What Was Burned

Chapter 9

 On Saturday, I stood before the large gates of St Patrick's University, one of the most prestigious learning institute of London. Situated in the city centre, on the banks of the Thames, the university was known for its exceptional Chemistry and Psychology Departments, as well as having taught many successful alumni. St Patrick's has been gathering most of the elites of the world, forming them into the success of the future generations.

I sighed as I looked up at the familiar buildings and roads. St Patrick's was also the university I had graduated from, 3 years ago. I have had only good memories of this place were I spent the majority of 5 years of my life. Yet, now, I had to come back here to investigate a murder case. What a good way to ruin a happy memory, I thought.

As I was an alumni, and a famous one in the forensics industry, I was quickly greeted entry upon seeing my detective ID by the entrance guard. I strolled under the morning sun, reliving the times I used to study here to perfect my knowledge of Criminal Psychology. I glanced here and there, noticing the numerous changes the university had gone through during those 3 years I wasn't here after I had graduated. There were more bicycle racks and the roads were mostly brand new. Some smaller buildings had also been built, used as student dormitory and there was also a new lecture hall.

Although I was older than most of the students here, I even if I did attract a few looks, no one asked me wether I was a student here or not.

I made my way towards the Chemistry Dept, a medium sized round building just besides the student cafeteria. Once inside, I looked for room 3002 where the Advanced Chemistry lecture was supposed to take place in about 5 minutes.

In the university, all were welcomed to attend some of the lectures, even if the student wasn't of that department. The Headmaster wanted students to broaden their interests by offering them opportunities to listen to other departments' lectures.

I slipped inside the classroom and found myself a seat on the last row, looking down to the teacher who was organising his notes and folders. The classroom was in a circular shape, going higher the further from the little scene for the teacher and the large screen behind him. The room was almost entirely filled already with groups of students chatting among themselves. Others were writing in their notebooks or revising notes, probably from the last lesson.

I scanned the room, taking note of any suspicious individual as I tried to appear like a normal university student. A few men had caught my attention, all fully trying or completely not trying to attract the other students to them. Deranged people often wanted to appear part of a group or appear the less conspicuous possible in order to lessen the suspicion on them.

A lone black-haired boy on the first row was fumbling with his pencil, looking around wildly before focusing back to the textbook in front of him. He might just be a very nervous student but I still wrote down his description and the place he was sitting at. I couldn't really see the colour of his eyes but he was wearing a large oversized sweater, hiding his body shape. I couldn't exactly pinpoint what seemed off about him but I still felt something was wrong about him. Trusting my instincts, I took him as a probable suspect.

I turned my gaze to a man standing in the centre of a large group of students, mostly girls, fawning over him. I scoffed at the ridiculous sight but still took note of his seat and his appearance. Some criminals might not feel any different after their acts so even those that appear normal could be a cold-blooded killer.

He had bright blond hair swiped left over his forehead and icy blue eyes. Wearing a tight shirt revealing his probing muscles and dark blue jeans, he was the perfect incarnation of the university popular boy. His stature fit the criminal profiling we had made through the different cases.