The Shadow Tycoon
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 34
The two policemen standing at the doorway exchanged a glance. The one who had been jotting things down put away his notebook and pen. “There’s some good news. We’ve already caught the fellow who took your property, but we’ll need you to identify him too. You understand what I mean?”
He did not use words like “steal” or “burglary.” He used took. He was softening the nature of the case in William’s mind, while applying pressure at the same time.
Not everyone had the nerve to identify a criminal in person. Someone had run the numbers just last year. Roughly sixty-one point nine four percent of witnesses were unwilling to identify offenders. More than seventy-seven point five three percent were unwilling to testify in court.
That was enough to explain a great deal. It could be seen as one of the rotten fruits of the Federation’s miserable public security. It could also be seen as proof of how brazen criminal forces still were.
In any case, asking someone to identify a criminal was plainly a way of increasing pressure on a witness, but they had chosen the wrong man. William changed clothes at once. “Then what are we waiting for?”
The two policemen could not quite make William out, but they did indeed hope this matter could be “resolved smoothly.”
On the way to the police station, the officer in the front passenger seat began talking about the “criminal” they had arrested.
“He’s a young man, still in school. He denies doing any of it, and to be honest, we don’t really have enough evidence to nail the charge down completely...”
That statement was true and not true. They were treating William like a layman. In a police station, once they decided someone was the criminal, and if they felt it necessary, all it took was a slight adjustment to the evidence to nail him to the wall. Clearly, that was not what they intended this time.
The officer twisted around in his seat and glanced back at William. “I think the kid deserves a chance. A case with evidence this thin could ruin the rest of his life.”
He paused, then went on, “You weren’t hurt, and your losses were limited. If he’s willing to compensate you a little, I think the two of you can talk.”
After saying that, the officer turned back around. He had said what he needed to say. What came of it after that was no longer something a patrolman like him could decide.
As far as the two officers in the car were concerned, William’s choice did not really matter to them one way or another. If the sky fell, it would not land on their heads. They were simply doing their best to carry out what their superiors had ordered.
They said nothing else to William for the rest of the drive. Not until the car came to a stop inside the police station grounds.
“Have you made up your mind, young man?” one of the officers asked as he led William toward the station’s office building and pushed open the lobby door for him.
William gave a calm nod. “Perhaps I really should talk to him.”
“Smart choice.” The policeman gave him a pat on the shoulder and led him toward one of the interrogation rooms. A faint, relaxed smile appeared on his face, and he said in a low voice, “Open your mouth like a lion and tear a chunk off him. He’s a rich bastard, at least richer than we are. You understand what I mean?”
William nodded. The policeman pressed his lips together in satisfaction. Standing outside the interrogation room, he opened the door and lowered his voice again in warning. “We’ve shut off the recording system. Knock when you come out. I’ll be waiting right outside.”
Men this obliging were rare. William nodded firmly and stepped into the room.
In truth, by this point, the entire police station had already mangled its own procedures beyond repair. Before a case went to court, the victim and the offender, or the plaintiff and the defendant, were not supposed to meet.
But that was how things were.
Rules were rules. Reality was reality.
The interrogation room held only one table and four chairs. All of it was bolted to the floor. Young Michael sat on one side of the table, shoulders slumped.
William’s arrival made him lift his head despite himself and look at him. He still could not understand why the ring from his father’s drawer had turned out to be stolen property. It had let him breathe easier in one sense, only to make his heart tighten in the next.
The ring was not proof that Michael had betrayed the family, but the fact that its origin was tainted meant his father might be implicated in a crime. Inside him there was a kind of struggle and pain he could not even put into words. He did not know what he ought to do, and at the same time he felt that Michael had it hard enough already.
The police had spoken to him as well. They would bring in the complainant. If he could persuade the complainant to withdraw the case, then once he posted bail, he could walk right out.
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