“Really? So he was well-liked by everyone here.”
“Someone donates money to your school, and you’re going to dislike him?” She began to fold the sheets of paper. “We could hardly believe that this murder had taken place. Is there something specific you need to know?”
“You’re in charge of staffing schedules?”
“Just one of my duties as an assistant administrator, yes sir.”
“Mr. Kwesi DeSouza. He’s a member of your staff, correct?”
“Yes,” she said, pressing a button to begin a series of copies. “He’s in IT.”
“I understand he works on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” Dawson said, watching the sheets of paper flowing into place with hypnotizing regularity.
“Yes, I believe that’s correct,” she said. “I can check for you.”
“I’m interested in the dates of seventh and eighth July of this year.”
She sat down with an air of efficiency, pulled her chair up to her desk computer, and went into the appropriate screen. “Let’s see now… the seventh was a Monday. Yes, he worked that day… oh, no, sorry-he had to postpone the class until Wednesday.”
Interesting, Dawson thought. DeSouza had not mentioned that. “Any reason given for the postponement?”
She was trying to remember. “Let me think. He called me about it… aha, yes, I remember now. He went to a funeral in Somanya, the Saturday before-that would be the fifth-and then some kind of family palaver arose, and he told me he couldn’t be in on Monday, so the class was canceled and rescheduled to Wednesday.”
“Is Mr. DeSouza here today?”
“He may be in the IT office marking exam papers, or else he could be invigilating an exam. The students are taking their midterms.” She pointed out the window in the direction of IT. “Turn right where you see the electrical department and go straight.”
“Thank you very much.”
“You are most welcome.” She looked concerned but not panicked. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Just routine inquiries-nothing to be concerned about.”
“Very good.” She smiled and winked at him. “Then I won’t bother to mention it to Mr. DeSouza.”
OUTSIDE, DAWSON PAUSED to look at a bronze statue of a man in front of a piece of equipment on a tripod-a kind of mascot of the institute. The campus was neat, with well-kept grass and trimmed shrubs. Students, all in their early to late teens walked back and forth between classes in khaki and cream uniforms that reminded Dawson of his secondary school days. Women were evidently very rare here, and they seemed to be mostly assigned to the fashion design department.
