” Cato gave a humourless laugh. “The one time it wasn’t me who suggested a hook-up and she got killed for it.”
“Did she mention previous boyfriends?”
“No. What the hell is going on? The killer has to be someone I know, but why? Do you think they’ve been following me?”
“Or tracking you.”
Cato stared at his phone.
“What about the footballer? What’s his name?”
“I didn’t tell DS Neil Hamilton.”
“I know you didn’t. You need to tell us his name.”
“I…can’t.”
Vigge sighed. “You’d rather get arrested and charged with murder?”
