America: From a Fallen Child Star to the Head of the University of the West

The clock in the interrogation room seemed to be broken, causing Sean to momentarily lose his sense of time.

After an unknown amount of time, the heavy metal door was finally pushed open again.

Vincent Carter walked in. He placed his briefcase on the table, pulled out a chair and sat opposite Sean, without exchanging pleasantries or shaking hands.

“I came here after receiving a call from the police station,” Vincent said. “Detective Russell said you specifically requested me to be your defense attorney. To be honest, it’s a gray area in terms of legal ethics, since I’m still the deceased’s representative. But considering that we share the same goal, I accepted the case.”

"Thank you, Mr. Carter," Sean said sincerely.

"Don't thank me yet, your situation isn't good." Vincent took a yellow notebook out of his briefcase. "Before we talk about your case, I'll tell you about the cell phone."

"explain."

"After I left the apartment, I contacted an old friend of mine in the police department's major crimes unit. His name is Charles, and he's an honest guy, completely different from that Brown," Vincent said softly. "I told him that I had found some crucial evidence at the scene that had been overlooked, and implied that if the police didn't take immediate action, I would leak the news to the media about 'police incompetence and overlooking key evidence.'"

"That worked very well." Vincent smiled. "In less than half an hour, the forensic team returned to the scene. They searched the bathroom again and found the cell phone."

"Where is your phone now?"

"In the technical department. Charles was personally overseeing it. Although the phone was severely water damaged, they were confident they could recover most of the data. This directly led to Thomas's case being reclassified. It went from being closed as a suicide to a case of questionable cause of death, requiring the police to conduct a second investigation."

Sean breathed a sigh of relief. If the contents of the phone could be extracted, it would prove that Thomas was indeed coerced before his death.

"Alright, now tell me about your trouble." Vincent opened his notebook. "About that hair."

Brown said that was irrefutable evidence.

"That's just bluffing," Vincent scoffed. "What did he say to you?"

"He said... well, the microscopic features of the evidence closely match my hair texture," Sean recalled.

"Hmph! Until the DNA comparison results are available, the so-called 'microscopic match' is a joke in court. Do you know how many people in the United States have similar hair microscopic features to yours? Tens of thousands!"

"But what if the DNA results come back?" Sean asked. "What if it really is my hair?"

"That makes things even more interesting." Vincent tapped the table with his pen. "If you really weren't there, how did your hair end up there? This isn't a way to convict you; it's a huge lead."

"This shows that someone is framing us."

“Exactly. And it’s a clumsy frame-up,” Vincent analyzed. “Hair is so easy to obtain. You’re a public figure; you’ve stayed in hotels, been to hair salons, and even attended those damn mutual aid societies. Anyone with a bit of interest can collect a handful of your hair. Besides, hair is movable evidence; it doesn’t have the definite temporal and spatial directionality of fingerprints or bloodstains.”

Vincent continued:

"For example, you and Thomas met on some occasion, or you came into contact with common items, or even the killer had your hair on him and it accidentally fell off during the crime. Without your fingerprints, footprints, or other more direct biological evidence, a single hair is not enough for the prosecutor to build a complete chain of evidence."

"But why hair?" Sean asked. "If they wanted to frame me, why not do something more direct? Like putting the weapon in my car?"

"I believe that if you are truly innocent..."

"I'm truly innocent, there's no need for 'what ifs'," Sean said helplessly.

"Alright, I'll get straight to the point: because time is of the essence." Vincent's tone turned serious. "Thomas died suddenly, and your involvement came as a surprise. The people behind the scenes probably didn't expect you to go directly to the scene, nor did they expect you to attract the police's attention so quickly. They need a reason, a reason that can immediately detain you in the police station."

"And hair is the easiest piece of evidence to forge and the easiest to detect."

"That shows they're in a hurry," Sean said thoughtfully. "They want to keep me pinned in the mastermind's position, preventing me from investigating anything else. After all, what if I do uncover something?"

"That's right." Vincent nodded.

“But Vincent,” Sean looked the lawyer in the eye, “since you know there are people rigging things within the police department, that someone wants to close the case quickly, and that someone is even fabricating evidence, is it really reliable for you to hand Thomas’s phone over to the police? That Charles…”

"Sean," Vincent interrupted him, his tone turning serious, "I know you don't trust this system, and you have your reasons. But you must understand that this system isn't monolithic. There are bad guys and good guys in the police department. There are bureaucrats who want to cover up the truth, and there are cops who just want to catch the real culprit."

"Charles is a very good friend of mine. He's a stickler for logic. If there's really something on the phone, he'll never allow anyone to destroy it. Besides, now that the phone is in the evidence management system, with a serial number and record, it's not so easy to make it disappear into thin air."

"Do you think this is a scene from 'Breaking Bad'? Of course not!"

Vincent finally smiled wryly:

"Have faith in justice, Mr. Pan. Though it is often late, though it is often disguised beyond recognition, it still exists."

Sean looked at the numbers above Vincent's head.

【-60】.

Although it's still a negative number, it's a significant increase from the initial -85. This man, despite his dislike, is indeed a trustworthy ally.

"Okay, I believe you." Sean nodded.

"Very good." Vincent closed his notebook. "The next few hours are crucial. Brown will definitely interrogate you again, and there might even be prosecutors involved. You only have one strategy: shut up."

"Apart from your name and address, do not answer any questions. Do not try to explain, do not try to defend yourself, and definitely do not talk to them about your past. That's my job."

"I will request a bail hearing from the judge. Although it's a first-degree murder charge, given the weak evidence, I'm confident I can get you out within 48 hours. Of course, I can't control the amount of bail."

"Money is not a problem," Sean said.

"That's good." Vincent stood up, straightened his suit, and said, "There's one more thing. It's about that Senator Donovan."

"What's wrong?"

"If she really gets involved, then this isn't a simple criminal case; it's a political struggle. In political struggles, the truth is often the least important thing. You have to be prepared that they'll dig up all your dirty secrets and portray you as an utterly wicked bastard."

"I've always been an asshole."

But precisely because he was already infamous, comparable to Sun Xiaochuan in the US, why fear more filth? When a person has already collapsed into ruins, when news of the building collapse breaks, the public can only lament:

Ah! Let's talk about something we don't know!

"Then let them do it." Vincent sneered when he saw Sean's confidence. "Because when the truth comes out, the dirty water they splashed on you will become a giant wave that drowns them."

Just then, Vincent's phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID and frowned.

"What is it?" He answered the phone, and after listening for a few seconds, his expression gradually became serious.

"I understand, thank you for the news."

He hung up the phone and looked at Sean.

"Trouble is brewing."

"What's wrong now?"

"Representative Donovan, along with several other members of Congress, filed an emergency motion with the State Senate Judiciary Committee. She requested public hearings on the Avalon Fund case and the death of Thomas Reynolds."

"A public hearing?" Sean paused, taken aback. "What does this have to do with a criminal case?"

"On the surface, it doesn't seem to matter," Vincent said with a wry smile. "A state legislature hearing isn't a court of law; it doesn't have the power to convict you. But it can call witnesses, require you to testify under oath, and make prosecutors and police publicly present all the evidence."

"These hearings are usually broadcast live in their entirety on C-SPAN, the public affairs cable television network. People all over the United States can watch them."

Sean understood.

This was a public trial, or rather, a public execution.

In a formal criminal court, prosecutors must go beyond a reasonable doubt to secure a conviction, defendants have the right to remain silent, have legal representation, and are subject to strict rules of evidence. However, these protections are significantly diminished at state legislature hearings.

"She's quick," Sean sneered.

"Donovan has several staunch allies on the Judiciary Committee," Vincent analyzed. "This motion will likely pass within 48 hours. That means you might receive a subpoena for a hearing before you even have a chance to be released on bail."

"Forty-eight hours?" Sean was momentarily surprised by the efficiency of American administration, then realized that this might be a tactic Donovan used to force him to cooperate; the actual process might be longer or shorter.

"Can I refuse to attend?"

“You can invoke the Fifth Amendment to refuse to answer questions that could incriminate you,” Vincent said. “But you can’t refuse to attend. And if you frequently invoke the Fifth Amendment at the hearing, in the public eye, that’s no different from a guilty plea.”

"Then I'll go. Since someone wants to put me on trial in front of the whole nation, I'll prove my innocence in front of the whole nation," Sean concluded.

Vincent frowned. "A hearing isn't a courtroom. There, you don't have the right to cross-examine, you don't have the right to object to irrelevant questions. They can produce fabricated evidence and nail you to the pillory of shame."

"But they also have to produce Thomas's phone," Sean said. "If this is a public hearing, and if they're going to present all the evidence, then they can't hide the contents of that phone."

"And that cell phone is the key to this whole case."

Vincent stared at Sean for a long time.

Finally, he slowly nodded.

"You are truly upright and honest, Mr. Pan."