Heir of the Gold Empire

CHAPTER2

When Frank answered the phone, his heart raced because he assumed it was simply another standard check-in from the school.

However, the severe tone of the principal's voice on the other end chilled him to the bone.

"Frank, you must come to the school right now. Gigi, your son, carried a gun to school." As Frank stopped on the side of the road and stared at the wet pavement from the rain, his thoughts went blank.

It was as if someone had hit him in the stomach. "What? How did this come about?" He stammered, anxiety vibrating in his voice.

"We need you to come in and figure this out even though we're not sure yet. The principal stated firmly, "The cops are on their way."

As Frank sped back towards the school on the motorcycle, his mind was racing. Worst-case possibilities raced through his head, and fear weighed heavily in his heart. How could his son, his innocent, loving boy, have done such a thing?

He noticed the police cars and ambulances with their lights blazing in the rain as he drew into the school parking lot. He had a rush of nausea and his heart fell. With his eyes searching the corridor for any indication of Gigi, he hurried into the school.

The principal greeted him glumly at the door. "Frank, we should speak. Gigi is now being questioned by the police. We'll investigate this further, but your assistance is required."

Frank nodded, questions whirling about in his head. Why had his son come to this? Was it something more profound, the pressure, or the bullying? A wave of sorrow and regret passed through him, making him question whether he had been too preoccupied with his problems to hear his son's pleas for assistance.

Fear and uncertainty weighed heavily on his heart, he braced himself for the worst as he followed the principle to the questioning room. The policewoman, a kind-faced but stern-looking woman, leaned forward and stared at Gigi.

"So, Gigi, can you tell us where you got the gun?" Gigi looked around the room quickly, like she was trying to find a way out. "I...I found it in my dad's room," he mumbled, his voice hardly discernible.

The policewoman looked at Frank, her face expressionless. "Frank, could you further elaborate about the gun? Are you the owner of it?"

Frank's mind was racing, trying to come up with something that made sense. Not even his wife had heard about the gun from him. He had concealed it, believing it to be a secure secret. "No, officer," he responded, attempting to seem authoritative.

"I'm not a gun owner. What my Mr. Ster is talking about, I have no idea."

An eyebrow was raised by the officer. "Are you serious? since Gigi seems to be rather certain of it. Frank, we discovered a secret hideaway in your room. Would you mind clarifying that?"

Frank's heart sank. He'd been quite systematic and careful. How were they able to find it?

"I...I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered out in an attempt to keep up the front.

Leaning back in her chair, the officer kept her gaze fixed on Frank's face. "We need to ask you a few more questions, Frank. Do you have any detective relatives? Any members of the law enforcement community?" Frank's thoughts were racing, trying to come up with any link, any link, to explain the pistol.

However, none was present. He was just a regular guy making ends meet—a delivery worker. "No, officer," he shook his head to respond. "I am not familiar with detectives. I'm just an everyday man."

The cop nodded, her face too expressionless to decipher. "All right, Frank. We'll have to bring you in for additional interrogation. We'll also need to search your motorcycle, home, and anything else."

Frank felt his heart sink when he understood how serious things were. He was deeply and seriously in danger. And he was clueless on how to escape it. With their search warrants in hand, the police officers arrived at Frank's residence.

As Frank watched them go through his house looking for anything that would help connect him to the pistol, his heart raced. Something caught the eye of a tall, lanky cop who was assigned to Frank's bedroom: there was something on the floor.

Frank's heart fell when he reached down to pick it up and saw that it was an ID card—one that belonged to Detective Sam.

After scrutinizing the card, the officer's eyes furrowed and he raised an eyebrow at Frank. "Frank, can you explain why you have Detective Sam's ID card?" Frank's mind was racing, trying to come up with something that made sense.

How the card got there and how it was attached to the rifle was a mystery to him. He stammered, "I...I don't know," "I've never seen that before in my life." An eyebrow was raised by the officer. "Are you serious? since it appears that I recognize this card quite well. I believe we should bring you in for more interrogation."

The officer couldn't get rid of the uneasy feeling he had as they were taking Frank away. He decided to look into it more and gave the station a call to verify the legitimacy of the ID card.

"Detective Sam, we need to talk," he stated firmly. Detective Sam had a worried tone in his voice. "What's going on? At a man named Frank's place, we discovered your ID card. Additionally, the gun we discovered on Gigi is identical to your service weapon's serial number." The officer sensed the shock and astonishment on the detective's part as there was a pause on the other end of the telephone.

"Well....I was at the place and uhm..Just tell the wife to make the explanation to him. However I need everyone to leave the case, it's fine. No harm is needed. I am the owner." With a hardly audible voice.

"Very well then." The officer hung up the call. "Sorry for the intrusion. However, we will advise that you keep your things away from your child. We know this is a fault of our colleague, we just need to advise you on that."

Frank appreciates their efforts and sees them out of the house.

Questions were flying through Frank's head as the policemen departed. Detective Sam's ID card—how did it get in his bedroom? How did the detective's firearm find its way into his son's rucksack, too?

He had the impression that he was trapped in a bad dream with no way out. In his living room, he paced back and forth, attempting to make sense of it all. But his confusion increased with further reflection.

He heard the door open at that very moment, and his wife Maya entered with a worried expression on her face. "What's going on, Frank? I noticed the police vehicles outside."

Frank's gaze met hers as he looked for clarification. "Maya, we need to talk." She set down her suitcase and approached him, concern shining in her eyes.

"What is it?"

Frank inhaled deeply as he searched for the appropriate words. "In Gigi's backpack, the cops discovered a gun. And it's owned by a detective by the name of Sam."

"Oh Detective Sam, such a good man." She mentioned with a smile on her face, leaving Frank in shock.

"I am talking about a man's gun in our bedroom with his ID card. What are you talking about?" Frank questioned.

"Hey listen to me, I don't like it when you shout. Yes, it's what you assume it to be. Sam and I had a great time together and we ended up in bed too."