An alarmed priest interrupts the funeral when the deceased’s son appears in a bright green suit. His dazzling appearance stuns the mourners, but nothing compares to the shock they feel when he tells them his father is alive in the coffin.
Draped in solemn black, the guests paid tribute to the late business tycoon, Mr. Sullivan. Suddenly, the church doors burst open with a loud bang. Everyone was stunned by the entrance of Alex, 22, wearing a bright green suit and smiling.
“Ladies and gentlemen, as we gather here to pay our respects to Mr. Sullivan, we are bewildered,” the priest said. “Alex, this is not how one arrives at the funeral of a loved one. Please leave and return in more appropriate attire.”
Alex chuckled as he walked up the aisle. “Sorry, Father Johnson, for wearing a bright green suit to Dad’s funeral, but I’m not here to mourn.”
A wave of discomfort and confusion settled over everyone’s faces.
“You see, my beloved father here in the coffin… is a fraud and a big liar!” Alex declared, pointing to the open coffin. “But what will shock you even more is that he is still… ALIVE!”
“You heard correctly, dear friends,” Alex continues. “Let me tell you what I have discovered since the so-called death of my dear dad.”
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The dining room was filled with laughter and the delicious aroma of a delicious meal. Friends and family gathered to celebrate business magnate Mr. Sullivan’s 50th birthday.
“I invite you to make a toast with me.” Mr. Sullivan stood up and raised his glass of champagne.
“I want to express my deepest gratitude to my loving family. Thank you, Jesus… for giving me a wonderful son, Alex, for whom I wish nothing but the best… Life is too short to worry so much, my friends. So let’s live this moment to the fullest…”
Mr. Sullivan’s words struck everyone as odd. Alex didn’t understand why his father suddenly sounded as if he were about to separate himself from everyone.
“…Finally, I’m exhausted by this hectic pace of life. The more I think about it, the more stressed I feel. So I’d like to retire to my office,” Mr. Sullivan said, drinking his drink and disappearing into his upstairs office.
Everyone was unsettled. The joyful atmosphere of the birthday party turned ominous, and no one knew why Mr. Sullivan was acting so strangely.
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“Let’s not disturb him,” said Carter, Mr. Sullivan’s brother, getting up from the table. “Midlife crisis! I’ve been there too. Let’s let him have some time to himself.”
Everyone decided not to disturb him until they heard the crashing sound of a chair falling in Mr. Sullivan’s office about twenty minutes later.
“Oh my God… Dad??” Alex rushed into his father’s office.
When Alex entered the room, Mr. Sullivan was lying on the floor, shaking and breathing heavily, as if he were having epileptic seizures. A vial with liquid spilled around it lay near his father. His father’s speech from some time ago echoed in his ears. Nothing had made sense at the time. But now, his worst fears were confirmed when he saw the vial.
“Dad… no, what did you do?” Alex burst into tears and knelt beside his father. He felt for a pulse and shouted, “Call an ambulance!”
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“No, we don’t have time. I’ll take him to the hospital myself.” Alex’s uncle, Carter, who is a doctor at the local clinic, picked up his brother and drove him to the hospital in his car.
Alex’s hopes for his father’s survival hit a wall when he spotted his uncle Carter outside the emergency room, his face etched in agony.
“Uncle Carter… Is Dad okay?” Alex stammered.
Carter placed his hand on Alex’s shoulder. Sighing deeply, he told him the bad news.
“I’m sorry, Alex. My brother… your father died of potassium cyanide poisoning. As his brother, I feel it is my responsibility to oversee the funeral arrangements.”
Carter’s words trailed off and Alex nodded, unable to believe that his father, who had been alive and well half an hour ago, was now dead.
“Dad is such a strong man… he would never have done this to himself. Someone must have murdered him.” Alex hurried home to check his father’s office.
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The house was eerily empty when he arrived. The housekeepers and all the guests were at the hospital and funeral home preparing for Mr. Sullivan’s last rites. Alex was alone with the family dog, Pebbles.
As Alex rummaged through his father’s office, he didn’t notice Pebbles enter. Alex was checking the files when he heard a slobbering sound. His heart raced as he watched his dog lick the droplets of poison spread around the vial.
“Pebbles… Oh my God… Stop!” Alex rushed to his dog, but it was too late. Pebbles had licked up every last drop of poison.
Alex picked up his dog and rushed to the veterinary clinic.
“Doctor…nurse…” Alex burst into the clinic, Pebbles limp in his arms. “My dog… he accidentally ingested potassium cyanide. Please save him.”
“Are you sure your dog swallowed potassium cyanide?” the vet said, examining the dog. “Because potassium cyanide is very toxic. Even a few grams are fatal… but your dog is breathing… and everything seems normal.”
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Alex was stunned. He looked at Pebbles on the stretcher. He looked perfectly fine, except he was unconscious.
“I don’t understand… How is this possible?” Alex was confused. He insisted that the doctor test the dog’s blood.
The results, which came back two hours later, were nothing short of shocking for Alex. There was no trace of potassium cyanide in his dog’s blood.
“We only found traces of sleeping pills,” the vet said. “That’s why your dog is unconscious. He should recover in a few hours. You can take him home.”
“Sleeping pills?” Alex whispered.
He left the clinic with his dog and, on his way back, received a call from the local police station.
“Mr. Sullivan, this is Officer Dan with the police. We believe your father’s death was a premeditated suicide… due to tax evasion.”
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“What’s wrong?” Alex stopped worriedly on the side of the road.
“Your father was recently implicated in a tax evasion case. He sold the company without paying taxes for approximately $10 million in cash. We are trying to recover the missing money. Any information about your father’s financial dealings would be helpful to us, Mr. Sullivan.”
“I don’t know anything about that, officer,” Alex said.
Alex hung up and found himself in a maze. Before one shock could fade, another appeared. He didn’t understand what was happening.
He looked at his dog and a strange thought struck him: “If it’s not potassium cyanide poisoning… then why is he declared dead? Is there something I’m still missing?” Alex wondered.
After leaving his dog at home, Alex immediately went to the hospital, where Mr. Sullivan’s body was being kept in the morgue.
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Alex slipped into the morgue and began searching for his father’s body. The coldness of the morgue haunted Alex as he walked along the shelves, searching for the label bearing his father’s contact information.
After a tedious search, he found the body. But when Alex lifted the white sheet, he discovered the corpse of a stranger wearing a label with his father’s contact information.
“Jesus Christ… What’s going on? Who is that man with Dad’s name tag on his toe?”
Alex froze in shock. He couldn’t help but think that his uncle had something to do with this story.
“When Dad said he wanted to be alone in his office and we were all worried, Uncle Carter remained calm,” Alex reflected. “He told us to leave Dad alone… and insisted on driving Dad to the hospital instead of calling an ambulance.”
Alex went home looking for answers. He searched every nook and cranny of his father’s office, looking for the $10 million. If his suspicions were correct, the money had to be somewhere in the house.
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After hours of searching without yielding anything, Alex decided to check his father’s car for anything that could lead him to the missing money.
“There must be something… where did he keep the money?” Alex was frustrated until his gaze fell on the car’s navigation system.
Desperate for answers, Alex consulted the browser and found an unknown address on the outskirts of the town his father frequented.
“This place looks deserted. Why would Dad go here?” Alex wondered. With a slim hope of finding a clue, Alex immediately went to the address to check.
Half an hour later, he found himself in front of a strange abandoned mansion, surrounded by a cluster of dilapidated houses.
Trash and garbage littered the property, disgusting Alex. It looked like the place was being used as a dumping ground for local residents. It didn’t make sense for a wealthy businessman like Mr. Sullivan to frequent this place.
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“Why would Dad come here?” Alex easily picked a rusty lock and slipped into the mansion.
Nothing seemed suspicious inside until Alex found a trapdoor on the ground, hidden under a pile of trash. What baffled Alex was the trapdoor’s new lock. He broke the lock with a rock and opened the trapdoor. What he found confirmed his worst fears.
“Oh my God… is this the $10 million the police were looking for?”
Alex covered his mouth in shock when he discovered two bags filled with money hidden in a small cellar.
Alex rummaged through the bags to see if there was anything else. In one bag, he found $3 million, and in the other, he found the remaining $7 million and two passports. One of the passports had his father’s picture on it, but to Alex’s surprise, it had the name: Alan Parker. Alex then realized it was a fake.
“Linda Parker? Who is she?” Alex tensed when he saw the photo of an unknown woman on the other passport. “Why is Dad faking his identity? What’s his connection to this Linda?”
The puzzle was put together when Alex found two plane tickets to Miami in his father’s passport. The flight was scheduled for five hours after the funeral.
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“…And that’s how I solved the mystery!” Alex finished telling the story with a chuckle. “If you still don’t believe me, watch this!”
Alex approached his father’s coffin with a mirror in his hand and placed it near his mouth. Seconds later, he showed the fogged mirror to the guests and the priest.
“See, my dad is breathing!” Alex said. “So what are we waiting for? Let’s wake up the sleeping beauty!”
Alex injected his father with a syringe of adrenaline. Minutes later, Mr. Sullivan sat up in his coffin, breathing heavily.
“Hello, Dad!” Alex laughed as Mr. Sullivan looked around, disbelief and horror etched on his face.
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An hour later, Mr. Sullivan and his brother Carter were sitting in the interrogation room, handcuffed. They realized there was no point in running away and decided to confess everything.
“I had planned to replace the vial in my brother’s office with real potassium cyanide… to distract the forensic department… And on the way to the cemetery, I had to repair the hearse… and tell everyone that I had called the funeral home… and that another hearse was on the way,” Carter confessed.
“We had already planned the second hearse… it was a fake… in which my mistress Linda was hiding. According to our plan, she was to carry an adrenaline rush. And in the crematorium, we had planned to burn the body of an unidentified man from the morgue,” Mr. Sullivan revealed, looking at his handcuffs.
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