Chapter 1
Edward Quan ·
I was a lawyer, but punching my own client had given me a rotten reputation in the profession.
Just when I had nowhere left to turn, the most prominent lawyer in town came looking for me. He wanted me to defend him in a criminal case.
The charges were rape and murder.
That great lawyer used a real case to teach me a lesson.
It turned out that if you took fabricated evidence far enough, even DNA could be faked. Even... a body could be fake.
1
I pursed my lips around a cigarette. A long column of ash hung from its tip.
“Boss, ash that thing. It's about to fall on the skewers.”
“Relax. It won't. I know what I'm doing.”
The words had barely left my mouth when the ash dropped onto a lamb skewer.
Before the customer noticed, I hastily turned it over a few times.
“It's a roadside stall, but you could still pay a little attention to hygiene.”
“There's more charcoal on it than cigarette ash. Doesn't seem to stop you eating.”
I arranged the skewers on a plate, carried them to the table, wiped the sweat off my forehead, and enjoyed the last drag of my cigarette.
All my customers were regulars. Calling me filthy was just their way of teasing.
Real lamb for one yuan a skewer—where else could you find that these days? What more did they want?
“Excuse me. Are you Lawyer Wu?”
The man who spoke wore a black suit and looked to be in his forties. His hair and beard were neatly groomed. He looked like someone in the profession himself.
Lawyer Wu?
That sounded almost unfamiliar.
Ever since I'd punched out one of my client's back molars, no one had called me that in a long, long time.
“Yes. Here for some skewers?”
“No. Could we talk?”
“Oh, sure. Go ahead.”
He looked around, frowning slightly.
“Perhaps we could find somewhere more suitable?”
“Can't. I've still got customers.”
“Here will do, then.”
He looked for an empty table but couldn't find one.
I brought over two chairs and joined the fellow who had just complained about my unhygienic grilling.
“Lawyer Wu, there's a case. Would you be interested in taking a look?”
I pointed at my own nose.
“Are you sure you've got the right man?”
“Yes. Someone asked for you by name.”
“Why? I haven't had any cases coming my way for years.”
“I don't know. I'm just here to pass on the message.”
He handed me a set of documents.
I opened the file envelope. My hand shook so badly I nearly dropped it.
The client's name was Zheng Shaoming, the most famous lawyer in Qincheng. No one else even came close.
“Is this... the Zheng Shaoming I know?”
“Yes. Lawyer Zheng.”
“What's he charged with?”
“Rape and murder.”
2
I asked again.
“You're sure he wants me?”
“Quite sure. Lawyer Zheng specifically requested you. Name your terms.”
Name my terms...
With Lawyer Zheng's standing, money wasn't even the point.
Anything to do with the law, and people would show him some respect.
One word from him, and I could stop grilling meat under the blazing sun by the roadside. I could practice law again, and I certainly wouldn't be short of cases.
But why would a windfall like that land in my lap?
“What do I have to do?”
Instead of answering, the man asked a question of his own.
“Your license wasn't revoked back then, was it?”
“No. I was suspended for two years. It's just that no law firm dared take me on afterward.”
“As long as you still have your license. You would simply serve as Lawyer Zheng's defense counsel.”
“That's all?”
“That's all.”
In the silence that followed, the customer beside us stared at me.
“Holy shit, boss. You used to be a lawyer?”
“Yep.”
“Why'd you stop?”
“Because grilling skewers is my true love.”
The visitor clearly had no desire to listen to us trading wisecracks. He stood to leave, setting a business card on the table.
“Think it over. If possible, give me an answer tonight. I'll show you the detailed files.”
After a few steps, he turned back.
“All terms are negotiable.”
“Seriously, boss, are your margins that good? You make more off skewers than you would as a lawyer?”
“Just eat!”
After packing up and going home, I thought about it for a long time. In the end, I called the number on the card.
“Lawyer Wu, have you decided?”
“I'll take the case.”
3
The next day, I went to the agreed address.
It was the building that housed Lawyer Zheng's firm.
I saw plenty of familiar faces. Naturally, quite a few people were whispering about me. Some even pointed.
Once I entered the office, the man from yesterday smiled and motioned for me to sit.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Lao Xuehua beer.”
“What?”
“Just kidding. Water's fine.”
“Of course.”
He hadn't got the joke and looked a little awkward.
“Do you have any conditions for taking the case?”
“Nothing special.”
He seemed surprised.
“And your fee?”
“The standard rate.”
“All right.”
He hesitated, then gave a self-deprecating smile.
“Lawyer Wu, may I ask something off the record? Please don't take offense.”
“Go ahead.”
“Didn't you consider using this opportunity to join our firm? Or asking for a higher fee?”
“We can talk about that later.”
He smiled.
“Fair enough. Lawyer Zheng said that once you win his case, you can ask for additional terms.”
“An offer that good?”
“Yes. It'll be written into the contract.”
What on earth did Zheng Shaoming want from me?
His firm was full of lawyers, famous and otherwise. Why ignore them and seek out someone with a black mark against his name?
“Would you like to look at the files now?”
I gathered my thoughts and nodded seriously.
“Yes.”
4
The files weren't complicated. I soon put the facts in order.
Zheng Shaoming was suspected of rape and murder.
The killing had taken place on the night of July 19. It was reported at 7:25 a.m. on July 20.
The person who reported it was a hotel cleaner.
That morning, while cleaning the rooms, she had noticed the smell of blood coming from inside one of them. When no one answered her knock, she called the police.
The crime scene was a guest room on the twelfth floor of a star-rated hotel: Room 1203.
At the time of the killing, only Zheng Shaoming and the victim had been in the room.
The victim was a woman, approximately twenty-three years old. Her head and both arms were missing, and her identity had yet to be established.
The amount of blood indicated that this was the primary crime scene.
But her head and arms were nowhere in the room.
Her time of death was between ten p.m. and midnight on July 19.
Zheng Shaoming's bodily fluids were found inside her, and his fingerprints were found on her body.
There were no signs that anyone else had broken in.
Nor was there evidence of a third person having been in the room.
When the police arrived, Zheng Shaoming neither fled nor resisted. He insisted he had been framed.
In his statement, he said he had been drinking that day. He had drunk a great deal. He had arranged to meet the victim for paid sex in a hotel room.
After meeting her, he had lost consciousness entirely. He couldn't remember how he had arrived at that hotel, much less anything about rape or murder.
The receptionist on duty that night confirmed that Zheng Shaoming had booked the room himself. He checked in at eight-thirty p.m., but only his own personal information had been registered.
He had reeked of alcohol and been unsteady on his feet.
No one knew when the victim had entered the hotel.
Unfortunately, the hotel's surveillance system had broken down on July 18 and still hadn't been repaired on the nineteenth.
There was no footage to establish whether the statements of those involved were true.
On the evidence available, Zheng Shaoming was undoubtedly the prime suspect.
And yet I had a feeling...
He had been framed.
Murder didn't fit a lawyer's way of thinking.
Just as teachers tend to care about educating children, and doctors pay particular attention to health, lawyers care deeply about the provisions of the law.
We understand better than anyone the consequences of committing a crime and the punishment we'd face.
Even when we're wronged at work or in our personal lives, we tend to seek a legal solution.
Murder...
Would never be our first choice.
Besides, there were plenty of reasons someone might frame Zheng Shaoming.
He had practiced for ten years, working his way up from trainee to top lawyer. He had handled more than a hundred cases, large and small.
He had never lost.
How many people had he offended along the way?
I closed the file.
“I want to see Zheng Shaoming.”
“When?”
“As soon as possible.”
5
It was the first time I'd met Zheng Shaoming in person.
He looked more haggard than in his photographs, but his spirits were good. His eyes were bright and alert.
As soon as we met, I asked the question that had been bothering me all along.
“Lawyer Zheng, why did you choose me to represent you?”
He was silent for a moment, then gave a remarkably clear explanation.
“Anyone capable of setting such an elaborate trap for me is no ordinary person. He must know what lawyers can do.”