The Evolution of Genius: Every Night, I Get Smarter!-Chapter 59: Interrogation

And so, I sat down near the terminal and waited.

My mind raced with thoughts, and a fleeting idea crossed it—could this have something to do with Olivia?

The absurd notion that she might have told someone about my peculiar situation felt almost laughable.

Who would believe such a wild tale?

As I pondered, a couple of minutes later, two policemen approached me.

They were fit as hell. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"Sir Maximillian?" one of the policemen asked as I remained seated.

I nodded, "Yes. Can I know what is happening? Am I getting arrested?"

The other officer spoke up, "No, Sir. However, there has been a restraining order filed against you, as well as some serious allegations sent your way."

"What should I do? I have nothing to hide."

The officer replied, "Sir... You have to move. You can either leave the state of Massachusetts and show up at the Police Station in Boston in 4 days for an interview, or you can also come with us now and talk to the detective."

Deciding quickly, I said, "I can go now. Will this take long?"

The officer sighed, "That depends on the results. But, sir, you’ll need to wait at least an hour for the detective to arrive, and the interview can take a while. We hope that you will cooperate."

Agreeing to leave the airport with the officers, I made a quick call to Mr. Reymond, filling him in.

Without hesitation, he assured me that he would take care of matters in Germany.

To streamline the process, he suggested I grant him the rights to act as the decision-maker, and without much contemplation, I did just that.

It would be unwise for him to act against the company’s best interest. It could ruin his carrier after all.

In a mere 10 minutes, I found myself at the police station in the police car.

The officer escorted me inside the building and instructed me to wait in the waiting room.

And just before they left, they handed me a document—a protective order against me.

An order to protect a certain person from me.

It claimed I had committed violence.

The allegations were outrageous, unfounded, and untrue. It didn’t happen. It was so far out that they seemed like they were aimed at the wrong person; that’s how far-fetched they were.

And even though I was slightly shoked, I wasn’t worried.

I wasn’t worried, because I didn’t do those things.

Why would she do this?

I felt like something was fishy about it.

I decided to take a picture of the protective order.

After approximately 30 minutes of waiting, I received an invitation to enter a closed room.

Upon stepping inside, I found a man wearing an elegant white shirt and classic black pants, seated next to a grey desk.

"Please, take a seat," the man gestured as I entered the closed room and I obliged, settling into the chair.

The man behind the desk looked at some of his notes and began, "Mr. Maximillian Sullivan, we appreciate your cooperation. I’m Detective Richards. We have some serious allegations and a restraining order filed against you. I’d like to hear your side of the story."

I was ready.

"Sir, do you have any recollection of what you did on the 23rd of September? I know it’s a far way out, so take your time."

Fortunately, my memory was sharper than the average human’s, so I could recall precisely what happened that day.

"From the 19th of September to the 23rd of September, I was at a Math Olympiad in London, but I came back midday on the 23rd. As soon as I returned, I received a message from Olivia, my girlfriend, or rather ex-girlfriend, asking me if I could come visit her."

The detective nodded, "I understand. Good, that you remember it well. And did you visit her?"

"Well, yes. I rang the doorbell, she invited me in, and then we had sexual intercourse. Do you want the details?"

The detective ignored my comment, "And how was she feeling? Was there something wrong with her?"

"No, I don’t think so. We had fun. We laughed. She definitely enjoyed herself too."

He continued, "And what happened after that? Did you go back to your dorm?"

"No. We felt hungry, so we went to grab something to eat at a nearby restaurant. We had some seafood."

"And is there anyone that could vouch for that?"

"Well, there was the waiter. I tipped him quite a lot. But who knows if he remembers."

Detective Richards nodded, "Sure. And where did you go after that?"

"I walked Olivia back to her apartment, and we said our farewells. I kissed her and then went back to my dorm."

"At what time did you get to your dorm?"

"Hmm... around 11 PM, I think. My roommate Rick was there. I talked with him too. There was also a funny situation that we laughed about back then, so he should remember."

"That concludes this part. Just one last question, were you drunk at the time?"

I recognized the detective’s tactic—an interrogation to spot any signs of deception.

But the truth was on my side, and it will always be in the future.

"No. We did not drink any alcohol. I’m too young for that."

It was really sad reading all those things that were claimed about me.

What Olivia have claimed I have done to her.

In reality, the course of events was straightforward, streamlined.

However, I knew that she didn’t have the evidence to prove those things.

Making me think that she couldn’t have been thus stupid.

"Maximillian. Can I call you Max?"

"No problem."

"Max, do you remember going to Korea?"

This question got me slightly worried.

"Yea. That wasn’t long ago. Early November. I think on the 7th of November."

"Did you get on the flight to South Korea with your ex-girlfriend, Ms. Olivia?"

"Yes, I did. We flew in the first class, sitting next to each other."

"On that flight, Max, did something happen between you and Ms. Olivia?"

Now, what truly baffled me were the claims of bruises on Olivia’s hands and wrists.

What made this utterly ridiculous was that I had pictures and videos of us at Namsan Tower the day after.

Her body was perfect and intact, to say the least.

There were even pictures of us enjoying tteokbokki together with Rick.

"We did have sex on that flight,", I answered.

Detective Richards scrutinized me before asking, "Do you realize that engaging in any sexual activity on a flight is not only against the rules set by the airline but is also unlawful?"

I met his gaze and replied, "Yes, I am aware of that, and I am willing to accept any penalty for breaching those rules."

After another 10 minutes of the interrogation, the detective asked me one last question.

"You mentioned pictures and videos at Namsan Tower the day after. Can you provide those as evidence?"

"Of course I can.", I concluded.

I was bewildered by this situation. Why would Olivia make claims that are verifiably untrue? That doesn’t make sense.

Does that make sense?

After the interview I waited for another 2 hours.

The detective must have been analysing everything with his colleagues.

Finally, he came back and again made me enter the interrogation room.

The detective looked at me and said, "Max... You were found credible. We have found no indication that you are being untruthful or unforthcoming. That means that we have moved your case to what’s called a No Build. There is no probable cause. The evidence will be moved to the grand jury, but your restraining order will be lifted. However..."

I knew they would let this go. That’s because I lived in the real world, and when you’re lying and making shit up, you’re living in another world.

That’s much harder. I would assume.

The detective continued with what he wanted to say, "However, when it comes to your misconduct on the flight to South Korea. You will be held in arrest for 72 hours, and you will need to pay a fine of $1000. Turkish Airlines has banned you from flying on their planes’ deck."

Well shit. I needed to take responsibility for my actions.

"I understand, detective," I conceded.

And just like that, I was arrested for 72 hours.

Considering the circumstances, if our actions were noticed by anyone on the deck, I might have faced a more severe penalty. The arrest, it seemed, was the somewhat fortunate outcome.

I had a hard time falling asleep, but I managed to squeeze in an hour or two, which seemed to be sufficient.

In the morning of the next day, I found myself confined in the cell.

Just as I began to think that this would be the extent of my troubles, a man clad in a sharply tailored black suit approached the cell.

Beside him stood a woman dressed in a crisp and impeccably fitting professional attire.