A Yi - A Perfect Crime

‘Kong Jie’s mother has agreed to file a petition for clemency,’ he said.

‘How come?’ I said.

‘Your mother offered her seven hundred thousand,’ he said.

‘Where did she get that from?’ he said.

‘I have savings. I sold the shop and the house. It was enough,’ Ma said.

‘Your mother also borrowed twenty thousand,’ he said.

‘You’ve already given it?’ I said.

‘Not all of it. The first instalment is sitting safely with Kong Jie’s uncle. She still hasn’t promised personally,’ he said.

‘How could she? I killed her daughter. Why would she grant me mercy?’ I said.

‘She didn’t agree at first,’ Ma said. ‘But I said to her, “I’m a single mother, so are you.We both only have one child. Will my son’s death bring your daughter back? I’d have swapped him for your daughter if I could, but that’s not how it works. Can’t you let him live, seeing as we are both alone in this world?”’

‘I said to her, “It’s not easy raising a daughter’,”’ the lawyer said. ‘“She was on the cusp of becoming a woman. It’s our fault, no doubt about it. But it’s done now. We have to look on the positives. This is a chance to display a moral magnanimity rarely seen these days. Beg for mercy on his behalf and you will have saved two lives. This woman’s and her son’s. They will do their utmost to repay you – compensate you, I mean. They will for ever be indebted to your grace.”’

‘And she agreed?’

‘No, she got someone to beat your mother up at first,’ he said. ‘Your mother kowtowed and begged them to name a price. Mrs Kong ignored her, until one of her relatives could stand it no longer and offered to help your mother to her feet. But your mother refused and Mrs Kong spat on her.’

Ma looked down. The lawyer continued.

‘Your mother suggested money. Three hundred thousand wasn’t enough, so she said five hundred.When they refused that, it became seven hundred. Ten thousand, twenty thousand at a time. But no reaction. Your mother fainted. Mrs Kong said, “How do you expect me to react now?”’

‘We’re not sure if it’s a definite yes,’ Ma said.

‘It was a definite yes,’ the lawyer said. ‘All we need is for you to repent in court.’

Five months later the Supreme Court of Appeal held the second trial back in the same courtroom. The fact that there wouldn’t be a third trial gave me some comfort. I was fed up with being chased through the labyrinth. I was me, not some fictional character. Time once again felt inexhaustible, a cataract growing across my eyes. I’d started gnawing at my wrist, which the prosecutor argued was an attempt to escape proper punishment through suicide.

I recognised him, the prosecutor, but he, of course, didn’t know me. His shoulders were narrow and he was stretched tall like a shoulder pole. He sat in the court with one leg over the other, flicking through his papers every now and again, reminding himself of the most salient points. As soon as the trial began, I knew at once he wasn’t taking it particularly seriously. But he nevertheless possessed a foolish self-confidence. He thought he could make a last-minute lunge to clutch at the Buddha’s feet. But still he let slip three gaping yawns. He must have spent the night drinking and playing dice, perhaps with his arms around a woman. His ears were filled with the sounds of karaoke.

After my lawyer had laid out our case, he asked the court to produce the medical examiner’s report. Dr Tears was brought out again and through my lawyer’s questioning was forced to admit that no traces of semen were found in the girl’s vagina.

‘That doesn’t mean he didn’t intend to rape her,’ the medical examiner contended.

Clearly this was an unsatisfactory assumption. ‘Considering the circumstances,’ my lawyer replied, ‘had my client wished to rape the victim, he would have. And traces of such an act would have remained. Was the victim’s hymen intact?’

‘Yes,’ the medical examiner replied.

‘But during the first trial the defendant admitted to attempted rape. And the conclusion of the court was the attempt had been aborted,’ the prosecutor said.

‘The court must place most weight on evidence, rather than confessions. Imagine that a young man of sixty-two kilos wishes to rape a defenceless girl weighing only thirty-nine kilos. Why should the attempt have been aborted?’

‘The law does not allow for conjecture. That is a question for the defendant.’ The prosecutor was suddenly aware of his mistake.

I stood up. ‘I never wanted to rape her, and neither did I try.’

The courtroom erupted; I had withdrawn a confession. My lawyer sat down in silence. He must have been feeling pleased with himself.

‘Then why did you confess to rape during police questioning?’ the presiding judge cut in.

I didn’t answer.

The prosecutor stood up. ‘I would like to ask the defendant what evidence he has to prove he did not intend to rape the victim.’

He was obviously feeling flustered to ask such a dumb question.

‘Objection,’ my lawyer interrupted.

But I raised my handcuffed hand. ‘I masturbated not long before Kong Jie came to my place. Sexual relations with her therefore didn’t cross my mind.’

‘And do you have proof?’ the prosecutor declared. ‘No. Apart from what it says in the medical examiner’s report.’

‘It doesn’t prove you weren’t thinking about it.’

‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking about it. Had I been, there was nothing to stop me going through with it.’ ‘You didn’t think of it?’ The prosecutor was losing his sense of propriety.

‘I thought about it, but I never intended to actually do it.’

‘Why not?’

‘For the sake of purity.’

‘Purity?’

‘I killed her for the sake of killing her. I didn’t want to sully that with anything impure.’

My lawyer finally cut in. ‘This proves that despite the depraved nature of his crime, he did not act completely without principle.’

He then read out a statement that had been signed by over four hundred neighbours, classmates and acquaintances. They swore upon their good names that I cherished the old and weak – that I was fundamentally honest. They collectively appealed to the court to show leniency.

My lawyer began to read each name in turn, but the judge broke him off. He was trembling, as if to say that these few lowly sheets of paper were unworthy of the mighty will of the people displayed thereon. Ma and the lawyer must have used a lot of sweets and red envelopes of money to obtain those signatures. My lawyer probably started it off with a couple of dozen signatures of his own before soliciting friends and relatives.

Then came a statement from my aunt. She had reflected on her own behaviour, her inflated sense of superiority, her rough and arbitrary manner. She had failed to recognise that I was still only a young boy, she said, and in doing so had subconsciously contributed to my destruction. Her statement went on to outline twenty or so instances of discriminatory and unjust treatment, including purposefully leaving fifty cents out on the table to see if I would steal it, only giving me leftovers to eat, etc.

After my lawyer finished reading, he came over to me, his brow wrinkled, his eyes shining fiercely like torches, as if he didn’t know me.

‘I want you to answer my following questions honestly.’

‘OK.’

‘Do you swear?’

‘I swear.’

‘Was it not the case that you really wanted to kill your aunt?’

‘You could say that.’

‘Yes or no?’

‘Yes,’ I said, raising my voice.

‘Objection. These are leading questions,’ the prosecutor began.