Guilty Love (Completed)

Chapter Twenty'One

Note : Well, I see that my story has been in a few people's readingg list.. And I think it's time for me to continue from where I stop.. I didnt think that someone will have interest in my story.. I am truly thankful for those who reads this story.. 😘😘
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"On me?" Then she realised what he meant and her flush deepened. "Oh. Oh... Well, yes,  I was..., it wasn't easy for me, either. Obviously." Linzi reply. "You're young, and very attractive.., it would be only natural for you to be frustrated and unhappy. And Mr Calhoun is a very attractive man, a virile man, I'd imagine, a strong, active man with a strong sex drive. And he was in love with you."

She turned to stone. Stared at the policeman with eyes that didn't see him. Then, "No!" she whispered, shaking her head. "No, no, no. He isn't. You've no right to say that. It's a lie. There was never anything between me and... and Mr Calhoun. I loved my husband and I've been totally faithful to him." The calm policeman's eyes watched her dispassionately, without surprise or any hint of sitting in judgement, sieving the evidence, weighing up the possibilities of truth or lies.

"But Mr Calhoun is in love with you, Mrs York." Her eyes betrayed her shock. The sharp intake of her breath, the tension of her body.  She went on shaking her head, her lips parted but no sound coming out. "He say he is," Superintendent Rogers said. "No!" she hoarsely denied, putting her hands over her ears as if to shut out the quiet, remorseless voice. "No, no, no!" Her voice rose shrilly, high-pitched. The policewoman was frowning,  looking uneasy, shifting on her chair. The superintendent glanced sideways at her and met her eyes. He grimaced at her. The policewoman got up and poured a glass of water, held it out to Linzi, who shakily took it, almost spilling the content as she tilted the glass to her mouth. The water was cool, her lips were dry and hot. She drank, her eyes half closed.

There was a brief pause, she put the glass down on her bedside table and the superintendent resumed the questioning. "Let us go back to yesterday evening, when you returned home from the office and found your husband waiting for you. Go on from where he began attacking you.." "I can't, I don't know what happened after that. Barty had his hands around my throat..." "He tried to strangle you?" "He didn't know what he was doing! He wouldn't have... he didn't mean it, he just lost control, it was the drink. Anyway, I must have fainted. When I came to, Barty was... w.. was on the floor...," She swallowed. "He was... was... dead... but I don't know how, what had happened." "But Mr Calhoun was there?" She nodded. "Had he been there before you lost consciousness?" She shook her head, a puzzled look in her strained blue eyes. "No, the last I saw him he was driving home. I don't know how he came to be in the flat."

Superintendent Rogers asked, "Can you remember... was the front door of your flat open or shut?" She struggled to remember. The details of the evening were blurred in her mind. "When I got home, I was just going to unlock the front door, I had my keys in my hand... when B... Barty...," Tears filled her eyes. "Sorry..," She searched for a paper tissue, wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then cleared her throat and went on huskily, "My husband opened the front door before I unlocked it, and I don't remember him closing it." "So that it is possible that Mr Calhoun could have walked into the flat and been a witness to your husband's violent treatment of you?" "I suppose that's what must have happened." "When were you first aware of his presence in the flat?" "Not until I came to, I was lying on the floor, and Ri... Mr Calhoun was kneeling beside me--that was the first I knew of him being there."

The quiet voice was deceptively casual. "And when you came to, were you aware that your husband was dead?" "No, I thought Barty must have gone out or something, I told Ritchie to go quickly, before Barty came back and found him, I was afraid Barty might kill him if he saw him with me, and then I suddenly saw Barty, on the floor... I didn't realise he was dead even then, I didn't understand... then I saw the blood on his face. I tried to get him to wake up, but he was so cold and heavy, I couldn't move him.  Ritchie told me to leave him,  he said,  "he's dead" but I wouldn't believe it. I tried to make Barty wake up, and then I saw the candlestick." She broke off,  shuddering.

"And you realise your husband had been killed?" She nodded. "Did you accuse Mr Calhoun of killing your husband?" She nodded, didn't speak, mouth a white line. "Why did you do that, Mrs York?" "He told me he had! He said Barty had been trying to kill me, and he had to stop him." She looked at them miserably. He didn't mean to kill Barty...  I think it was an accident, he just picked up the nearest object and hit out." It was the truth. She had to tell them, for Barty's sake, she owed him the truth. And yet she felt guilty, a sense of betrayal and desolation weighing her down. Barty was dead and Ritchie Calhoun's life might well be ruined, all because of her. Both men would have been better off if they had never met her, yet she had never knowingly hurt either of them. Merely by existing she had caused them pain, and Linzi ached with regret and misery.

"Yes, the brass candlestick," the policeman said. "Did you handle it that evening, Mrs York?  We found blurred sets of fingerprints all over it. Some were your husband's, there was a clear set of Mr Calhoun's fingerprints, and the third sets... would that be yours?" She gave them a puzzled look. "I don't know,  I can't remember handling it that night,  but I was the one who did the polishing, so my fingerprints would be on it, I suppose." "We would like to take your fingerprints to help us eliminate them from our enquiries, Mrs York. Would you mind if we did that now?" She shook her head, indifferent. It only took a few moments,  and after she had washed her hands she whispered, "What's going to happen?"

"Mr Calhoun will be charged with murder," Superintendent Rogers told her, and she gasped, white to her hairline. "It wasn't murder! I tell you he didn't mean to kill Barty, he thought Barty was trying to strangle me, he was only trying to save my life!"