The Will's Concealed Truth
Oh Il-mu had something to say about the case. Just as he had mentioned to Chairman Kwon Byung-do when he first brought the matter to Law Firm Seungbaek, Oh Il-mu had been the lead attorney for the original lawsuit twenty years ago. On top of that, he and Yu Hwan-il—the lawyer whose name had become central to this retrial—were direct senior and junior colleagues. If Chairman Kwon Byung-do had Oh Il-mu as his legal counsel, then the late Chairman Kwon Seong-uk had Yu Hwan-il in precisely the same role. Oh Il-mu clearly knew far more about the inner workings of this case than I had uncovered so far. Once again, bringing him onto my side before this retrial erupted was proving to be an exceptionally shrewd move.
* * *
By evening, I was parked beneath an overpass on the outskirts of the city, where a nearly dried-up stream trickled past. I had originally suggested meeting after work for dinner, but Oh Il-mu insisted we meet here instead, claiming the conversation was far too sensitive to risk anywhere else. The location did offer solid security. Ten minutes had passed since I arrived, and I had not seen a single pedestrian. I could hardly blame anyone for avoiding such a damp, filthy spot. The sun had already set, lending the place the exact atmosphere where violent crimes in criminal case precedents tended to occur. Just as my curiosity about how secretive this discussion would be reached its peak, the headlights of Oh Il-mu’s car appeared in my side mirror.
Tap, tap.
Oh Il-mu hurried out of his car and knocked on my window. After lowering the glass and confirming each other’s faces, he climbed into the passenger seat.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting, young master. I was trying to wrap up one last task before coming.”
“It’s fine. You were working for our firm, after all. So, what exactly did you need to tell me that required meeting in a place like this?”
“Well…”
“Yes?”
Once I heard what followed, I immediately understood why the meeting had to be this clandestine.
“This is something even Chairman Kwon Byung-do does not know.”
“What?”
The reflexive reply slipped out before I could stop it. The realization that there could be things even the chairman did not know sent my pulse climbing slightly. I was about to learn one of those secrets.
Oh Il-mu cleared his throat, as if acknowledging the gravity of what he was about to reveal.
“You remember the passage in Attorney Yu Hwan-il’s autobiography that Kwon Il-gyun submitted as evidence for the retrial?”
“The part claiming the late Chairman Kwon Seong-uk’s will was forged?”
“Yes. That passage is factually correct. As the attorney handling the defense, I felt I had to be clear about the actual circumstances, which is why I’m telling you this now.”
The moment I heard those words, the entire plan I had constructed for this retrial collapsed. I had assumed the autobiography was fabricated and intended to counterattack by exposing the ghostwriting. If the claim was true, however, I would have to start over from scratch.
“Could you explain in more detail?”
“The late Chairman Kwon Seong-uk did intend to transfer his QS Life Insurance shares to Chairman Kwon Byung-do. However, he passed away unexpectedly before he could revise the notarized will that Attorney Yu Hwan-il held.”
“And then?”
“The original will made no mention of the QS Life Insurance shares. Since Attorney Yu and I both understood the late chairman’s wishes, we added a single sentence to prevent the complications those shares would inevitably cause.”
I nodded slowly.
“So Chairman Kwon Byung-do is unaware that anything was added to his father’s will?”
“That is correct.”
No wonder the chairman had reacted with such genuine confusion when he handed me the case, wondering why anyone would challenge something that was obviously his.
“Then the only people who know this are you, Attorney Yu Hwan-il, and myself?”
Oh Il-mu gave a firm nod, as if to reassure me.
“Yes. After the trial concluded, our QS legal team destroyed every piece of evidence that could later cause problems. No one else should know.”
That statement had an obvious flaw.
“What about the possibility that Attorney Yu Hwan-il told someone else or kept related evidence?”
Oh Il-mu looked away awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable.
“After Chairman Kwon Byung-do took over the group, he worked to erase the late chairman’s influence. Attorney Yu was forced out during that process. I have no information beyond that point.”
As expected, the key to this case lay with Yu Hwan-il. To pursue that lead, I needed more information from Oh Il-mu first.
“What kind of person is Attorney Yu Hwan-il? From your perspective, did he ever seem the type to treat his reputation lightly?”
Oh Il-mu shook his head sharply.
“Absolutely not. He was the kind of man who would starve to death before compromising his honor. If he had been born in the Joseon era, he would have been a principled scholar. It took me days of persuasion before he agreed to add that clause to the will.”
“Then how do you explain the autobiography? Doesn’t publishing that passage damage his reputation?”
“That is exactly what I find strange. Even if he believed a public confession would ultimately serve his honor, the wording in the book is far harsher than anything I remember him using about himself.”
Even if the forgery claim was true, the autobiography still raised questions.
“How has Attorney Yu been doing lately?”
“I have not been able to reach him for about three years now. I send the occasional holiday or New Year’s message, but he only reads them and never replies.”
“Did anything happen between the two of you that might have damaged your relationship?”
Oh Il-mu thought for a moment before shaking his head again.
“If there was anything, it would have been the will incident I mentioned. But that was twenty years ago, and we continued to meet and drink together for more than a decade afterward.”
“Have you heard anything from other lawyers?”
“I deliberately avoided asking because he was my respected senior, but it seems everyone else is in the same situation. No one has seen or heard from him since three years ago. That was when he left his firm. There were no scandals, and he even held a lavish farewell party.”
The more I listened, the clearer one suspicious point became.
“And yet that same man suddenly published an autobiography last month? An autobiography whose contents were then used as evidence in a retrial capable of shaking the entire QS Group’s succession?”
Oh Il-mu met my eyes, recognizing the thread I had just pulled.
“Hearing you say it, I truly cannot understand why my senior would do such a thing. You are as sharp as ever, young master.”
There was one final piece of information I needed.
“You have Attorney Yu Hwan-il’s contact information, correct? Could you send it to me?”
“As I said, he probably will not answer even if you call.”
“I have my own use for it.”
“Understood. I will send it right away.”
After receiving the number, I gave Oh Il-mu one more instruction.
“Tomorrow, please send Attorney Yu a message asking for details about the will forgery section in his autobiography. Let me know how he responds.”
Oh Il-mu tilted his head, wondering whether a reply would even come, then answered.
“Very well. I will do that.”
* * *
The next day, back at Law Firm Seungbaek, I rearranged the puzzle pieces that had been scattered the previous night. Yu Hwan-il’s autobiography was suspicious not only in its content but also in its timing and the very fact of its publication. Regardless of whether the will had actually been forged, the book itself warranted deeper investigation. My conversation with Oh Il-mu had only strengthened the possibility that the autobiography was ghostwritten.
That was why I had asked for Yu Hwan-il’s number even though he never answered calls. A lawyer who had enjoyed a successful career and received a grand farewell party suddenly vanishing without a trace suggested something had gone wrong around the time of his retirement. I had no intention of calling him myself to ask if he was all right—especially when even his close junior could not reach him. Instead, I decided to use the same phone-tracking method that had proven useful when catching the kidnapper.
I summoned the hacker, Yeo Eun-ju, and handed her the number I had received.
“Track this number’s location. If you can pull data from the past three years, that would be even better.”
“Three years? Telecom companies usually do not keep location records that long.”
“Even if you cannot go back the full three years, go as far back as possible.”
“Understood.”
I almost forgot the most important part.
“This time, discretion matters far more than speed.”
Yeo Eun-ju smiled, understanding the priority, and left my office.
“Got it.”
A short while later, I received Yu Hwan-il’s location data for the past three months. My suspicion had been correct. His movements were eerily simple. Over three months, his phone had only registered at two places: his home and a hospital. Even the hospital visits occurred only three times—once a month. The man never left his house. A condition that required monthly hospital visits but not hospitalization, yet still prevented him from going outside? What could that be?
Then the name of the hospital caught my eye in the data Yeo Eun-ju had extracted.
Meru Neurology Clinic.