Love in Politics ( PoohPavel)

36

Pavel turned on the TV that night, his heart sinking as he saw the news headline: "Pooh Krittin Arrested for Wife's Murder." The screen showed Pooh in prison clothes, smiling brightly as photographers captured his image. During a brief interview before entering the police jeep, Pooh seemed inexplicably happy, a stark contrast to the gravity of the accusations against him.

Overwhelmed with stress, Pavel immediately called one of his friends who worked as a detective. "Namtan, please, I beg you... I need to see him," Pavel pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Pavel, you need to chill. If you rush to the prison right now, they'll suspect you too. The police will be at your place in ten minutes. Be ready," Namtan replied, her voice calm but firm.

"Wait, what? Namtan? Hello?" Pavel's voice trembled as he tried to process her words.

"Yeah, Pavel?"

"I swear to God, Pooh never killed anyone, Namtan. Please believe me, please..." Pavel's desperation was palpable.

Namtan sighed deeply. "Save this for later, Pavel. Say it to the police. I'll take you to see Pooh, but I can't promise when, okay?"

"O-okay," Pavel choked on his tears as Namtan ended the call.

Taking a deep breath, Pavel tried to steady himself. He was about to walk to the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He opened the door to find several police officers standing outside.

"Mr. Pavel, we need to ask you some questions about Pooh Krittin and the events surrounding his wife's death," one of the officers said.

Pavel nodded, stepping aside to let them in. "Of course, come in."

The officers entered, their expressions stern and professional. Pavel led them to the living room, where they sat down, the tension in the room thick and heavy.

"Mr. Pavel," began the lead officer, "can you tell us about your relationship with Mr. Krittin and his wife?"

Pavel took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "Pooh and I are... very close. We've been friends for years. His wife... she was troubled. They had a lot of issues."

"Can you elaborate on these issues?" the officer asked, pen ready to take notes.

"She was unstable. She burned their house down," Pavel said, his voice shaking with the memory. "She accused Pooh of cheating, but... but he didn't do it."

The officer's eyes narrowed slightly. "You sound very certain of that. How can you be so sure?"

Pavel looked down, feeling the weight of the officer's gaze. "Because... I was with him that day. He couldn't have done it."

The officer scribbled something in his notebook. "And what about the night of the incident? Where was he then?"

Pavel hesitated, knowing that his next words could make or break Pooh's case. "He was with me. All night."

The officer looked up from his notes. "All night? Are you willing to make a formal statement to that effect?"

"Yes," Pavel replied without hesitation. "Anything to prove his innocence."

Just then, the doorbell rang again. One of the officers opened it to reveal Namtan, her expression a mix of concern and determination.

"Pavel," she said, walking in briskly. "I spoke to the officers here, and they're willing to listen. But you need to be calm and precise in your statement."

Pavel nodded, taking another deep breath. "I will. Thank you, Namtan."

Namtan turned to the lead officer. "I've known Pavel for years. He's telling the truth. Pooh couldn't have done it. We need to investigate this further."

The officer nodded, though his expression remained cautious. "We'll take your statement, Mr. Pavel. But understand, this is just the beginning. The evidence against Mr. Krittin is strong."

Pavel clenched his fists, determined. "Then I'll do whatever it takes to prove his innocence."

The officers took Pavel's statement and left, leaving him with Namtan.

"Thank you, Namtan," Pavel said, his voice breaking.

"We'll figure this out, Pavel. But you need to be strong," Namtan replied, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

As they stood in the now-quiet apartment, Pavel couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. He would fight for Pooh, no matter what it took.