Wrongful Dismissal

Chapter 3

The next day Mason met with the Senior Inspector of Police, Timar Johnson.
"I want to go to the university and talk to some of the people there and have a look around. Of course I need your in." He stated unemotionally to Timar.
"Of course, yeah man, no problem, anything that you want."
"Thanks."
"I gotta tell you that when we got back to the station with the news that Ceyon Montcliffe had been murdered the entire police station was in an uproar. I never, in my entire career, saw grown men cry like babies. So many of the police had been taught by Ceyon. He was an inspiration to so many people. He taught so many people and they aspired to be what they dreamed because of him. I was one of them. He was my teacher. He gave us the impetuous to be anything we wanted to be. It's a terrible loss. A tragedy." Timar said every emotionally.
The walk around the school revealed a lot to Mason. He 'felt' his way around. Observing people. Not everyone was sad about the demise of the lecturer. Those were the people that interested him. There were others that pretended to be sad. Those people interested him as well. He noticed too that the school flag flew, not at half-mast.
"One of the other lecturers, a female, was at the police station first thing this morning." The inspector started, "She was bawling and saying that she was the last person to see him alive."
Mason stopped in his tracks and turned to look the inspector straight in the face.
"What did she have to say? Tell me every word of it."
"She said that she was with him Friday morning. She declared them to be best friends. They went everywhere together. She said they were going to get married one day. She was inside his house Friday morning. They had arranged for him to pickup a friend of hers in Kingston. He went to Kingston for business on Friday. She said when she arrived at his house on Friday morning he was dressed ready to go. She told him that he should change his clothes and wear something else. A stripped shirt instead of what he had on would look better."
Mason remembered the stripped shirt neatly folded on the chair in Ceyon's bedroom.
"We questioned her further about what transpired on that Friday. She said that she normally went with him to Kingston but that day she didn't go. It was she that asked him to pick someone up and bring him back to St. Thomas with him. She said that he was to pickup the person named....." He looked in his small note pad that he carried for the name, ".......Julian Williamson at Manor Park Mall. He had never met the man before so she said that she was describing him to Ceyon. Also she was describing Ceyon to Julian drawing them closer to each other as time went on. She was on the cell phone with Ceyon and then on the cell phone with Julian in an attempt to get them to meet."
"Interesting." Squinting his eyes.
"She also said that when they went to town they would stop and eat at a restaurant called Island Grill. That was Ceyon's favourite restaurant and he always ate there when he went to Kingston. He finally met Julian at Manor Park Mall. They went to the restaurant together. We have been in contact with the police in Kingston to check on the restaurant to see if the owner remembers anyone with Ceyon that night."
"Get with Celtel and see if they have any CC cameras at Manor Park Mall."
"Great idea!" Timar said.
Mason raised his eyebrows in exasperation. Timar should have thought to do that long ago.
"What is her name?" Mason asked as though he had not heard a word that the inspector had said.
"Who?"
Again, patience, lots of patience required.
"The woman that was the friend of Ceyon."
"Oh, Melissa Calloway."
"Interesting."
"We have ruled her out as a suspect." The inspector announced proudly.
"Really?!" Mason asked in surprise. "Why?"
"Well......because......she showed up immediately at the police station to tell us her story and the goings-on of the last day of Ceyon's life. She even said that they were going to get married. He was like a father to her children and he was at her house all the time. You should have seen her, she bawled a river, I tell ya."
"Ohhhh really?"
Mason thought several things as the inspector was speaking. 'Everyone believes that the first story heard is the truth. That the person that talks a lot is innocent. The person that shows up to the police station voluntarily and willingly is innocent. That many details makes them free of suspicion. The admission of love makes them innocent.'
"Did you ask her where she was at around ten o'clock on Friday night?"
"Uhhhh.....well.....no." He was embarrassed. "I didn't feel any need to. She was so distraught about what happened that, that alone cleared her......"
Mason put up his hand to stop hearing everything repeated. "I see." Was all he said.
One thing that stuck in Mason's mind that he had inquired of Ceyon's marital status. He had a wife. She was estranged. But he was in fact legally married at the time of his death.
The entire campus was in a state of shock. Very few speaking. Those that did, spoke in low tones, respectful of those that knew him well. Some were wailing and overwrought. Crisis counsellors were called in to talk to the students.
Inspector Timar Johnson and Mason Adams made their way to the President's office.
"Madam President, how are you today? I'm Inspector Johnson and this is Mr. Adams."
"Inspector." She responded shaking each gentleman's hand. "Please sit down."
"We have a few questions for you."
"Certainly."
Mason noted her willingness to help them.
After the interview with the woman of which Mason did very little questioning or talking all he said to himself was: 'Interesting.'
Outside Inspector Johnson questioned him, "So what do you think about that interview?" He was anxious to find out what Mason thought. Everyone was. Mason was never easily forthcoming.
They went through the campus talking to various students asking them questions. Most of the staff, the faculty and the students were terrified. Very nervous. Looking at Adams and Johnson out of the corner of their eyes as they passed.
"Who are they?" They whispered among themselves.
"What is going on?"
"Who killed Mr. Montcliffe?"
"Why would they want to?"