The Campus Demon {Nanowrimo 2020}

Chapter 11

Mr Eze walked into a fine gigantic building with high rise windows and artificial flower vases used as interior decoration. The senate house; university activities were carried out by the heads. Appearance was strictly based on invitation. He soaked up the beauty, marveling at the shiny linoleum floor and plush furniture fittings.

A cool whoosh of air from the air condition slammed him hard as he made his way to the receptionist desk. Miss Akin, the receptionist on duty, looked Mr Eze over as she chewed on her bubble gum, slapping it against her pink lips. "Who have you come to see?" She asked, blowing her freshly manicured nails coated with red paint.

"I'm here to see the vice chancellor," he declared. It was the first time in his life he was meeting with a high profile. He handed his documented invite to Miss Akin who began typing away at her desktop computer. Mr Eze waited patiently, eyeing the serene environment.

The senate was a quiet seclusion from the main campus in contrast to the hustle and bustle of the campus itself. Miss Akin passed on his appointment letter and stated directions to the vice chancellor's office with a clipped voice. He ascended a flight of stairs, gripping the golden banister to prevent him from slipping off one of the steps by mistake.

Mr Eze walked through a well lit corridor, coming to a stop in front of the last door to right. He took in deep calming breaths, exhaling slowly, repeating the process over and over before knocking on the door. For some reason, he felt very nervous. The short burly man behind the door, gestured him in, offering him a seat opposite his cluttered mahogany desk.

"Yes. What can I do for you, mister?" He asked, cracking his knuckles and staring hard at Mr Eze who stood, looking at him shell shocked. His brows creased as he studied the particular set of stubborn chin, stormy brown eyes, thick bushy eyebrows, slim nose, full lips and fat cheeks. It was the same Lale Joshua he knew back then in his secondary school.

Mr Eze did not stop blinking as he took his seat, thinking back to the moments he'd shared with his closest friend. But he was sure Lale barely recognized him, it had been more than twenty five years since they last saw. Lale waited for the man to speak as he leaned back in his swiveling chair.

"I'm sorry sir. Pardon me. I was just thinking you resembled a certain Lale back then in my secondary school. Did you attend Demonstration group of schools?" Mr Eze inquired when he finally regained his voice.

Lale thought for a while with a hand on his chin, shaking his head, a bit unsure. "No, I don't think so," he said, giving a laconic reply.

"It's alright." Mr Eze decided to wave the matter off. It was possible that Lale was pretending not to know him because of how miserable he looked.

"I actually came in respect of a three hundred level Biochemistry student who was gruesomely murdered almost two weeks ago," he stated, inclining his concerns. "She's my daughter."

The corners of Lale's lips turned down in irritation. It wasn't the first time his office would be raided with mourning parents who couldn't let go of their emotions, claiming the school had something to do with their deaths. His face showed no expression whatsoever and this left Mr Eze feeling hollow. He needed closure, something he could hold onto.

"Sir, are you listening to me?" He asked for confirmation, his voice breaking.

"Yes, I was. So in that respect, what am I to do for you?" Lale attempted a phoney smile. Mr Eze felt slightly uncomfortable but refused to show it.

"I wanted to open up a police investigation which would involve the students in your university."

"And how many do you think you want to investigate before you find her murderer, huh?" Lale scoffed, giving a sardonic grin. "There are tens of thousand students in this school."

"I didn't mean all the students sir. I meant just some of her course mates and friends. And maybe, others who might have known her in one way or the other."

Lale stroked his thin white beard, weighing Mr Eze thoughtfully. A heavy silence ensued; Mr Eze gazed steely at Lale—he wasn't planning on backing down without a fight. But did he even stand a chance against the high and mighty?

Lale cleared his dry throat, now folding his arms on his desk in a professional manner. "I, Professor Ndokwa Lale Joshua, can allow the police investigation on campus grounds. But that not withstanding, it should not disrupt school or lecture activities."

His remark didn't come as a surprise to Mr Eze, he had been half expecting for that to happen. He gave a curt nod, standing upright. "I'll take my leave then. Thank you so much for your time and listening ear." That was the last thing Mr Eze said before walking out of the cozy office, closing the door gently behind him.

He sat down to a dinner of starch and banga soup as his wife watched him with beady eyes. She had been toiling with her food, too worried to eat or speak. The past few days had left her distraught, empty, craving for anything that would give her solace. It didn't help matters that she was struggling with her husband to make ends meet.

She toyed with the hem of her wrapper, tears clouding her vision as she stared at a picture frame of Valentina in her matriculation gown with a bright smile on her face. Mr Eze sighed heavily. "I've told you to put those away. They are going to make you depressed. We need to move forward with a clear head."

His wife snapped her neck, her face creasing into a light frown. "I'm not removing anything, biko. It's best to leave things the way they are. Did the meeting you had with the vice chancellor go as planned?"

Mr Eze gulped the lump of starch that was lodged in his throat, nodding his head. "The man put up a sort of brace front before agreeing. He knows deep down that nothing can stop a police investigation." He'd left out the part of knowing Lale, afraid for his wife's reaction.

Mrs. Eze sniffed, holding her tears at bay. "He sounds like a criminal self. May he burn in his seat of office. Useless shenanigan."

The venom with which his wife said the words rekindled Mr Eze's worn out spirit. He nodded in agreement, picking up a piece of smoked fish—the only one he had left in his soup.

"Whoever is in on this has to pay dearly with their life. Especially that Fikayo."

"That wicked idiot." She bit a finger, whipping her hand in front of her untouched food. "Hope you've been keeping tabs on his movement."

"Of course. He's out of the country now. We'll just have to wait till the time he gets back. Give him a day or two to settle in. And then, we strike." Mrs Eze smiled hideously.