Wen Kexing's beautiful wife, Gao Xiao Lian, is murdered, and the police request coroner Zhou Zishu perform the autopsy. The police commissioner gives them fourteen days to arrest the murderer. But is this a simple stalking case or do they have a s...
Wen swore he felt the temperature drop as Du Yuqian turned to consider Tao Hong Po and Lv Liuweng. He stood up to stand beside the handsome elder.
"Zhang Yusen, please pull up the file on the will of Qiao Luo Han. Specifically, the pages on the bequests," Du requested, his voice clear and frigid in the silent room.
"Got it, sir. Would you prefer a hard copy?" At a curt nod, he taped a button and the copier in a wall cabinet whirred. He retrieved the paper, handing it to his senior. Wen sensed danger in the air as his mother maintained eye contact with the lawyer. Du passed the sheet to him.
"Please read paragraph three, if you would, young man." Wen quickly found the paragraph.
'To my beloved grandson, Wen Kexing, light of my life and image of my son, I bequeath all my shares in WenTao Medical Supplies and Pharmaceuticals. I also leave him my books on painting, the three landscapes in the hallway, the small writing desk in the library and the red vase in the living room, as well as 10,000 CNY for his immediate needs.' He stared at the words, a hot anger building. He never received the writing desk, a favorite of his as a child. He glared at his mother. But her attention remained fixed on Du.
"Tao Hong Po, where are the shares that Qiao Luo Han left for Wen Kexing?" asked Du quietly.
"I opened an account and reinvested the dividends," she replied, just as quietly.
"Under whose name is the account?"
"Mine. But I only took out money to spend on Kexing. And LiLi. Their cars, their house, their educations."
"What reason justifies withholding this inheritance for seven years?" Du added an uncomfortable warmth to his question.
"She died just as he was finishing his PhD, the final week. I thought it best for him to concentrate. I meant it to be temporary."
"Temporary? You stole what my grandmother gave me. You withheld my inheritance for seven years and you call that temporary?" Wen stuttered in his anger. "Where is my desk?" Confusion marred her face.
"Desk?" she frowned.
"The writing desk in the library. The one I used as a child, that I loved. What did you do with that?" She waved a hand.
"It went with all the other furniture. We sold all that old junk and deposited the money in your household accounts." Du laid a firm hand on his arm; afraid he might explode or collapse with rage.
"Zhang Yusen, please message Feng Xiaofeng to come here as quickly as he can. Wen Kexing. Wen Kexing," he repeated. Shook his arm. Wen glared at him; bug eyed with suppressed emotion. "I suggest you plan to be at the house tomorrow so that your family can go and accept Lian's gifts. Mr. Gao Shen and his family probably wish to return home. I'll authorize my assistant to arrive about 9 a.m. and help you locate the jewelry on the lists and package it. Also, the items in the safe need to be catalogued for insurance purposes. Would that be acceptable to you? My firm will handle this, believe me." The younger man swallowed, nodded, and shot a venomous scowl at his parents.
"Is your assistant a lawyer?" he demanded in a reasonable tone. Du hesitated.
"If you prefer to have a lawyer present, that's possible, as well as a legal clerk. I understand you have copies of the will and the lists. Please have them available." A knock on the door announced the arrival of the diminutive Feng Xiaofeng. He walked confidently to Du's side and bowed.
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