The Valedictorian (Sword and Lead Book 3)

by Rhiley McCabe

  “Good morning, Detective...” he waited for Harry to fill the blank.

  “Harry Rogers.”

  They both sat down, and the CSO went straight to business. He didn’t offer Harry a beverage as the dean had done. As uniformed officers, the CSO understood that this wasn’t a courtesy call, and it would be unprofessional of Harry to share a cup of coffee with him. “Detective Rogers, the dean already told me to expect your visit. How may I be of assistance?”

  Harry appreciated the urgency with which the University was acting. It was a clear indication that the University was eager for results – and a reminder of the task ahead. “I’d like to know if there are security posts at the hostels.”

  The CSO was tapping the keyboard of the computer on his desk. He looked up to Harry and adjusted his glasses. “There are no security posts at the hostels. We make use of campus police to patrol them.” He returned his gaze to the computer and made a noisy click on the keyboard. “The two officers on duty at the time Miss James’ body was found are waiting for you in the briefing room.”

  Harry stood up to leave, and the CSO got up to walk him to the door. He gave Harry a firm handshake, and the CSO’s powerful grip reminded Harry of a question he had intended to ask. “Are there security cameras in the hostel hallway?”

  “No, there aren’t. But there’s one at the hostel entrance.” There was a look of disappointment on his face. He wished he and his officers could have been of more assistance. “We have gone through the tape from last night, but we found nothing unusual. I will be glad to give you access to the tape.” The CSO cleared his throat and spoke with a suppressed voice that was a little short of a whisper “Miss James was an excellent student. And everyone says she was a good kid. I hope you find her killer, Detective Rogers.”

  Harry lowered his gaze from the CSO’s eyes down to the nametag pinned to one of the breast pockets of his brown khaki shirt. The nametag had P.J Bryant written in bold letters. “I’m sorry for your loss,” Harry said, and wondered how many more times he would have to offer these words of consolation to the grieving members of Miss James’ family, and to friends and associates saddened by her death. “I will do my best,” he added as he walked out of the office and made his way to the briefing room to interview the waiting officers.

  Detective Rogers’ interview with the officers was brief and no more helpful than his interview with the Chief Security Officer. The officers didn’t see or hear anything unusual. They had been walking their beat when they heard screams around 5 AM and moved in the direction of the commotion. They had found Jennifer’s roommate outside the room and the hallway filled with students. It was the officers who called in the paramedics who pronounced Jennifer dead.

  The autopsy report had placed the time of her death between 11 PM – 12 AM, which meant that the murder had taken place at least four hours before Jennifer’s body was found. Harry knew that was enough time for the suspect to have covered his or her tracks. The interview with the campus police officers didn’t point Harry in any direction regarding the murder, and it made him anxious. First, the autopsy failed to provide any direction as to a potential suspect, and now the campus police were of no use. The universe wasn’t conspiring in his favor, and he knew it was going to be a long day.

  CHAPTER 5

  Detective Harry Rogers stood outside the campus security office and lit a cigarette. He looked at his wristwatch; it was mid-day, and the sun was still soft on the skin. He took out his wallet from his pocket and brought out the piece of paper the dean handed to him the day before. It was time to call Jennifer’s roommate. He desperately hoped she has recovered from the shock of finding Jennifer covered in blood. Harry understood that the trauma of such a gory sight might take years to forget. He had lost his dog when he was ten, and the image of his German Shepherd covered in blood had taken years to forget. If it took him over a decade to stop having random flashbacks of his dog covered in blood, Harry couldn’t imagine how long it would take Jennifer’s roommate to forget what she’d seen. It was possible she might never forget.

  “Hello, good afternoon, I’m Detective Harry Rogers of the NYPD,” Harry threw the half-smoked cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. “Am I speaking with Miss Amanda Johnson? Hope you’re holding up all right? I was hoping I could speak with you today regarding the murder of your roommate, Miss James…” Harry began to walk towards the building that housed the office of the dean. “That’s okay, I will meet you by 2 PM at the office of the Student Dean. Thank you.”

  Harry decided to check in with the dean. He was hoping that maybe a student might have come forward with some useful information about the murder. He also wanted to confirm if the University had communicated with Jennifer’s family because he intended to interview them tomorrow.

  Harry had to wait thirty minutes for the dean, who was on the phone with the New York Times. His meeting with the dean was as short as the meetings he’d had with the campus security officers, and Harry couldn’t help but notice that there was a short and unproductive pattern to all his meetings today. The dean told him that an announcement had been made to the effect that any person within the University with any information on the murder should come forward or write an anonymous letter to the Student Dean’s office. The dean also confirmed that the University had sent a delegate to pay a condolence visit to Jennifer’s family. Harry took down Jennifer’s family’s address in his note pad before leaving. He still had a little over one hour before his meeting with Jennifer’s roommate, so he decided to use that time to look through Jennifer’s room.

  The melancholy of Jennifer’s murder was still fresh on the campus. The waiting room had a sprinkling of students with forlorn faces quietly seated in small groups. Harry climbed the stairs to the second floor were Jennifer’s room was located. The hallway was deserted, and he could hear low voices coming from the rooms as he walked down the hall to Jennifer’s room. Just two days ago, many of the hostel residents would have exchanged pleasantries and traded jokes with Jennifer, only to be startled out of their beds the same night by a piercing scream that announced the cold-blooded murder just down the hall. Harry knew it would take some time before the residents could feel safe again.

  The room was still an active crime scene, and the door had the yellow crime scene barricade placed over it. Harry took off one end of the tape and opened the door. He took a closer look at the doorknob to check if there had been any sign of forced entry, but there was none. The room smelt of blood, and Harry was careful not to step on the blood trail. The bloodstained bed sheet covered the bed and her bedroom slippers were carefully arranged at the foot of her bed. He couldn’t find the purse he had seen the previous day, and he assumed it must have been taken away for forensic examination. Harry noticed that except for the missing purse, everything else appeared to be the same. The neatly arranged books on the reading table and the bookshelf above the table remained how he had left them.

  He walked to the closet and looked at the pictures on the closet door. It was the first time he had looked at Jennifer’s image, except in the pictures of the crime scene, and he had only looked at those with the sole purpose of finding a clue. This time he was looking at a face that wasn’t bland from the coldness of death. He noticed her rich dark skin, conspicuous forehead, and a small nose fitted perfectly into her round face. She had curvy, full lips and deep brown eyes. Harry saw another picture of Jennifer in her matriculation gown standing next to an older lady to whom she bore a striking resemblance. It was a picture Jennifer of and her mother, taken on Jennifer’s matriculation day. Harry felt a wave of sudden anger as he looked at their happy faces. He wondered how anyone could have been so cruel to rob the James’ of their daughter and stole their smiles. He brought out a pair of plastic gloves and pulled them on. He opened the closet and looked through the neatly arranged clothes. Jennifer had meticulously arranged her clothes in order of sizes and colors. Her shoes were arranged in descending order at the bottom of the closet. Harry fo
und nothing valuable to the case in the closet and closed the door. He looked at his wristwatch and saw that it was twenty minutes before his meeting with Jennifer’s roommate. He took off the gloves and threw them in the dustbin that had been emptied for forensic examination. He was inches away from the door when he noticed something poking from underneath Jennifer’s pillowcase. He moved nearer for a closer look and saw the outline of what looked like a book. He pulled it from underneath the pillowcase and saw that it was a diary. He wondered how the forensics could have missed such a valuable item from the crime scene, but he was glad he had found it. He knew that Jennifer’s diary would, at some point, play a part in unraveling the mystery behind her murder. He shut the door and decided to get two cups of coffee on his way to his final interview.

  CHAPTER 6

  Harry stood up as Amanda Johnson walked into the briefing room located near the dean’s office. He had been waiting for her for a little more than twenty minutes. He motioned for her to take a seat and offered her a cup of coffee, which she accepted and mumbled what he assumed was “Thank you”. She wore a pink colored hoodie, black baggy jeans and a pair of white sneakers. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the skin beneath was swollen and shadowed. Harry deduced that must be as a result of a long period of crying. He felt sorry for the sad figure of the young lady in front of him. She was devastated by the loss of her roommate. Her gloomy appearance suggested to Harry that she and Jennifer must have had a relationship that extended beyond that of casual roommates. Harry decided to give her a few minutes to take some sip of the coffee he had offered her before starting the interview.

  After a few minutes of quietly sipping their coffees, Amanda was the one who broke the silence. “So, you’re the detective investigating Jennifer’s murder?” she inquired.

  “Yes, I’m Detective Rogers. I’m leading the investigation into the murder of Miss James.” Harry brought out a note pad and a pen from the side pocket of his suit. “I would like to ask you some questions about Miss James and the night of the murder.”

  Amanda put down the cup of coffee and adjusted her sitting position. “Have you found who killed Jennifer?” she asked with unmasked curiosity.

  “Not yet.” Harry was taken aback by her question. It was barely forty-eight hours since Jennifer’s murder, and the expectation that the culprit should have been apprehended was already coming from all quarters. First, it was the campus security chief, now Miss Johnson. He knew it was only a matter of time before the dean and the chief of police would be breathing down his neck. And soon, the press would start calling to find out if there was a suspect in custody, and by then the entire state of New York would be breathing down his neck. “But I was hoping that you may be able to tell me something about Miss James that could assist the police in apprehending the culprit.”

  Amanda took a sip of her coffee and nodded.

  “What was your relationship with Miss James? Did you have a close relationship with her?” Harry flipped open his note pad to a fresh page.

  “Yes, we were good friends.”

  “Where were you the night she was murdered?”

  “I was at a party with some friends.”

  “Those friends of yours, are they also friends of Miss James?”

  “Yes. Jennifer was cool with them. But they weren’t as close to Jennifer as I was.” Amanda took a sip of her coffee and held the cup with both hands.

  “Why didn’t Miss James attend the party with you?”

  “She said she had a meeting with her academic advisor.”

  “This meeting was at night?” Harry asked with a tone that concealed his surprise.

  “Yes. She said she was meeting with him at 8 PM. Jennifer had a close relationship with her academic advisor.”

  “By close relationship, you mean what?” Harry asked as he leaned into the desk.

  “She visited her academic advisor a lot, especially during these past weeks,” she said with a shrug.

  “So, this academic advisor, do you know him?”

  “I don’t know his name, but I know he was her sociology professor,” Amanda replied with a hushed tone. She had a look that suggested to Harry that she felt she was saying too much.

  He knew he had to make her feel comfortable, because this was the first useful information he was getting regarding the murder. And he had every intention of getting all valuable information out of Amanda. Sensing her discomfort, Harry decided to change his line of questioning. “What time did you leave your room on the night of the murder?”

  “Around 9 PM”

  “That would mean Miss James left the room before you. Did she say where she was going?”

  “She said she was going to visit her academic advisor.”

  Harry scribbled something in his note pad and looked up to Amanda. “Can you remember what she was wearing?”

  “She was wearing jeans and jacket.”

  “This party you attended, when did it start?”

  “A little before midnight,” Amanda replied, after taking a few seconds to remember.

  “But why did you leave your room at 9 PM?”

  “I was going to meet up with my friends at their place.”

  “And you didn’t return until 5 AM when you saw her body?”

  Amanda began to sob. The question had brought back the gory picture of Jennifer’s death, and the picture poked a stick at the fresh wound Jennifer’s death had caused. “Yes, I didn’t return until 5 AM.”

  Harry brought out a fresh white handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to her. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He allowed her to wipe her tears before asking, “Did you and Miss James had any fight or argument in the weeks preceding her death?”

  “No. Jennifer and I were cool. We’ve been friends for three years and even if fought we didn’t stay mad at each other for long.” She began to sob again, louder this time. “You can’t possibly think I could have killed Jennifer,” she said between sobs. “She was like a sister to me.”

  Harry didn’t think she had killed Jennifer. Nothing about Amanda made her seem capable of committing such a despicable act. He was only doing his job, and that required questioning and suspecting her roommate, who was the first person to see her in a pool of blood. “I didn’t say you hurt her,” Harry said, slowly, as if speaking to an eight-year-old. “You said you two were close?”

  Amanda blew into the handkerchief and nodded.

  “Do you know anyone who may have wanted her harm her?”

  “No. Jennifer was such a sweet girl. Everyone loved her.”

  “Do you know if she had a boyfriend or any guy she was closed to?”

  Harry noticed a sudden change in Amanda’s countenance. She seemed unwilling to answer the question before saying, “Yes, she had a boyfriend.”

  Harry inquired into the nature of Jennifer’s relationship with her boyfriend, but Amanda was very sketchy. She refused to say much. He was only able to get the boyfriend’s name and some vague information that suggested that there had been some friction in Jennifer’s relationship with her boyfriend weeks before her death.

  The interview with Amanda had set Harry in the direction of two more people he had to interview to unravel the mystery of Jennifer’s murder. Harry knew that between Jennifer’s boyfriend and her academic advisor, someone held the answers to the questions everyone was asking. He lighted a cigarette, took a puff, and slowly exhaled. He hadn’t smoked all day, and he felt a sense of satisfaction as he took another drag. Harry drove out of the University feeling less anxious than he had felt when he drove in that morning.

  CHAPTER 7

  Harry was on his desk at the precinct with an open page of Jennifer’s diary in front of him.

  That morning he had decided to stop by the office to update his chief on the progress of the investigation. He knew he was yet to make any discovery that the chief, the University, and Jennifer’s family would consider progress. He, however, wanted to brief the chief so that he could get him off his back.
The chief was in a meeting, and Harry decided to take a peek into Jennifer’s diary while he waited.

  Harry noticed that the diary looked brand new despite being over a year old. The diary didn’t contain a recount of her daily activities written in monologues by a bedside lamp at the end of the day. It only contained a log of her daily schedule, and this made it easier to surf through. Harry turned the pages to the month she was murdered and examined her schedule. Jennifer’s daily activities could be summarized to classes during the day, meetings, chores, and occasionally hanging out with friends. The month of her murder, Harry noticed that she had met with her academic advisor for at least three times a week. He was sure that such frequent visits weren’t standard University protocol. He also noticed that in the week that preceded her murder, she had met with the same person on three different occasions. Harry was writing the name in his note pad when the chief called for him.

  The meeting with the chief was quick, but by no means painless. The chief had been berated by his superiors over the increased crime rate in his division and he was desperate for Harry to solve the case so that he and his precinct could have a reprieve. The University board had also been demanding an answer, and the dean had even called the chief to ask if there was a suspect in custody. Harry had barely sat down before he was already on his way out of his chief’s office.

  Harry drove to Harlem to see Jennifer’s family. It was standard police protocol for the Detective investigating a murder to visit the family of the victim to introduce himself. But aside from protocol, Harry felt a personal responsibility to visit the family to pay his respects. The neighborhood was familiar to Harry. He had been there on different occasions on police business, and also on personal business. Harry felt the familiar wave of anger stir in him as he walked to the block where Jennifer’s family lived. He wasn’t angry because he knew that he would once again be asked if he had caught the killer. The question didn’t make him angry – after all, it was his responsibility to bring the culprit to justice. If he felt anger at anything, it would be at the unrealistic expectations that motivated the question. Harry’s anger was at the killer for subjecting Jennifer’s family to the horrific experience of losing their daughter.