Eugene returned to camp at around 3pm. I noticed a fatigue expression from him, and his eyes were so filled with vexation. It was indeed rare, my first time, in fact, to have witnessed him in this state. An unshaven chin attributed even more to his state of seemingly perturbed self.
It was the baffling theft case that made everyone in the office a suspect. The authorities, after much delay, had approached us for the second time.
Eugene stands out most with his unbeatable aura of confidence that always lingers around him. Today the aura seemed beatened. Being accused as one of the prime suspects, he had most probably underwent some psychological barrage from the interrogation. The air in the office was warm and yet he felt cold. He had gone through the polygraph test. Palms grew cold and it perspired as the heartbeat sensors were sticked to his ribs. The test failed him, thus branding him to be a liar.
I vouch for his innocence with my live.
He described today as the worst day in his life. A day when he was grilled as if he is being pinned down as the culprit. He had lost all appetite for the lunch earlier, making him hungry. He bought a packet of hot french fries, but still to only consume a couple of them. I happily took over the remaining. On our way out of camp, I was still heartily munching away when a clerk approached me, "Sir, you've been called up to go for the investigation." Subsequently, the fries suddenly turned cold and tasteless.
On the train, I stared into the newspaper, but absorbed no words. I was so perked up by the anticipation of the upcoming interrogation. So much so that the first task off the train was to get a pack of cigarettes to suppress the racing emotions. The pack is definitely a requirement if there should be polygraph tml.
(to be continued...)
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