Q: The proof?
A: That’s my signature.
‘I’ve never been to the People’s Hospital,’ I said.
He rapped on the counter, exasperated. I understood.
‘You listen to me from now on. Your answers are limited to yes or no. That’s it.’
I would say yes to everything. He was there to remind me of my story.
He looked satisfied, but before leaving he asked one more time, ‘Can you tell me why you were admitted to hospital?’
I didn’t know what to say. He looked disappointed.
‘Someone hit you on the head with a brick as you were walking through the night market during your New Year holidays.’
‘Right.’
‘You must remember your injuries.’
We were dicing with death here. I was under no illusions that there’d be a miracle, but my lawyer went on to outline the five potential lines of ‘escape’. He made it sound as if the death penalty was the least likely of outcomes.
1. Judicial appraisal.
2. Apportion some of the responsibility to society.
3. Change of date of birth.
4. That there was in fact no intent to commit rape.
5. A leniency plea based on having given myself up.
‘But I didn’t give myself up,’ I said.
‘Yes, you did,’ he replied firmly. ‘Upon your arrest you voluntarily made contact with the police. Before your arrest you wrote three options on three separate hundred-yuan notes. One of those was to give yourself up. Which means the intent was there. You also called your assistant class monitor Li Yong to tell him where you were. For a kid your age, the class monitor and assistant class monitors are the highest possible levels of authority. This shows your desire to repent to those in charge.’
‘I was fed up with the game.’
‘Which amounts to turning yourself in.’
My mother came back a few days later with a spring in her step. She was waving wildly with excitement. Anyone would think she had in her possession a paper granting my release.
‘You must thank your mother,’ the lawyer said. ‘I’ve never seen such persistence.’
‘What’s happened?’ I said.
‘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.’
The Verdict
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.