Constable is smirking, the case takes another turn and what the hell happened to cats?

The detective could hear a murmur of voices just behind a corner. One of the constables entered the alley, Wheele waved at him and met him halfway. The old man stayed with his hat on his chest looking at the dead cat.

`This won’t be a standard case,` the detective instructed his subordinate. `The dead is just an ordinary cat, but we will handle it like a homicide.`

The constable smirked a little. `But that should be a case for the property crime squad!`

`I know, I know,` replied Wheele and put his hand on the constable's shoulder.

`But first: that grandpa liked the cat a lot and second: I need a break from that bloody paperwork. It has been driving me crazy. Also, it will give the people from the forensics a chance to test their new equipment,` he smiled. `Put a crime scene rope at the entrance to this alley and send in the crime scene unit and the doctor`, he ordered. `Oh, and advise them to refrain from any misbecoming remarks. The cat was like a family member for him,` he pointed over his shoulder towards Mr Brixton.

The constable smirked again, but when he saw the detective meant every word of it he put on his serious face and disappeared to relay the orders to the rest of the police presence.

I didn’t take long for them to rope off the alley and now the whole place was crowded with the SA6 crime scene squad. Some of them were casting footprints in plaster, others were combing the alley for clues and few even found enough courage to rummage through the pile of compost in the corner.

Pathologist dr. Mureani squatted over remains of the cat. He kept prodding and touching it and wrote his findings into his small notebook. When he finished he waved at detective Wheele.

`So what did you find, doctor?` he asked.

`Well, I have a few preliminary findings so far.`

`I’ll take it.`

`Even though animal anatomy isn’t my forte, I can confidently say that the deceased didn't leave this world by natural means.`

`Cause of death?`

`Severed trachea.`

`Someone cut her throat?`

`Yes,` confirmed the doctor. `That’s correct.`

`When did it happened?`

`About an hour ago, give or take a few minutes.`

`Anything else?`

`I’ve seen cuts like this before.`

`Really? That could be helpful.`

`Don't get excited, detective. I can’t tell you who did it. There are at least a thousand people in this city who know how to do it.`

`Oh.`

`Well when I was young, I helped my father, the Butcher, slaughtering. This is the way how to cut an animals throat to let the blood out as fast as possible. Your normal murderer wouldn't know it, but for a butcher, this is second nature. It's because if you don't get the blood out as fast as possible and as much of it as possible, the meat will spoil faster.`

`Anything else?` asked the detective again.

`Not now. I will probably have more after an autopsy.` With those words, he stood up and waved for his assistant who started to pack the body into a cloth sack for transport.

When he was done he put it on his gurney and disappeared in the direction of the police station followed by the doctor himself.

After about half an hour there was no one left in the ally except the detective and sniffling Mr Brixton.

`Go home, now,` said the detective. `When I have something new I’ll let you know. Otherwise, you would just get in a way and it would slow us down.`

The old man just wiped his eyes and nodded.

`Thanks, detective. I live at 81 Factory Street I. It’s an apartment 319.`

`Good. Go there and get some sleep.`

When Mr Brixton left, detective started thinking about what to do next.

`The best course of action will be to start knocking on doors` he said to himself and went to the nearest house. It was a time-consuming task because there were 25 tiny flats on each floor of each house and each house had 6 floors and because of the overcrowded nature of the SA districts even most of the attics were converted to a large number of impromptu living spaces.

He entered the number 32 and knocked on the first door he found. Nothing happened for a while, then he heard a noise from the inside and the door opened slightly.

`What do you want?` asked a man.

`Detective Cog Wheele from the police station,` he answered and showed him his badge.

`And?` asked the man.

`We are investigating damage to personal property. Someone killed a cat in the ally next to this house.`

`And what the hell does this have to do with me?`

`I’m just asking if you’ve seen anything around.`

`No,` answered the man and slammed the door as loudly as he could.

And that was pretty much a template for most of the conversations he managed to squeeze out of the few people who opened their door. The situation, however, changed as he got to the apartment 605.

`Good evening,` he started. `my name is detective Cog Wheele and I’m investigating a dead cat found in the alley next to this house.`

`Finally someone!` said the middle-aged woman from behind the door.

`What do you mean?` asked Wheele.

`Well, my cat disappeared last week,` she said. `And I’m not the only one. Few of my friends told me their cats disappeared as well.`

`Really?`

`Yes. It has been going on for the last few months.`

`Interesting,` scratched the detective his chin. `Can you give me their names and addresses?`

`Don’t know if I can remember all of them, but I’ll write down what I can.`

She closed the door leaving the detective standing in the corridor. After a few seconds, she opened the door again and asked if she could borrow a pen and paper, because "you know, wouldn’t have anything to wipe my ass if I couldn’t find a newspaper in the trash now and then".

After another fifteen minutes the door opened again and a hand clutching detective’s notebook poked through the door.

`I wrote all of them I could remember.`

`Thank you very much for your cooperation,` said the detective and took the notebook. He noticed, that she didn’t return the pen, but he didn’t mention that. `I hope it will help us with our further inquires.`

`Hope so as well, but if you want to hear my opinion, someone was just hungry,` and she quickly closed the door.

Detective Wheele scanned through the list and thought `This looks more and more interesting.` There were about twenty names there.

`It wouldn’t be wise to question them by myself,` he surmised. `I’ll get back to the office and will have to think it through thoroughly.`