Mas is in trouble. She is being accused of smashing another student's car.
She called up, promising that she'd buy me lunch for the next 3 days if I could help her prove to the Security Department and her classmates that she was innocent. How I could I turn down such an offer? I am currently pokai anyway.
Made an appointment to meet her at SACC Mall. I need to jot down the facts situation before making investigations. So it was an agreed dinner date.
The appetizer helped Mas give her statements freely, and me to concentrate on her case after nearly going crazy thinking about chocolates for the whole day. I'm out of budget for chocolates this month.
"What happened?" I asked Mas. And so Mas' story went like this:
Mas was approached by another student at her classroom. Mas was informed earlier by her fellow classmates that the student (let's call her X in this case) was searching for her that morning, but Mas had not yet arrived to the law school due to football fever. She overslept through the first two classes.
While rushing to catch the next class, Mas bumped into X. They met face to face and Mas asked X her reason of searching for her. X told the Mas that she believed Mas had smashed her car in the parking lot nearby the Student Affairs' Department and made a run for it a few days before. X showed Mas photos of her car, and it showed the driver's door badly damaged. Mas was shocked and said that X had no proof to accuse her of doing such thing. X produced a note that had Mas' car plate number written on it and she demanded to see X's car on the spot. Mas couldn't go to her car since she was in the middle of a class, and being suspicious of X, Mas feared that X would do something on her car to fabricate her point while she's in class, so she denied the number written on the note as hers and stated a different number.
It wasn't entirely a lie since the number she stated was actually her old car plate number. But it was really a stupid thing to do in my opinion. Mas just wanted to get X out of her hair since X kept bothering her on several classes afterwards and hurling verbal abuses at her in front of her classmates. X even dragged along with her a 'witness' to corroborate her claim. The 'witness' testified that he saw the defendant rammed X's car from behind as she was reversing her car in the parking lot one evening. He recognised Mas as the one who drove the car away from the scene in a reckless manner. He admitted that it was him who wrote the note and put it on X's car. Mas was then called a liar by X because she unable to come up with a defence, and everyone in Mas' class began to believe the allegation. X had also threatened to report the incident to the Dean if Mas refused to pay her damages.
I burst out laughing, nearly spurting my cappucino. "She can call the Vice Chancellor if she wants to. What a stupid threat!"
Mas suddenly looked hurt. Uh oh, did I say something wrong?
"Amel, how could you be laughing at a time like this... I'm in trouble here!"
"Sorry, Mas. I didn't mean to laugh at you. I mean, X could have reported the accident to the Security Department instead, it's their jurisdiction to handle such things. What can our Mr. Dean do? He doesn't have time to deal with such trifling matter (he doesn't have time for anything, anyway). Besides, the Dean can't even leave his office without locking it up like Fort Knox."
No one can get in our Dean's office either, unless that person knows some Houdini tricks. (But I did manage to get in a few times with the help of my pen).
As we left the mall, I gave Mas a phone number to call just in case X bothered her at the faculty again. It's the Chief of the Security Department's phone number. I knew him ever since he was a major in the armed forces. Now he's retired to handling campus kids' disciplinary antics, and I think he's already got used to mine now.
I glanced at Mas' face as we were heading to her car. I could feel an aura of loneliness wrapping around her. I understand how it feels like to be left alone by the world to deal with your own problems. I felt like pulling her towards me and give her a hug, telling her that everything will be alright. But I couldn't. Her fiance will kill me if I do that.
"Hey, cheer up!" I said to her. "I believe you."
That's what she needed most at that time, wasn't it?
Mas just looked back at me silently.
I had an idea. I went around the car and showed her the bumper. "There's no dent on your bumper at all. See?"
There were only old scratches there, scratches that usually formed when a car scrapes against concrete or high sidewalks. "If a car reverses and knocks over another car, and smashes the front, there would have been a momentum created during the crash and each car would have received impact from the force depending on the kinetic energy exerted. Now, in an elastic collision..."
I stopped. Mas was staring at me in surprise. I quickly realized my mistake.
"Uh, Physics. Sorry, I forgot that-"
Mas cut in, "It's okay. Go on, I'd like to know more."
I explained to her that there would have been a dent or at least a new scratch on her car's rear if the accident really indeed had happened. There would have been at least bits of fresh paint from X's car stuck to the defendant's car rear. None could be found.
"Another thing," I continued, "I notice that you have a sensor installed. It would be imposible for you to reverse your car without hearing the sensor beeping like that."
No, not beeping, it sounds more like hungry chicks chirping for food. It was annoying. The chirping gets worse when the rear approaches any object, including a piece of stone on the road, a foot away. I know, I measured.
I also observed that the windows of the car were tinted. It would be hard for a person outside the car to see the driver inside, especially in a dark area like the parking lot nearby the Student Affairs' Department during evenings. And if the car was driven past any person in the dark and in a reckless manner, wouldn't it have been difficult for that person to identify the car plate number at that time?
I smell something fishy going on...
"TERBANG" BY DAZMELON is playing in my mind today.
She called up, promising that she'd buy me lunch for the next 3 days if I could help her prove to the Security Department and her classmates that she was innocent. How I could I turn down such an offer? I am currently pokai anyway.
Made an appointment to meet her at SACC Mall. I need to jot down the facts situation before making investigations. So it was an agreed dinner date.
The appetizer helped Mas give her statements freely, and me to concentrate on her case after nearly going crazy thinking about chocolates for the whole day. I'm out of budget for chocolates this month.
"What happened?" I asked Mas. And so Mas' story went like this:
Mas was approached by another student at her classroom. Mas was informed earlier by her fellow classmates that the student (let's call her X in this case) was searching for her that morning, but Mas had not yet arrived to the law school due to football fever. She overslept through the first two classes.
While rushing to catch the next class, Mas bumped into X. They met face to face and Mas asked X her reason of searching for her. X told the Mas that she believed Mas had smashed her car in the parking lot nearby the Student Affairs' Department and made a run for it a few days before. X showed Mas photos of her car, and it showed the driver's door badly damaged. Mas was shocked and said that X had no proof to accuse her of doing such thing. X produced a note that had Mas' car plate number written on it and she demanded to see X's car on the spot. Mas couldn't go to her car since she was in the middle of a class, and being suspicious of X, Mas feared that X would do something on her car to fabricate her point while she's in class, so she denied the number written on the note as hers and stated a different number.
It wasn't entirely a lie since the number she stated was actually her old car plate number. But it was really a stupid thing to do in my opinion. Mas just wanted to get X out of her hair since X kept bothering her on several classes afterwards and hurling verbal abuses at her in front of her classmates. X even dragged along with her a 'witness' to corroborate her claim. The 'witness' testified that he saw the defendant rammed X's car from behind as she was reversing her car in the parking lot one evening. He recognised Mas as the one who drove the car away from the scene in a reckless manner. He admitted that it was him who wrote the note and put it on X's car. Mas was then called a liar by X because she unable to come up with a defence, and everyone in Mas' class began to believe the allegation. X had also threatened to report the incident to the Dean if Mas refused to pay her damages.
I burst out laughing, nearly spurting my cappucino. "She can call the Vice Chancellor if she wants to. What a stupid threat!"
Mas suddenly looked hurt. Uh oh, did I say something wrong?
"Amel, how could you be laughing at a time like this... I'm in trouble here!"
"Sorry, Mas. I didn't mean to laugh at you. I mean, X could have reported the accident to the Security Department instead, it's their jurisdiction to handle such things. What can our Mr. Dean do? He doesn't have time to deal with such trifling matter (he doesn't have time for anything, anyway). Besides, the Dean can't even leave his office without locking it up like Fort Knox."
No one can get in our Dean's office either, unless that person knows some Houdini tricks. (But I did manage to get in a few times with the help of my pen).
As we left the mall, I gave Mas a phone number to call just in case X bothered her at the faculty again. It's the Chief of the Security Department's phone number. I knew him ever since he was a major in the armed forces. Now he's retired to handling campus kids' disciplinary antics, and I think he's already got used to mine now.
I glanced at Mas' face as we were heading to her car. I could feel an aura of loneliness wrapping around her. I understand how it feels like to be left alone by the world to deal with your own problems. I felt like pulling her towards me and give her a hug, telling her that everything will be alright. But I couldn't. Her fiance will kill me if I do that.
"Hey, cheer up!" I said to her. "I believe you."
That's what she needed most at that time, wasn't it?
Mas just looked back at me silently.
I had an idea. I went around the car and showed her the bumper. "There's no dent on your bumper at all. See?"
There were only old scratches there, scratches that usually formed when a car scrapes against concrete or high sidewalks. "If a car reverses and knocks over another car, and smashes the front, there would have been a momentum created during the crash and each car would have received impact from the force depending on the kinetic energy exerted. Now, in an elastic collision..."
I stopped. Mas was staring at me in surprise. I quickly realized my mistake.
"Uh, Physics. Sorry, I forgot that-"
Mas cut in, "It's okay. Go on, I'd like to know more."
I explained to her that there would have been a dent or at least a new scratch on her car's rear if the accident really indeed had happened. There would have been at least bits of fresh paint from X's car stuck to the defendant's car rear. None could be found.
"Another thing," I continued, "I notice that you have a sensor installed. It would be imposible for you to reverse your car without hearing the sensor beeping like that."
No, not beeping, it sounds more like hungry chicks chirping for food. It was annoying. The chirping gets worse when the rear approaches any object, including a piece of stone on the road, a foot away. I know, I measured.
I also observed that the windows of the car were tinted. It would be hard for a person outside the car to see the driver inside, especially in a dark area like the parking lot nearby the Student Affairs' Department during evenings. And if the car was driven past any person in the dark and in a reckless manner, wouldn't it have been difficult for that person to identify the car plate number at that time?
I smell something fishy going on...
"TERBANG" BY DAZMELON is playing in my mind today.
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