The Rise Of The Belittled Maxwell Arnold

Chapter 4

Maxwell was still in a dazed state when one of the officers placed a handcuff on his hands. He was arraigned into the police van, and one of the officers took over his car.

“How did you have that in your car?” The officer who had checked his documents earlier asked him. He was the one guarding Maxwell in the van's trunk.

Maxwell looked at the officer's identity card, Robert Lawson was boldly written on it.

“Robert, right?” Maxwell asked while the officer nodded.

“Robert, will you believe me if I tell you that I know nothing about the incident?” Maxwell said, and Robert sighed.

“So are you saying that you were framed?” Robert asked him, his eyes glued to Maxwell's.

“I can't say for sure, but that's the most likely possibility.” He said in response to Robert's question.

“I can relate with you. I have handled lots of cases in which the offender was most likely framed by someone else.” Robert paused and examined Maxwell's expression.

“Do you, by chance, have anyone in mind who could have possibly framed you?” Robert asked, and Maxwell fell into a pool of thoughts.

He couldn't think of any other person besides Amelia, and Patrick.

He was with them the whole time in the living room, there was no way they dropped something in his car without him knowing.

“Oh no!” He said as he racked his brain further.

He remembered the wide grin on both Amelia and Patrick’s faces when he had gone to pack his belongings. He knew they were up to something, but he hadn't just suspected that it would be like this.

“I think I know who they are,” Maxwell mumbled.

“Who are they?”

“It's a long story…” Maxwell told the officer about his ordeal, and Robert couldn't help but pity him.

“You mean Patrick Brown? The heir of the reputable Brown's consortium?” Robert asked in shock, while Patrick nodded.

“I am very sorry, and I am afraid I am not in the best position to help you, as I am just a junior officer. My own opinion doesn't count in the midst of those corrupted senior officers.” Robert sighed.

“But I have some advice for you,” Robert said, and Maxwell's face lit up.

“What is it?”

“No matter what, never touch that black leather bag. You can still get the real culprit in the future through DNA and fingerprint.” Robert said, and Maxwell was extremely excited. He thanked Robert a lot for his advice and promised never to touch it. Thankfully, the officers who had inspected it a while ago were all wearing gloves.

The remaining drive to the station was silent. Maxwell was buried deep in thoughts, wondering what the future held in stock for him. If he wasn't careful, he would most likely spend the remaining of his days in jail.

The van screeched to a halt, and all of the officers alighted the vehicle. Robert helped Maxwell to jump down the truck, before leading him to the inside of the station.

“I am afraid you will have to stay here for a while,” Robert said in a sorry tone, and Maxwell nodded. He couldn't ask for more from Robert, he was already so nice to him.

He removed the handcuffs in his hand and locked the cell door. The cell room was dark and smelly, and Maxwell wondered the last time it must have been cleaned.

He looked around and saw a piece of an old mat lying by the corner of the room. He gently sat on the mat and buried himself in deep thoughts.

His phone had been confiscated from him, even if he had his phone with him, it was of no use. There was no one he could call to deliver him from the predicament he had found himself.

After about thirty minutes, the door flung open, and Robert walked in.

“The sergeant wants to see you,” Robert said, and Maxwell gently stood up.

“What's wrong?” Maxwell asked. Even though his mind was turbulent, he tried not to show it.

“I have no idea, you will know when you get there. But please, maintain your best behavior, remember that anything you say might be used against you.” Robert advised, and Maxwell hugged him a bit.

“Thank you, man,” Maxwell muttered and followed him from behind.

“Here he is, sir,” Robert said with a salute, before turning to walk out of the room.

He winked at Maxwell and exited the door.

Maxwell understood what the sign meant, and he prepared himself.

“Maxwell Arnold right?” The sergeant asked, while Maxwell simply nodded.

“After a thorough investigation, we found out that you are guilty of the charges pressed against you.” The sergeant said, and Maxwell's head boiled.

“What? Thorough investigation? Just within thirty minutes?” Maxwell yelled out loud but was met by the sergeant's frown face.

“Are you telling me I didn't do my job properly?” The sergeant roared.

Maxwell was about to reply to him when he remembered Robert's warnings. Dragging the matter further with the sergeant will only complicate the issue. He closed his mouth and just kept quiet.

“So you have two options.” The sergeant said and adjusted himself properly on the chair. He leaned forward and stared straight into Maxwell's eyeballs.

“Pay a sum of thirty million dollars within three hours, or face about thirty years in jail.” The officer said.

Maxwell felt a wave of fury travels through his blood. He wondered how corrupt the sergeant was. How did he expect him to raise such a huge amount within that limited time? There was no doubt that he just wanted him to face a jail term.

The sergeant beckoned to Robert, who entered almost immediately.

“Give him back his phone, so he could make some calls.” The sergeant ordered, and Robert obeyed him.

He escorted Maxwell back to the cell room and locked the door.

Maxwell was dazed, he stared at his phone with no hope. He had no one to call. His only friend was also an orphan like him, trying to get a breakthrough from the shackles of poverty.

A loud noise took Maxwell out of his thoughts as he wondered what the commotion was all about. He could hear loud footsteps running Helter-skelter within the building.

“What exactly is going on?” He asked himself.

There was only a little hole in the room which served as a source of light and air, but it wasn't enough to get a perfect view of the outside.

Suddenly, the door of his cell room broke open, and Robert ran in.

“You are free.”

“What?”