Deadly Valentine

Chapter Seven

The next morning, I called Chris. “Can I meet you today?” I asked.

“I’m going to be very busy at the station.”

“What if I came there? I have something you might want to see.”

“Is it related to the case?”

“Of course,”

“Alright then, I’ll see you at ten thirty.”

Although murders inside student halls of residence were almost unheard of, they did not interrupt the normal routine at the university. The order of business remained the same after Suzan’s murder. I had a two hour lecture from eight to ten.  I stepped out of my room wearing a white chiffon blouse and bright red skirt with black ballet flats. I doubt you’d find anyone who loved bright colors nearly as much as I did. The only thing I loved more than walking around like a blooming flower was food. I never carried a handbag without snacks because I always needed them. That day, I made sure to add to my stock, which created a tent in my cross bag but I didn’t care what anyone thought when it came to food.

As I walked, I pondered on the next course of action. If Chris believed me, they’d question Sara again but if he didn’t, I’d have to find the killer without any help. I was stuck and it seemed to be the only evidence connecting a suspect to the crime. I felt like there was something I was overlooking but couldn’t put my mind on it.

It was possible that someone was framing Sara because while the handwriting looked similar, there were a few differences. It could either mean she attempted to create differences or someone was framing her. In any case if it was Sara, she’d have been more careful. But then again, she didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind so anything was possible.

In class, I was unable to concentrate as I kept thinking about what to do. I wondered if it was time to give up but I had thrown in the towel so many times already. Maybe, I was not meant for real detective work. If the trained police could easily get defeated then what about me, a twenty year old ordinary girl who relied on knowledge from fiction?

“What’s wrong?” my neighbor on the left asked. She was petite, dark skinned with long dreadlocks. She looked at me through her spectacles.

“Nothing,” I replied, glancing at my watch. 8:45. I put my notebook in the bag and stalked out of the room. It is useless being in class when your mind is elsewhere. The lecturer in the room didn’t care if a student moved out while he was teaching. In fact, he never made us sign attendance lists. There were rumors that he did not even mark our scripts. It was not hard to believe that because everyone got the same range of marks from the time he started teaching us. In the first year, I’d scored 72% in his paper and in all preceding semesters, my marks ranged from 70-75%. I never scored lowered or higher.

In my room, I had breakfast and took a nap. I was woken up by animated conversation in the hallway. Seeing it was already ten, I jumped off my bed and washed my face at the sink. I applied bright red lipstick and it make up to hide the fact that I looked dead.
I put on my clothes and checked my bag for the two notes then made my way to the university police station. To my dismay, the big woman was the first I saw. She gave me a puzzled look as if she was trying to remember where she had seen me but went her way. I was in luck.

“Good morning,” I said to the man at the reception.

“Morning. How can I help you?”

“I’d like to see Officer Chris.” I realized I didn’t know his last name.

“May I know the reason?” He asked with a smile on his face. He was an older guy but not the perverted kind. The kind with a good heart. “He has been helping with an investigation and I need to inquire if there have been any new developments.”

“Name?”

“Val Kamara,” he dialed a number and spoke to the phone.

“He’ll be out in a minute, take a seat on that bench.”

The wooden bench was right under the window. I went and sat next to a girl who was lost in her phone.

“Thank you,” I told him, smiling genuinely.

Three minutes later, Chris joined me and asked me to step outside with him. He smelled so good I felt like hugging him and sniffing his wonderful scent. At the door, I let him go out first, using the chance to check him out. I cursed myself. Should’ve gone first so he could check me out.

I fished out the notes from my bag and handed them to him.

“Someone threatened you?” he asked.

“Not only that,” I answered. “They also thought it was a good idea to hit me on the head yesterday.

“What? And you didn’t think of reporting?”

“I’m alright.”

“This is why you should let the police do their job. This note could be forged and someone is trying to frame because it appears she has a strong motive.”

“So you don’t think it’s her?”

“I’ll keep the notes and we’ll continue investigating. Meanwhile, stay out of it. You think you’re so bright and can figure out anything but murders are not things to be played with.”

I was done with people underestimating me, thinking this was just a little hobby. I was tired of people not caring about the need for justice.

“You police are very incompetent,” I retorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you have a hundred unsolved cases. I’ll actually be shocked if you actually solve it.”

Chris shook his head and watched as I stomped away. I wasn’t going to let him yell at me yet the police force was rotten.