The Mystery Files - Chapter 17:An Odd Feeling

Ali and Omer accompanied the Qureshi family through the elegant corridors of Dilraaz Manor.

The farther they walked...

...the more breathtaking the interior became.

If the Grand Banquet Hall and the Reception Hall had inspired admiration...

...the corridors surpassed them entirely.

Graceful arches opened into one another with effortless symmetry, while tall windows welcomed streams of soft, fading winter light.

Intricate mirror work shimmered across the walls, balanced by finely carved wood and polished stone.

Nothing appeared excessive.

Every detail seemed to belong exactly where it was.

Omer found himself slowing his pace.

His eyes wandered from one hallway to the next.

An odd feeling settled over him.

The architecture felt...

...strangely familiar.

Not identical.

Yet familiar enough to unsettle him.

For the briefest moment...

...he was reminded of his own villa.

The resemblance was subtle.

Almost impossible to explain.

Perhaps it was the proportions.

Perhaps the quiet elegance.

Or perhaps it was something far too elusive to describe.

He frowned.

"Strange..."

Ali noticed him slowing down.

"What happened?"

Omer shook his head with a faint smile.

"Nothing."

"I just had the oddest feeling..."

"...as though I were walking through the corridors of my own home."

"Perhaps it's just the architecture."

Ali looked around.

"Maybe."

"Grand houses often share the same sense of grandeur."

Neither of them gave the thought another moment.

After all...

...they were escorting the Commissioner and his wife to the drawing room.

At last...

...they arrived.

As they gestured the Commissioner and Mrs. Qureshi towards the plush Italian sofas, Omer hesitated for a fleeting moment at the threshold.

One of the attendants noticed and smiled politely.

"Please mind the mirror work, sir."

"It surprises almost every first-time visitor."

"For a moment..."

"...people often think they're standing among four or five versions of themselves."

Even Ali found himself glancing towards the mirrored walls once more.

Meanwhile, Commissioner Qureshi and Mrs. Sitwat Qureshi, completely oblivious to the brief exchange, made their way towards the plush Italian sofas and took their seats.

Ali and Omer settled onto the sofa opposite them.

For a few moments...

...neither of them spoke.

Both were still absorbing the drawing room.

Its restrained elegance.

Its minimalist furniture.

Omer's attention eventually settled upon a magnificent black lacquered grand piano standing quietly in one corner.

He lowered his voice.

"I wonder..."

"...does Mr. Haider actually play the piano..."

"...or is it simply a showpiece?"

Ali smiled.

"Knowing the Boss..."

"...either answer would be believable."

Across the room, Commissioner Qureshi found himself studying Ali once again.

Mrs. Sitwat noticed it and smiled gently.

She leaned slightly towards her husband.

"This boy..."

"...those sea-green eyes..."

"He looks exactly like Iftikhar Bhai."

The Commissioner nodded.

"He really does."

His gaze shifted towards Omer.

"And the other young man..."

"...he almost looks like Ali's brother."

"The same height."

"The same build."

"Only the features are different."

Sitwat smiled.

"Close friends often begin to resemble one another."

The Commissioner looked at her with mild amusement.

"Mrs. Qureshi..."

"...is that another lesson from your spiritual studies?"

She laughed softly.

"No."

"No spirituality this time."

"Just an observation."

Noticing that they were the subject of the conversation, Omer quietly nudged Ali.

Ali straightened in his seat.

"Sir..."

"...I'm actually the image of my father."

"So whenever I meet his old friends..."

"...they recognize me almost immediately."

Commissioner Qureshi smiled.

"I can see why."

"We were family friends once."

He sighed.

"It's been years since we last met."

"I'm almost embarrassed to admit..."

"...I don't even have his new phone number."

Mrs. Sitwat smiled warmly.

"Ali will give you Iftikhar Bhai's number."

Ali returned the smile.

"Certainly, sir."

"And one more thing," she added kindly.

"When you speak to Samina Bhabi..."

"...tell her Sitwat Auntie was asking about her."

Ali smiled again.

"I will Madam."

She shook her head affectionately.

"No madam.'"

"You may call me Sitwat Auntie..."

"...and Commissioner Sahib..."

"...Shamsher Uncle."

Ali nodded respectfully.

"Yes, Auntie."

Uniformed attendants moved quietly through the drawing room, serving freshly brewed coffee.

Fine porcelain cups were placed before Commissioner Qureshi and Mrs. Sitwat.

...Ali and Omer were served as well.

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee soon filled the drawing room.

For a few moments...

...the only sounds were the gentle clink of porcelain and the quiet murmur of conversation

A few minutes later...

...Mr. Haider entered.

The moment Ali and Omer noticed him...

...both rose respectfully to their feet.

Mr. Haider smiled.

"Thank you, gentlemen..."

"...for keeping my special guests company."

His eyes shifted towards the doorway.

"I believe your friend has been looking for you."

A faint smile crossed his face.

"And I think..."

"...it's time you all headed home."

He glanced at the antique grandfather clock standing against the far wall.

"It's almost eleven."

"There is no point in keeping you here any longer."

Ali and Omer nodded.

"Thank you, sir."

Mr. Haider smiled once more before turning towards the Commissioner.

"You, however..."

"...are not getting away so easily, Shamsher."

"I still owe Sitwat Bhabi another cup of coffee."

The Commissioner laughed.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Ali and Omer exchanged polite farewells with the couple before quietly making their way towards the exit.

As they stepped out of the drawing room, Omer glanced sideways at Ali.

"So..."

"...the Police Commissioner of the city is your uncle now."

He smirked.

"Impressive."

The two of them crossed the grand entrance hall and stepped into the cold night air.

They walked unhurriedly along the broad cobblestone driveway.

Ornate lamp posts cast warm pools of light across the grounds.

Beyond them, the massive wrought-iron gates stood open as the last few guests departed in their luxury cars.

Near the entrance, Sajjad had already struck up a conversation with two security guards, laughing so comfortably that he looked as though he had known them for years.

Ali shook his head.

"You won't believe it..."

"...but a few days ago I accidentally met another one of Papa's old friends."

"Mr. Tariq Malik."

Omer raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Ali's smile faded.

"What he said..."

"...and the condition he was in..."

"...I'm still unable to make sense of it."

"I've been trying to decipher his words ever since."

Omer gave an exaggerated shudder.

"Enough, man."

He pointed a finger at Ali.

"Ever since you've acquired this new habit of deciphering everything..."

"...you've started giving me the creeps."

He sighed dramatically.

"As if that floating head in the Dead Zone wasn't enough..."

"...now I have to brace myself for another one of your mysterious interpretations."

His gaze wandered across the sprawling grounds of Dilraaz Manor.

The decorative lights still glowed.

The marquees remained standing.

Yet with most of the guests gone...

...the estate somehow felt quieter.

Less welcoming.

"Honestly..."

"...this place is already giving me strange vibes."

"And in a few minutes..."

"...I'll be driving you two through that wilderness..."

"...before dropping both of you safely at your homes."

"So have a little mercy on your driver."

Ali smiled.

"Omer..."

"...since when did all this start affecting you?"

Omer shrugged.

"What do you take me for?"

"I may not be Sajjad..."

"...but that doesn't mean I dismiss everything beyond explanation."

He looked ahead for a moment.

"Some things..."

"...are difficult to explain."

Ali glanced at him.

"Such as?"

For the briefest moment...

...Omer seemed lost in thought.

Then he blinked and smiled faintly.

"Nothing worth discussing."

He shook his head.

"Let's just say..."

"...I prefer not to test my luck."

"I've always believed..."

"...it's better to err on the side of caution."

For a brief moment...

...none of them spoke.

Only the sound of their footsteps echoed softly across the cobblestones as they approached the gates.

Beyond them...

...the dark wilderness waited in silence.

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