Our Insecurities

Chapter Thirteen

“Come on in,” Mrs. Dike called out as a knock sounded on the door. If she guessed right, that was supposed to be Mr. Philips, the vice principal.

She hadn’t hesitated to give the girls the accolade they deserve for being proactive. It wasn’t much success but they had at least done something worthwhile. Now it was her turn to put in her own two cents.

She adjusted her posture on the black swivel chair as Mr. Philips made his way into the office. The middle aged man definitely looked his fifty-two years of age with the gray hair that mercilessly lay sporadically on his head.

She waited patiently as he settled comfortably on one of the two leather chairs reserved for her visitors. There was no need to rush. She had enough time to talk with the man.

“So,” she began when she felt he’d had enough time to settle. “You are well aware of the incidents that have become the tradition in this school.”

He nodded in response. Who wasn’t aware of that. The incident had threatened the sanity of both him and the principal especially after the last message that revealed the affair between a staff member and a student.

He was and still is gravely disappointed at the young literature teacher. He was the one that got him the job in a bid to help, but Mr. Sarkodie had to throw his efforts out the window. Now he stood at risk of being served a sack letter anytime soon. The school had only sent him home on an indefinite suspension and the student in question was penalized with a week suspension due to expire by the next week.

“Then it’s safe to believe that you know I’m doing everything possible to find the culprits.” He nodded again. Mrs. Dike hadn’t bothered to rope him in on the investigation. She felt the man already had enough on his plate. She only just informed him of her plan to try and find the culprit first before involving the authorities. She owed him that as the vice principal.

“Which is exactly why you’re here,” she resumed after a moment. “We have reasons to believe that whoever tampered with the projector slides had access to the room key one way or the other. There was no foul play with the lock which only points in that direction.”

“And you think I did it?” Mr. Philips questioned indignantly. He hoped she didn’t. Was that how low she thought of him? It was at times like this he abhorred the fact that his superior was younger. He was less qualified than she was education wise, but he was still the older one here.

“Of course not,” Mrs. Dike countered. “You’re not under any suspicion whatsoever.”

“Why am I here then? This looks like an interrogation.”

“Because it is.” She watched his eyebrow pucker in puzzlement. Mrs. Dike enjoyed times like this when she made him uncomfortable and confused. He always thought that because he was the older one, it didn’t matter if she was his boss or not. She often wondered at his state of mind. He was only seven years older, the same age as her husband. It wasn’t a big deal.

“As I said. It is an interrogation and you will answer all my questions truthfully,” she pushed further, enjoying the situation a little too much. She cleared her throat a little loudly, a reminder of what was at stake if she didn’t get serious with this.

“Do you still have the spare key in your possession?” The intimidation was gone from her voice, replaced by something akin to seriousness. Her eyes were focused on him, determined to pick up any body language that would contradict his words.

“Of course. Why do you ask?” He blinked more than usual, rubbing behind his neck. That wasn’t what he expected. The question caught him completely off guard.

“Are you sure about that?” Mrs. Dike asked again. She wasn’t too sure he was being truthful especially with the change in posture.

Mr. Philips averted his gaze and hesitated as though he was thinking his next words through. “The key is still in my possession. Do you have any reason to believe it’s not?” He queried. His attempt to appear confident once more didn’t go unnoticed nor did the slight quiver of his limbs.

“Isn’t the circumstance reason enough?” Mrs. Dike asked instead of giving a reply. She was becoming intolerant to his blatant lie. Mr. Philips must think her a fool to believe for a second that she couldn’t see through his supposed composure.

“Are you by any chance lying right now?” she inquired, deciding to give him a benefit of doubt.

“Definitely not. Why would I? I have nothing to hide,” he blustered.

“You’re lying Mr. Philips.” Her tone carried impatience. “Your body language says it all. You’re lying right now thereby impeding our investigation. Don’t you want the culprit to be caught?”

His lips drew together in a thin line. He looked like a dear caught in the headlights. The situation was a case of caught red-handed. “I lost the key,” he admitted and lowered his head. Those few words had been difficult to force out. Mrs. Dike always emphasized on his carelessness and the need to improve. This alone was going to lead to another hour of reprimand.

Mrs. Dike relaxed on the chair at his admittance. It wasn’t the best news, but they had somewhere to begin.

“And how long ago was that?”

“A week after resumption.”

That had been two weeks ago, she calculated in her head. And he hadn’t thought it was a good idea to notify her? She barely stopped herself from voicing her thoughts.

“How did it happen?” She sat up straight and placed her elbow on the desk. She motioned for him to go on.

“I definitely left my office with the key that day,” he started, thoughtfully. “When I got home though, it wasn’t with me anymore. I searched my car for it but it wasn’t there.”

“You want me to believe that a single key fell off your bunch of keys without you noticing?”

Mr. Philips shook his head. His face looked extremely guilty. “It wasn’t part of a bunch. Just a single key.”

Mrs. Dike stared at her vice with unbelieve. He just had to take his carelessness to greater heights. Who carries around a single key? Who doesn’t have common sense to add a key to a bunch? Definitely not her vice. She refused to believe that. But the truth was blatantly staring her in the face.

“It could have falling off between your office and the car then?” she asked, refusing to pursue his carelessness further. She felt she had preached enough about that. He should put in the work if he wanted to change.

“I believe so.”

“Thank you for your time Mr. Philips,” she dismissed immediately. “You should work on your carelessness. This will be the last time I say it.”

She watched him leave the office as gears turned in her head. She hadn’t gotten as much as she expected from her talk with Mr. Philips. The missing key explained how the culprit got into the room without difficulty. It didn’t help much with finding the culprit. The key could be in the possession of anybody. Hundreds of people walked the path between his office and the parking lot everyday.

She sighed heavily at how impossible and herculean the task ahead looked.  She was running out of time and there was nothing there to hang her hat on at the moment.

Maybe this was a bad idea, she surmised.

She went ahead to beckon for her next appointment. No matter how desolate the process looked, she was not going to give up. Not yet.

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