NEW ASHLOK FICTION : GUILTY Chapter 29page 140 - Page 5

This is a first for him. What should he do. Should he Hug her back? She's obviously in a state of denial and the sedatives playing tricks with her vision. Should he just push her apart and bring her back to the cruel reality she needs to face sooner or later. Or should he just let her be. Another scratch in his wooden heart. He was sober. He had just had a glass of red wine. What's gotten into me. He questioned himself.

He could feel her breath seeping through the gaps in his shirt opening. Directly warming his soul. Did I say soul. Noway. Shlok Agnihotri does not use words like soul. Next he felt warmth and dampness. Now that he's used to. But this brought no erotic notions, instead his wooden heart was in the line of her tears, they were trickling on to it.

He saw himself in the mirror hanging in the hallway, he was checking himself out liked what he saw. In the arms of a beautiful girl. He saw her too. He realised just how petit she really is. Looked like a child. Just barley above his waist. Her head rested on his chest. He's never gone out with anybody like her. But she did remind him of Sandya. Long legs did it for him. This is uncharted territory for him in many ways. He didn't know when he wrapped his arms around the frail figure. Her tiny hands clutching his shirt. She was trying to hold him close to her as possible. As if she let go even little bit she'd loose him. He could hear her softly crying. Were they tears of happiness thinking her husband is still alive or tears of grief with the the dawn of reality. Det. Agnihotri was in a dilemma. One he's never encountered with women. He's always been very sure of what he wants, what he wants to do and say. He just didn't care about what others thought about him. He was his own master. And sometimes the devil as well.

What was he thinking? He wasn't thinking that's the problem. All his thought process seemed to have frozen the moment she hugged him. She's not begging for you to take her home, although he wouldn't have mind taking her home. Get off the flying carpet Aladdin. He said to himself. Trying to shake off the softening thoughts in his heart. He didn't like it one bit. He's used to dealing with murderers and drug addicts. Not used to helping damsels in distress. Specially one as beautiful and with childlike innocence as she was. He's not the dating type either. He had his ways to get his needs fulfilled. But he was not a total ass. But he was no saint either.

He was very upfront with what they can expect from him. Nothing other than a warm body. No calls the morning after, no cuddles, no roses, gifts. He's not gone out with the same girl more than few times. He didn't want to get their hopes up. No matter how much they say their ok with it. It never is. He played it safe. He didn't want any embarrassing scenes with women coming to the station looking for him. He kept his private life very private.

But he was a good guy. Got along with everyone without any issues. He has come through the system. Very intelligent and driven. Dedicated and hones most of the time. He knew how to get the job done. Not righteous all the time. He would make sure justice is served. That he gets the bad guy every single time. No wonder He is the best Homicide Detective in the Mumbai Crime Unit.

He was very well known for his generous ways. Always the first to put money for any charitable cause, pay for most of the office parties, buy birthday cakes for his colleges. But none of his friends have ever been to his house, nor has he been to any of their houses. Not attained any of their many functions, from kids birthday parties to naming ceremonies to house warmings to not even Diawali or Eid parties. He didn't even attend his partners wedding. He'd always give a excuse but they didn't seem to mind it either for he always made sure to get them a very extravagant gift beforehand. No wonder he was always the first to be invited for any function. He didn't hang out with his colleagues much either. He preferred to go club hopping alone. Not that he got much opportunities for that either. With his line of work and with the increase in crimes in general in Mumbai he was chasing bad guys most of the time.

All the girls and even married women had a crush on him. He did not flirt with his female colleagues at all. He was very charming. Very polite and chivalrous. Would always open the door for them, stand up when a lady walks in, step aside and let them pass through a door or wait for them to get off the lift first. He was a well mannered guy and girls swooned over him.

He knew it too and he enjoyed it. He never dated any of his female colleagues nor did he ever went out with any of his suspects or witnesses. His work and private life stayed at two ends. They never mixed. That was his policy. He followed it to a te. He knew mixing work and pleasure tend to always come and bite you in the rear one day or the other. He'd seen his partner commit the grave mistake and pay dearly for that too.

He didn't need to. He was more than capable of finding girls. Or rather they find him. He was a chick magnet. It worked well for him. But if he finds someone attractive then he wouldn't think twice before asking her out and spending the night. He was not breaking any law or any hearts. So everybody walked away happy.

He didn't take them to his penthouse. Nor did he reveal his profession or his full name. He liked to remain an unknown entity. That added to the enigma that is Shlok. And most of the time women couldn't care less who this handsome man with aristocratic virtues really is. He was impeccably dressed, well groomed. He makes the women feel as if he's doing them a big favour, that she's the luckiest gal in the whole world to be the object of his desires. He was oozing with sex appeal without him even trying to be. He has an aura about him that women just couldn't ignore. He demanded to be noticed, fantasised and drooled upon. And they did voluntarily and shamelessly.

Det. Shlok Agnihotri lived in a penthouse? One would question, is he a corrupt cop? No. He's not. Then from where did he get the money? He's loaded. That's it.

So what does he think about her, Mrs. Almeida? She was still holding on to him and he holding her.

What's going on. Get a hold of yourself man! He said to himself. Shlok was totally lost in the moment. Another first for him.

Suddenly she pulled away from him. She looked at him with tears still streaming down her cheecks. He got this sudden urge to wipe the tears from her cheeks that looked soft as the baby's bum. Her eyes were wide as the full moon. It was as if she was suddenly awaken from a nightmare.

"Who are you? What have you done with my husband?" She yelled still looking at him. "You killed him, and how dare you touch me" "I'm gonna call the police" saying she was looking for a phone.

Just then Shlok stepped in, "Mrs. Almeida! I am the police. My name is Det. Shlok Agnihotri, I'm in charge of this investigation. I'm very sorry for your loss. I know this is a very difficult time for you, but I'm a afraid I really need to ask you some questions with regard to your husbands murder" he continued.

She just gave him a blank look. She started to cry once again. The realisation that it's all happening and it's no dream nor nightmare.

She just slumped down on to the chair. And just covered her face with her hands. Shlok was loss for words. He didn't want to come across like a completely insensitive guy. But he needed to do his job as well. It was of paramount importance that he gets a statement from her. As time lapses she could forget very important details with regard to her husbands murderer. He gave her few minutes to compose herself. He asked the maid to get her some water and a some tissues. In the meantime he gave her his handkerchief. Yeah! Right...so noble of me.

Shlok settled himself on the other chair when she looked up at him. Her eyes swollen and red and it showed the depth of her pain, cheeks looked pale but it still had tinge of pink left in them. Her beautiful lips void of any lipstick still trembled with gasps, after effects of her crying. She wiped her face with his nevr used black handkerchief and looked at his hand. He was holding the recorder.

He asked her if she's ready to answer. She nodded. She didn't look at him. Not wanting to face is a sign of guilt. For the facial expression say a thousand words that the mind is trying to hide.

Is she trying to hide something from me? He thought. He didn't like that thought. Why is he reluctant to think that she may be a possible suspect in this case. He's never had any issues prior. Then why now? What has changed? Nothing according to him.

He wanted to get some answers, he tried to clear the mist that has covered his mind with what he wasn't sure. But something is not right. Is he prepared to accept the facts. Not yet.

"Mrs. Almeida, for the record can you please state your full name and your relationship with the deceased. And please be known anything you say can be used as evidence in the court of law!" He said looking at her hoping she'd lift her head up.

She nodded. But didn't look at him. She kept her head down fidgeting with her wedding band.

Astha Rose Almeida! I'm his wife... Her voice broke again and she covered her face with his hanky.