Man Leaves Granddaughter Only Old Violin Case, She Nags until It Suddenly Opens – Story of the Day

Cathy berates her dead Grandpa for leaving her only an old violin case. She angrily breaks it and finds a strange note inside. The message warns Cathy not to sell the instrument with a dark past and that she could land in trouble if she did. Despite the warning, Cathy's desire for money drives her to take the risk.

20-year-old Cathy and her mother, Susan, sat nervously on the edge of their seats in the dimly lit office of the notary. They had come to receive the inheritance left behind by Cathy's deceased grandfather, Mr. Martin.

With each passing second, the mother and daughter's anticipation compounded, as they hoped the legacy passed on to them would bring some relief from their financial burdens.

"To Susan and Cathy," the notary, a stern-looking man in a black suit and thick white beard, cleared his throat and began reading out the contents of the will, shattering the stillness.

"...your grandfather, Mr. Martin, bequeaths his only possession, AN OLD VIOLIN! And wishes for it to be passed into your hands!"

A moment of stunned silence and tension filled the room...

"An old violin? That's all?" Cathy's eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at her mom and then at the notary.

"Darling, calm down...there's got to be a mistake...let him finish talking first," Susan's face contorted with a mixture of disappointment and desperation as she looked up at the notary.

But reality struck them like a jolt of electricity when he pushed forward a copy of the will for their reference and clasped his fingers.

Susan and Cathy felt defeated, and a pang of disappointment washed over them like a tidal wave. They had come expecting so much more in their inheritance — a grand house, Grandpa's vintage car that was still in good shape, and perhaps a small fortune to escape their mounting debts.

But all they got was an old violin, which was extremely disappointing.

"Only that?" Susan asked the notary, parroting Cathy's question. Her eyes quivered, and her voice choked up. "What about everything else he had? The house. Car. Bank balance?"

The notary's expression remained stiff and cold, as though he was least bothered about the mother and daughter's struggles. "I'm afraid Mr. Martin's past caught up with him…and he had to pay for it!" he said.

Susan and Cathy did not understand what he meant and exchanged skeptical glances. "What do you mean?" Susan turned to the notary.

"Mr. Martin had huge debts due to illegal activities and fraud. The state seized all his assets to repay those he had wronged...and scammed! And all that is left is the violin, which he wants his grandchild to have."

Anger flickered across Cathy and Susan's faces, but Cathy was burning with more rage than her mother because she had expected a really nice "fortune" from her Grandpa that could set them up for their lives.

"What made Grandpa think we would want this piece of junk?" Cathy blurted out, unable to contain her temper. "Mom, this is so stupid. I already have a violin...why do I need this trash? And for what use is this thing? Goddamn old junk that belongs in the dumpster!"

"Sweetie, it's okay," Susan placed her hand on Cathy's shoulder, trying to calm her daughter's frustration. But Cathy was livid.

The notary crossed his arms and quietly watched the mother and daughter whispering to each other, unaffected by their dismay. Feigning politeness, Susan thanked him for his time as she picked up the violin case and left with Cathy.

Deep inside, she was seething with anger and desperation, just like her daughter. The burden of their financial troubles felt even heavier now, and the small hope they had clung to shattered like glass.

"Mom, you can't be serious! I just want to throw this thing away!" Cathy told her mother, pointing to a green trash can on their way home.

"Why do we have to take it home? Your father betrayed us. And now, you want to keep this stupid thing? You gotta be kidding!"

The very sight of the weathered violin case infuriated Cathy. She was mad at her Grandpa for leaving them with something so worthless and worn out.

Upon reaching home, Susan insisted Cathy take the violin case to her room. Cathy frowned and argued. She never even wanted to touch the case again as it kept reminding her of her Grandpa's betrayal.

But when Susan kept nudging, Cathy grabbed the violin case and angrily stormed to her room, swearing under her breath.

"As if I need this useless old piece of SH—!" Cathy scoffed as she angrily flung the violin case onto the floor.

CLICK! The old wooden case leaped open as Cathy's eyes gleamed in disbelief. She paused swearing when she noticed what looked like an expensive instrument.

Cathy had to admit it — it was a beautiful violin indeed! It was impeccably polished and it was almost too tempting not to pick it up and play.

The strange thing was, Cathy had never seen her Grandpa play this violin. He was the one who taught her to play the instrument when she was little, but he did not once show this gem to her, which intrigued her further.

Curious, Cathy leaned and opened the case fully when a strange note popped out from between the strings. Cathy picked up the note and, with growing disbelief, unfolded it and began reading:

"My dearest Cathy,

I leave you a gift that has woven itself into the fabric of my life: This Old Violin.

I hope it'll lighten up the melody of your life in ways you could've never imagined and make you an esteemed musician someday. And good luck with that!

But my dear, I must confess to a truth that's been weighing on my heart. This violin was stolen several decades ago.

No matter what happens, I warn you not to sell it, or you might get into big trouble.

With love and hope for your bright future,

Your Grandpa."

"A stolen violin?" Cathy annoyingly muttered, her mind racing with thoughts. "You left me one thing as my inheritance...and now, you're telling me you stole it! That's just wonderful. Thanks, Grandpa!" she said out loud.

In a fit of rage, she crumpled the note and threw it aside. "How could he leave me something so ridiculous?" Cathy lamented, her gaze drifting back to the violin in the case.

Suddenly, a strange thought surged into her mind as she pulled out her phone. She could care less what her grandfather wanted. She was going to do what she had to to cash in on her inheritance.

Cathy decided to sell the violin but wanted to be sure exactly how much it would sell for, considering it was old and looked a bit different and exclusive from the modern-day instrument.

Cathy put the violin on her bed and clicked a picture. Then, a simple search online using the image search feature yielded an unbelievable result.

"What...no way! This thing is worth…$400,000??" Cathy gasped. "So this IS an antique!"

Temptation gripped her when she realized her Grandpa's old violin held a staggering price tag that could solve their financial burdens and set them up for a better life.

Suddenly, her Grandpa's warning flashed into her mind — He had asked her not to sell the violin at any cost. But there was nothing he could do to stop her. And so, Cathy made up her mind.

Grabbing the violin case, she hurried to sell it for a life-changing sum of money at the nearest antique shop in town.

Cathy clenched the violin case tightly, desperation burning in her eyes as she made her way to the antique dealer's store at the end of the street.

The sign above the entrance read "Russell's Antiques Corner" in faded gold and silver letters. Taking a deep breath, Cathy pushed the door, a small bell chiming to announce her arrival.

Mr. Russell, an older man with silver hair and sharp gray eyes, looked up from behind the counter as Cathy entered. Walking past some of the most incredible assortment of antique items, she approached the counter.

"Hello there! Good afternoon, young lady," Mr. Russell greeted Cathy with a warm ear-to-ear grin peeking through his white mustache. "What brings you to my humble shop today, Miss?"

Cathy tried to sound as confident as possible as she cleared her throat. "I have something I'd like to sell. I already have one at home. And this is kinda old…and not my kind…so I want to give it away for a good deal!"

The antiquarian's curiosity was piqued as he caught sight of the old violin case Cathy carried. He cleared the messy glass table and looked up at her.

"Well, let's have a look at it, shall we?" Mr. Russell told Cathy, motioning for her to open the case and show him the item.

Cathy smiled as she gingerly put the violin case on the glass table and unlatched it, revealing the classic instrument inside.

When Mr. Russell laid eyes on the violin, his expression went from curious to confused as he leaned in for a closer examination with his magnifying glass.

"Hmmm..." the man adjusted his round-frame glasses and finally spoke after what felt like an eternity. "I'll give you $10,000 for it! Deal?"

"What? You gotta be kidding, sir! Do I really look like a fool to sell this violin for a meager $10,000?" Cathy laughed incredulously.

Mr. Russell's smile faded, and his expression hardened. "Well, if you were not a 'FOOL,' then you would've probably known this is a STOLEN violin...and no one will risk taking it!"

Cathy's heart skipped a beat when she realized the seller had discovered the violin's origins. She was annoyed by the accusation, and fear crept into her mind. But she tried to maintain her composure.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about," she frowned. "It's my Grandpa's violin. He left it to me."

"Oh really?" the antique dealer raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "It belonged to your grandpa…and you want me to believe that? That's ridiculous...especially with the history this violin carries. Do you even know what this violin is, child?"

Cathy's hands trembled as she clutched the violin case tighter. She recalled her grandfather's note mentioning the dark past of the instrument. And hearing it from a stranger sent shivers down her spine.

"What history?" she asked Mr. Russell.

"Well, this what you're holding, my dear, is no ordinary violin," he replied. "It's a rare Stradivarius! This violin is from a series of one-of-a-kind makes from the early 1800s."

"A Stradivarius?? Are you sure?"

"Just look at that craftsmanship...and the distinct sound it produces! Everything points at just one thing — it's an authentic Stradivarius!" Mr. Russell said coldly, his left eye looking creepily big as he examined the violin through the magnifying glass.

"And the initials on the side tell me this is the same piece that was reported stolen several decades ago."

Panic set in as Cathy interrupted the antique dealer.

"Look...I don't know what you're talking about. I got to go," she told Mr. Russell as she quickly snapped the violin case shut and turned around to leave. But the man's gruff voice stopped her in her tracks.

"$15,000!" he said, reaching out for his checkbook. "Not a penny more. I'll take this violin from you, and the deal stays between us."

"No, thanks! I gotta go…" Cathy kept walking away.

But Mr. Russell wasn't going to let the opportunity slip. "Who said you have a choice, kid? You have two days to think…two days!" he threatened.

"...if you don't come back to me with this violin, I'll report you to the police. And you'll explain to them where you got it from."

The antiquarian's words sent a chill through Cathy's entire body. She wished there was a way to escape, pretending she never heard him.

But she knew that wasn't going to work. She knew people like Mr. Russell, who would go to any lengths to get what they want. Living in the same neighborhood, he wasn't going to be easy to escape from. Her plan had fallen through.

Anger and fear set in as Cathy left the antique shop, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt trapped, cornered by her grandfather's dark secret and Mr. Russell's blackmail.

Sitting in her room later that evening, Cathy anxiously bit her nails, having realized her problems were far from over.

She knew she had to sell this violin for its real worth as soon as possible. The option of visiting another antique shop in town was ruled out. Cathy feared she would be questioned and threatened again.

She then opened her laptop and anonymously logged into an online auction site, her eyes scanning the interface. Her hands trembled as the mouse hovered over the 'Sell' button.

Summoning her courage, Cathy clicked on the button, and the screen prompted her to upload photos and details of the item she was going to list.

Cathy snapped pictures of the violin from different angles and typed a brief description before pressing the 'List Item' button. In split seconds, the violin was out into the vast virtual world of potential buyers.

Cathy's nerves seemed to intensify with each passing second. An hour later, a notification popped, illuminating her laptop screen in her otherwise dark room.

Cathy's heart skipped a beat when she opened the message:

"New Offer Received - $500,000."

It was an unimaginable amount of money that could change her life forever! Although the offer was from another state, excitement welled up inside Cathy, and she realized this amount was too significant to ignore.

"This is it!" she exclaimed. "This is my ticket to a better life. Mom and I can move to Europe. Rent a nice place. And live happily for the rest of our lives!"

But Cathy's joy came crashing down when the antique dealer's threat roared in her head. It gave her a headache. The way he spoke to her, that insulting tone, the belittling expression on his face...it was all too menacing. She knew she couldn't ignore it, and had to figure out a way to deal with it.

She gazed at the violin case and the offer on her laptop screen, waiting for an idea to form. She wouldn't be able to change the fact that it was stolen, but she could find a way to ensure nobody else knew the instrument's dark history.

Suddenly, there was a wicked glint in her eyes. "Mr. Russell doesn't know who he's messing with."

Cathy jumped out of bed and approached the garage to fetch two cans of gasoline. Loading the cans into her car trunk, Cathy hopped onto the driver's seat and drove to the street where the antique dealer lived.

Cathy parked her car several blocks away from Mr. Russell's house, which was just above his shop.

Her breath fogged up the window as she anxiously peered through, keeping a vigilant watch on his two-storeyed house, with the ground floor being the antique shop.

She knew she had to be patient. Tapping the steering wheel with cold fingers, Cathy waited while simultaneously making sure nobody was watching her.

The coast was clear, with only the faint glow of distant street lights illuminating the edges of the road. Cathy's eyes remained fixed on Mr. Russell's window with the bedroom lights still on.

And then, she saw his silhouette behind the window. He was drawing the curtain while talking on the phone to someone.

Time seemed to stretch as Cathy waited. Mr. Russell seemed to test her patience. It angered her even more. She wished she possessed a gun to finish off the business real quick without getting her hands messy.

But a gun would've made it difficult for things to seem like an accident. And the two cans of gasoline resting in her car trunk were keys to her freedom from Mr. Russell's blackmail.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she saw the antique dealer put out the lights in his bedroom. Cathy was sure he had gone to bed and realized the moment she had been waiting for had arrived.

With calculated steps, Cathy quietly slipped out of her car and approached Mr. Russell's house with the gasoline cans in her grip.

Mr. Russell had pushed her to a breaking point, and although Cathy regretted what she was doing, there was nothing that could stop her now.

Within ten minutes, she managed to pour the gasoline around the perimeter of Mr. Russell's house. Once the house was doused with gasoline, Cathy slid her hand into her sweatshirt pocket and pulled out a lighter.

Cathy's hands trembled. She hesitated for a moment. She wanted to turn around and give up at some point because her conscience started grounding her. But the petrol-like odor, coupled with Mr. Russell's threats gnawed at her, urging her to do it.

Pushing a deep breath out, Cathy pressed her cold thumb on the flint wheel as the flame popped up, illuminating her eyes.

"Bother me now, Mr. Russell!" she wickedly grinned as she tossed the glowing lighter toward the trail of gasoline and backed off.

Cathy turned around and bolted to her car, her footsteps pounding on the concrete sidewalk. A fiery blaze engulfed Mr. Russell's house and antique shop in split seconds.

Cathy hopped into her car and turned around, shattering the silence of the night with the screeching wheels. In the rearview mirror, she saw orange and red flames crackle, climbing all the way up to the antique seller's house.

"Goodbye, Mr. Russell!" Cathy chuckled as she drove home.

It was a 20-minute drive, and as far as Cathy could see, there was no sign of vehicles heading from the opposite direction. It reassured her, and she was convinced that Mr. Russell had succumbed to the 'fire accident' before calling for help.

The following morning, Cathy immediately started packing her backpack, which worried Susan. "Sweetheart, where are you going?" she asked her daughter.

Cathy tried to sound confident. "It's a surprise. Don't worry, Mom! I've got an opportunity that will change our lives forever!"

But Susan was still unnerved. Cathy had lost her father when she was five, and from that day, Susan had gone above and beyond to raise her child alone.

Although Cathy was twenty, she was still a child to Susan. Her motherly instincts told her something bad was about to happen, and Cathy's cryptic answers weren't helping.

"Cathy, what do you mean? Please, tell me what's going on?" Susan turned to Cathy, who zipped her bag and approached the violin case.

"Well, Mom, turns out this old violin is worth a fortune!" Cathy finally revealed as she picked up the violin case. "I'll explain everything later, alright?"

Susan was quite stunned. She tried to convince Cathy to explain more before any rash decisions, but the girl was dead set on selling the violin and turning their lives around.

"Mom, we could live the life of our dreams, okay? Please don't stop me," she argued. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Not everybody gets it!"

"But Cathy...I'm just—"

However, Cathy cut through her mother's words and hugged her tightly. "Trust me, Mom. I won't let anything go wrong. I'm running late. Need to drive a long way. I'll be back home soon, alright? Love you."

As Susan desperately stood at the doorstep and watched, Cathy disappeared out of their gate in her car with the violin case strapped to the seat beside hers.

It had been a long drive across the highway. Cathy was exhausted, and her hands hurt. Her heart raced when she finally arrived at her destination in the neighboring state, hundreds of miles away from her hometown.

A mixture of nervousness and excitement took over Cathy. She could not believe that she was going to become exceptionally rich in a matter of minutes.

It was going to be a turning point. She and her mom would not have to live middle-class lives anymore. The very thought of it gave her goosebumps.

Meanwhile, it was as if she erased the previous night from her mind completely. Like she had burned down the memory of last night to nothing.

Feeding the designated spot of the deal into her GPS, Cathy continued to drive.

Finally, she arrived at her final destination and stopped her car, scanning the landscape around her. Nothing looked promising...or safe.

There was an old warehouse-like building in near sight, cloaked behind tall, dry grass and weeds. There were no buildings that seemed to be lived-in around. It clearly did not seem like the perfect spot to do business this big.

She then spotted a man in a black suit waving at her from a distance. He was holding a big, brown briefcase and was standing in front of a black SUV.

Cathy's heart pounded. With a sense of anxiety and hope creeping in, she opened the car door and stepped out, clutching the violin case tightly and flashing her best smile.

"Miss Cathy? The violinist from Oakville?" The middle-aged man with a bald head and a pot belly approached Cathy for a handshake.

She nodded. "Ralph...we spoke on the call this morning!" he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you, Ralph," Cathy replied, getting straight to the deal. "Can I see the money first?"

Her eyes darted from Ralph to the brown briefcase he was holding. It was quite a big briefcase and spacious enough to hold Cathy's life-changing $500,000!

But then, Ralph put the briefcase on the bonnet of his car and did not open it.

"Not so soon!" Ralph chuckled. "Those are fresh banknotes in there. Ah, who doesn't like the smell of money, right?!"

Cathy frowned, but a pristine smile immediately took over. She didn't want to displease her customer or show her anxiety. Deep down, she wanted this deal to get over quickly and not see this man Ralph ever again.

"Well, show me what you've got in there!" Ralph asked Cathy, pointing to the violin case.

"Oh, alright!" Cathy nervously giggled.

She placed the case on the car's bonnet beside Ralph's briefcase and opened it.

"OH MY GOD!!" Ralph's eyes widened with surprise.

"That's quite a rare and expensive violin you've got there...where did you get it from?"

"It's a family heirloom. My grandfather's!" Cathy replied, her fingers fidgeting nervously. "Can I now see the money, please?"

Before she could say any further, she saw Ralph pull out his walkie-talkie and talk to somebody. "We've got her. Take charge!" he spoke.

"Wha-what's going on?" Cathy panicked. "I...I got to go..." she leaned closer to pick up the violin case and flee.

"Oh, no, you don't. Put your hands behind your back, Miss," Ralph declared, his voice cold and menacing.

It was only then that Cathy understood that she was being arrested. And that Ralph, whose real name was Officer Daniels, was an undercover cop.

"Wait...officer. I didn't do anything. Please, let me go...let me go!" Cathy pleaded.

"Save it for the station," the police officer said firmly. "You're detained until we figure out where you got this violin from."

"Please, I just wanted to sell it. I didn't do anything. It's my grandfather's violin...I swear!" Cathy cried. "He left it to us in his will."

"We'll sort that out later in the station. Right now, you're coming with me," Officer Daniels gave an unyielding reply.

"Please, you have to believe me, officer. I didn't do anything."

Placing her in the backseat, the officer and his fellow female cops hopped into the cruiser and drove to the station.

Cathy burst into tears.

An hour later, in the interrogation room, Cathy explained the desperate situation that had forced her to try selling the violin. However, through all of the detective's questions, she made sure not to let it slip that she knew the violin was stolen.

"Suspect claims she didn't know the violin was stolen by her grandfather...and that she was just trying to sell it," the detective told the police officer following a lengthy interrogation. That's when the officer's phone rang.

"You faxed the person's photo? Alright, I'll check it immediately," Officer Daniels said as a fellow officer hurried to him with a faxed photo of someone just seconds after he hung up.

The cop's gaze immediately shifted to Cathy, who was nervously sitting in the interrogation room.

"Miss Cathy, we've gathered substantial evidence that links you to the arson and attempted murder at the antique dealer's house last evening," the cops told Cathy.

She was shocked. "What? No...no, that's not true. I had nothing to do with that!"

"We have witnesses who saw you near the scene...and the CCTVs caught your car fleeing the area after the incident. You'll remain in custody for further investigation."

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