Chapter 11: This is a Planned Crime
This was a planned crime. A meticulously prepared murder framed on Kim Yeonjun from the start. And if it was planned, certain mysteries resolved themselves.
Why beat the parents only when Kim Yeonjun was coming home? So the screams would reach the neighbors precisely when he was there—making it easy to pin on him.
The gloves? Worn from the outset to avoid fingerprints.
More pieces fell into place than expected. I had to move fast.
I entered the parking lot, got into my car, turned on the radio, and pulled onto the main road.
'Occipital fracture from the baseball bat. Blunt trauma everywhere, all from the bat.'
Kim Hyeongjun gripped it with gloves. Then, trying to stop him, Kim Yeonjun's fingerprints smeared all over it. And when police arrived, he'd grabbed it reflexively, adding more.
But if Kim Hyeongjun's statement was true—if he'd tried to stop Kim Yeonjun—then he'd have grabbed for the bat too. No fingerprints from him? Suspicious as hell.
Prosecutors couldn't have missed that. In the past, Kim Yeonjun confessed and gave up, letting it slide. But not now.
'Still, it's minor enough to gloss over. He could claim he just grabbed an arm or some bullshit.'
I needed that autopsy report. As a prosecutor, it'd be nothing. As a lawyer? Roadblocks everywhere.
I opened my contacts folder for the criminal division and found the number.
"H—hello, sunbae. Long time no see!"
The prosecutor handling Kim Yeonjun's case. Not close, but we'd crossed paths often in Criminal Division 3.
"Yeah, long time. Yang, got a favor."
"Aren't you defense counsel now, sunbae? Asking the lead prosecutor?"
Playful tone. He wouldn't refuse outright.
"I'll help if I can. What's up?"
"Can I see the secondary autopsy on the victims?"
"……."
"Yang."
"That's tricky. See it in court."
"Suspect's a direct descendant of the victims. Cut me some slack."
"Sorry, can't. Suspect first, descendant second. I'd love to, but... no dice."
Hwang Youngchan must've laid down the law. If the boss pressured him, I couldn't push harder.
"Got it. Thanks anyway."
"Sunbae!"
I hung up. If Hwang Youngchan was playing hardball, I wouldn't sit idle. Thought it'd be easy, but obstacles were par for the course.
I scrolled contacts again.
"Hello? Reporter Yun Se-yeon. Cha Juhan."
"Oh, Prosecutor Cha! Or Lawyer Cha now. What's up?"
"Long time. Need a little help."
"You never helped when you were prosecutor. Asking now? Too much."
"Sorry. I'll owe you one soon."
"Ooh, exciting. Spill."
"Hospital and room where Kim Hyeongjun's admitted?"
"Pfft. That's your big ask? You're such an FM robot. Texting it. Buy me dinner later."
"No. Got a hot tip for you soon."
Minutes later, her text arrived.
Yeain University Hospital. Where Ye Hui-suk worked her whole life. Admitting there after killing her? Ballsy.
Usually, you'd bring juice or fruit visiting. Not for this prick.
"Who are you?"
Kim Hyeongjun eyed me warily. Didn't look hurt much. Face fine, hospital gown showing dark bruises on shoulder and collarbone.
"Feeling better?"
"Much. Who are you?"
He was on high alert. I glanced at his fingers. Prints weren't absent.
"Got the autopsy?"
"……You're that fucker Kim Yeonjun's lawyer?"
"Want to check the autopsy."
"Get out! Out, you fuck!"
He swung the pillow wildly.
"Kim Hyeongjun. Calm down."
"Calm? Some bastard kills my parents right in front of me! Why meet his lawyer? Why?!"
Did he know? Above his head, [Lie] shimmered brilliantly in my eyes.
I sighed, dodging the flying pillow.
"I want that fucker rotting in prison till he dies! Hiring some lawyer hack to shave his sentence? Thinking of my parents' last agonized moments... Hic, sob...."
Go fuck yourself. Rotting in prison forever lets him frame Kim Yeonjun, swallow the massive inheritance alone.
"Kim Yeonjun says you're the killer."
"Crazy fuck... Framing me? You believe that shit and defend him? Listen. Right in front of me, he killed our mom and dad... My parents, by that fuck... Sob, hic...."
"And you cashed in the insurance clean as a whistle?"
"……What?"
"Ah, right. Company troubles sorted now?"
His eyes flickered—how'd you know? Bluff, of course. Obvious for an inheritance grab. Fidgeting over realtor calls, then pouncing on insurance post-murder?
"……No idea what bullshit you're spouting. Can't claim insurance after parents die? News broke, insurers called—I just collected!"
"Sure. Nice lump sum to fix your company. Sweet."
"What? Out! Get the fuck out!"
No autopsy from him. Time to bail. But not empty-handed.
Wishing Our CEO a Speedy Recovery
/Lailin Fashion Staff
Finally nailed his business—Lailin Fashion. Nowhere online till now.
I stopped by detention to quiz Kim Yeonjun on investigation needs. If the landlord had come right after indictment, more leeway. Trial loomed; he swung between hope and despair.
"Lawyer-nim."
"Yes."
"……Will it work?"
He looked drained. Gaunt in detention wear, voice lacking confidence. New bruise on his face—beaten by cellmates?
"Any close cousins? Aunt, great-aunt?"
"The aunt I thought was close... gave statements against me."
"Saying you envied Kim Hyeongjun?"
"Yes."
"Grandma?"
"Paternal one never liked me... Maternal one was kind. Didn't testify, I heard."
"Her contact?"
"Phone confiscated. But I know the address."
I noted it. Trial in three days. Move fast.
Packing up, he stopped me.
"Lawyer-nim......"
"Yes?"
"Even if we lose, I'll repay you. Truly grateful. For believing me too."
"You only speak truth. Of course I believe."
"Pardon? I mean, thanks for believing my truth."
I didn't reply. Since ditching the false confession, no [Lie] over his head. Ever. That's why I trusted deeper.
Couldn't say that straight.
Back at the office, I scarfed a meal, searched his maternal grandma's address. Gyeonggi—lucky, not too far. Nap 30 minutes, then go.
Stepped to the balcony, lit a cigarette, lost in thought.
"Anyone home?"
Half-smoked, door opened. I stubbed it quick, went out. Sharp-suited young man—handsome enough for an actor. Familiar face.
"What's this about?"
"Long time, sunbae."