Wait, Am I A Suspect?

Walking to the Principal's office was like walking towards death that was eagerly waiting for you. On the way, Marcus thought of the ways he could try and convince them that it wasn't him. Pictures of some badass police officers beating the crap out of him forcing him to tell them the truth flashed in his mind and he couldn't help but shiver. But there was a silver lining. All he had to do was get Mr. William to confirm that he told him to extend his time at school. Then he would get Mr. Stevens to also confirm that he saw him leave the school. And that is how he would be declared free of suspicion.

Plan Aikido!

Marcus entered the office only to find Mr. William, Mr. Stevens and some bored-to-death police officer. He looked too old to be on the field as a cop. He introduced himself to Marcus as Timothy, the Chief of Investigations at Middlewood's Police Department, commonly referred to as MPD. He was almost as expressionless as Mr. Stevens, although his face portrayed a sense of boredom and disinterest unlike Mr. Stevens who looked at you as if he'd strangle you any time soon.

"Welcome Marcus, please, sit down." Mr. William spoke. His voice betrayed him, as it spoke with a tone of fear and distress. The old man was getting enough trouble alright. He wasn't used to a whole gang of police officers parading his school and a bevy of journalists recording everything that was going on and attacking him with a series of questions. He felt that his private life had been invaded, not to mention the future of his career. It was the wrong type of publicity. Soon the directors would be demanding an answer as to why a murderer made his way into the school, committed a crime and left unnoticed. His other fear was about the children's parents who would now be insecure about the safety of their own children. That was too much to handle.

"Yes, Marcus. Now could you please tell the officer here what you were doing in school yesterday evening?"

'You knew what I was doing yesterday evening. It was you who did that to me. Why couldn't you just tell him that you gave me the punishment.'

"Well, I was at the toilets doing the punishment that you gave me sir."

"What punishment were you doing?" Mr. William asked in his most innocent voice ever.

Marcus literally felt like screaming at him.

"I was scrubbing graffiti off the wall."

"From which toilets were you scrubbing the off the graffiti?"

'Oh my God! Did this man forget his brain at home or what?'

"The ones at the other end of the school block, near the parking lot and next to the dining hall."

"At what time did you leave the school?"

'Isn't the officer the one supposed to ask me these questions?'

"Around 5:15 pm in the evening sir. You can ask Mr. Stevens here. He saw me leave."

Mr Stevens grunted and then nodded. By now Marcus had gotten used to his grunting as a normal inclusion in his daily conversation.

Mr. William sighed and then finally said, "It's okay then. I have no more questions. If the officer here doesn't have any other question to ask you, you are free to go back to class."

"Did see anything that maybe might have been related to the young girl's murder?" The detective asked, his mind clearly absent from what was taking place inside the office.

Marcus shook his head. There was nothing interesting that happened the day before, save for the man with no pinkie finger who seemed to be having a face-off with Mr. Stevens.

Timothy shook his head to confirm that he did not have any further question. Marcus stood up ready to leave. Before he left, Mr. William called him back.

"Oh! And Marcus, I am relieving you from your punishment. But don't repeat your mistake."

"Thank you sir."

As Marcus left that office, two things were oddly troubling him. One was that the officer wasn't paying attention to his interrogation.

'The damn motherfucker didn't even write anything in that shitty notebook of his.'

The second thing, and which was disturbing, was that Mr. Stevens had a mild bruise on his forehead, which he was furtively trying to hide. All these things kept on playing on repeat in Marcus' mind.

Something was definitely off about this murder.