The Opening Ceremony
March 26, 1958.
Syngman Rhee's eighty-fourth birthday.
Lee Ki-jo walked the Hangang Footbridge with his family. Rhee had held the opening ceremony on his own birthday and then departed, so ordinary people could at last try the span on foot. Sunrye and Yeongsu were in high spirits at the simple pleasure of crossing the Han that way.
"Dear, the bridge is back the way it used to be, isn't it?"
At her question Ki-jo smiled and told her that it was. The Sunrye who, in his second life, had stood with him in despair before a severed bridge was not here. The Sunrye of his twelfth life knew only that the bridge had been cut during the war.
"Father! Did we cross this bridge too, when we fled in the war?"
Yeongsu asked, and it was Sunrye, not Ki-jo, who answered.
"No. Your father and I took you to Busan before the war even began. We went by train and crossed on a different bridge."
"Really? You left for refuge early?"
"We did. Your father said we ought to go long before anyone else, so we reached Busan without any hardship."
Having said so, Sunrye looked at Ki-jo with quiet pride. Everything in her face said that not one thing had gone wrong from listening to him.
"And Yeongsu—this bridge was built by a company your father invested in."
"Did Cheongsan Construction build it?"
Sunrye hesitated, and Ki-jo answered in her place.
"Hyundai Construction built it. I put money into that company, and that's what we call an investment. I'm not the owner, but when the company earns a profit, they share a portion of it with me."
It was a hard explanation for a first-grader, but Yeongsu seemed to grasp the gist of it and nodded.
"So you went into partnership?"
Perhaps because he had learned his characters early, the boy was quick to understand.
"That's right. A partnership."
Ki-jo took Yeongsu's hand and walked on at an easy pace. As they drew near Noryangjin, he caught sight of Kim Jong-pil's wife, Park Young-ok, and their daughter Ye-ri in the crowd. Mother and daughter seemed to have come to cross the bridge themselves. Park Young-ok recognized Ki-jo as well and brought her daughter over to greet him.
"Hello, President Lee."
So that Sunrye would not be caught off guard, Ki-jo made the introduction.
"This is the wife of Major Kim Jong-pil, of Army Intelligence. Say hello."
Sunrye and Park Young-ok exchanged greetings.
"Forgive me for paying my respects to your husband before introducing myself to you."
"Not at all. I've heard a great deal about the major."
Ki-jo had never said a single word to Sunrye about Kim Jong-pil, yet she met the moment with perfect grace. The two women praised Yeongsu and Ye-ri in turn and fell into talk of Yeongeun. With a last request that she give his regards to Major Kim Jong-pil, Ki-jo parted from Park Young-ok and her daughter and led his family on toward Yongsan.
Walking beside Sunrye, he said, "Thank you for being so kind to someone you didn't know."
"You'll be meeting so many people in your work. You can hardly tell me about every one of them. It wasn't difficult at all."
Ki-jo crossed the bridge slowly with Sunrye, three months pregnant, and at the Yongsan stop they boarded a Cheongsan Transport bus. The conductress and the driver recognized him; their eyes went wide as they started to bow, but Ki-jo laid a finger to his lips, asking them to keep quiet. At that they greeted his family as they would any other passengers.
After seeing his family home, Ki-jo headed for the broadcasting station. In the joint presidents' office, Chang Key-young and Technical President Hwang Tae-young were deep in talk.
"We were discussing the state of the country. Join us."
Chang Key-young told him what the subject had been. It was the Cho Bong-am case. The first hearing had been held on March 14, and the arguments on either side had locked hard against each other. On the whole, though, Cho Bong-am's case was carrying the day. The prosecution had overreached in bringing the indictment.
"I'll tell you what I think," said Chang Key-young, who knew every twist of the courtroom fight. "After reading carefully through everything our Hankook Ilbo reporters brought back, I have a feeling Mr. Cho Bong-am is going to be acquitted."
"What do you make of Yang Myeong-san?" Hwang Tae-young asked. "They say the spy Yang Myeong-san passed money through Mr. Cho's nephew."
"I can't put any faith in it when the source is the Counterintelligence Corps. If Yang Myeong-san were truly a spy, he would never have talked so easily. He would have done everything he could to protect Cho Bong-am."
Chang Key-young did not believe the spy's claims. No—he seemed unwilling to credit the Counterintelligence Corps' findings at all.
"What do you think, President Lee?"
"Well. I really couldn't say."
"True enough. You don't pay much attention to current affairs, and that's for the best. The more you learn about how this country is being run, the more questions pile up. And the more it chokes you."
With that, Chang Key-young changed the subject.
"How is the seasoning business these days? I heard one of the companies went under."
"Cheil Jedang acquired the failed company."
"Did they? That Lee Byung-chull is a frightening man when he does business. Starting everything on a grand scale seems to be his way."
Ki-jo nodded.
Lim Dae-hong had been cleared in the prosecutors' investigation, but by then the company had already passed into Dan Sa-cheon's hands. The cause was a poison clause buried in the loan contract the two of them had signed. Hidden in the terms was a condition that if he failed to repay a fixed sum every day, as though paying down a daily-installment loan, the company would be forfeited. The amount was not large, but once Lim Dae-hong was taken into custody, he could no longer meet it.
Dan Sa-cheon resolved to sell Miwang and set about playing Ki-jo and Lee Byung-chull against each other. Ki-jo kept time with the tune, and Miwang's price climbed and climbed. The deal closed when Lee Byung-chull repaid Dan Sa-cheon's principal and interest and laid a premium of five million hwan on top. The prize campaign could not go forward in any case, so he simply folded the money meant for it into the purchase price and bought Miwang outright.
After acquiring Miwang, Cheil Jedang brought out a new product. It was not truly new. They changed only the wrapper on the Miwang produced in Gunsan and released it as New Mipung, presenting it as though the flavor of Mipung had been improved. Sales flickered upward, then slowly began to sink. Whether from the settled prejudice that Mipung simply did not taste very good, New Mipung—whose flavor was every bit the equal of Miwon's—proved no more than a tempest in a teacup. A product's image was a fearsome thing.
"I'm competing with Mr. Lee Byung-chull, but sales are up considerably from before. And with the prize promotions gone, the margin has risen too."
Ki-jo said it with a bright face, and Chang Key-young and Hwang Tae-young laughed with him.
"Then the first round goes to President Lee Ki-jo."
When Hwang Tae-young said so, Chang Key-young agreed.
"In the second round, put him down for good."
"Ha ha. Well. I'll count myself lucky if I'm not the one who goes down."
Ki-jo demurred. The three men talked of this and that, then turned to business. The topic was how far Daehan Broadcasting had come in going nationwide.
"In Busan, a Mr. Kim Yong-ju says he'll take charge of the Busan bureau. I hear you've met him before?"
"Yes. I met him once, and he was a help to me."
"They call him a turncoat. Are you sure that's all right?"
He was speaking of the way Kim Yong-ju, once active in the independence movement, had turned toward collaboration with Japan. Ki-jo remembered what the man had said to him.
The words had left a deep mark on him.
"I've met Mr. Kim Yong-ju only once, so I can't claim to know him. But he himself seemed to carry a great deal of regret over the past."
"Is that so..."
Chang Key-young, who held the authority to decide on opening the Busan bureau, rubbed his chin and thought it over.
"From what I've looked into, that Kim Yong-ju seems to be running in this year's House of Representatives election."
Ki-jo nodded, as if he had heard the same. Kim Yong-ju would stand for Hamyang in South Gyeongsang in the fourth National Assembly election—and lose.
"He'll have plenty of money. He's running Jeonnam Textile."
"Money, of course. A single suit costs an ordinary man a month's wages, and those suits sell well enough."
Chang Key-young still did not look convinced of him.
"Why not meet him yourself and talk it over?"
"Shall I? A hundred hearings aren't worth a single look—that would be wiser. If he's a man I'll be running a station with, I ought to take a good look at him."
Chang Key-young decided to go to Busan with Ki-jo. Hwang Tae-young, who had no say in management, slipped in once their talk wound down.
"The deficit is shrinking little by little now. Business is starting to have some flavor to it."
"Isn't that all thanks to you, President Chang?"
Ki-jo turned every bit of the credit toward him, and Chang Key-young answered at once.
"Now, now—what are you saying? If the broadcasts are going well, the credit belongs to Technical President Hwang."
"Thanks to me? Nonsense. Because of the two of you, I spend my days doing the work I love, and I'm enjoying myself."
The three of them were busy handing the credit back and forth.
Strike while the iron is hot, as the saying went. Ki-jo contacted Oh Yang-soo of Cheongsan Shipping and asked him to arrange a meeting with Kim Yong-ju. The day after Syngman Rhee's birthday, he and Chang Key-young set out for Busan. Once there, the two spent a day under Oh Yang-soo's roof, then agreed to go about their separate business. Chang Key-young wanted to meet Kim Yong-ju alone for an interview, and Ki-jo wanted to visit the factories in the city.
Ki-jo stopped first at the Cheongsan Seasoning plant to see that Miwon, selling as fast as it could be made, was being produced properly, then went on to Yeonji-dong. After looking over the Claymore factory there, he sat down with Kim Jong-hee of Korea Explosives.
"Have you been staying on at the Busan plant these days?"
"Aigo, don't even start. These days the Claymores bring in more money than the dynamite, they do. I can't rest easy unless I'm the one minding things here. We're supplying the army—let the quality slip and somebody ends up dead, isn't that so? Ha ha ha."
The Ministry of National Defense was buying Claymores in bulk with American aid funds. The United States had earmarked the money the way it did designated project funds, specifying that it be spent on Claymores, and sent it over. Officers who had lived through the Korean War recognized the weapon's worth and were deploying it in earnest. They understood it could stop the communist forces' human-wave tactics.
"President Kim, what if we tried doubling the firepower of the Claymores we're making now?"
Ki-jo offered the idea lightly.
"Even more than this?"
"Yes. Korea has plenty of mountains, plenty of rock, plenty of trees, doesn't it? With so many obstacles on a battlefield, I should think the firepower needs to be stronger."
"Hm. Hearing it, you're right. I'll put a prototype together."
Kim Jong-hee agreed.
"It doesn't have to be double all at once. It might be good to build the power up step by step—start at one and four-tenths, then one and eight-tenths, and so on."
"Understood. I'll line up a whole series of improved models and have the soldiers try them. Ha ha."
After talking with Kim Jong-hee, Ki-jo headed for the bearing plant a little way off. As he drew near, Professor Kim Moon-hwan's voice boomed out.
"Aigo! You there! You think you can be satisfied just because you've made balls this good? Come here and look! Compare them with the Japanese, the German, and the Swedish!"
Ki-jo glanced inside and found the professor standing the technicians in a row and lecturing them. He was running the bearings of each country against the domestic ones, pointing out how the Korean bearings stopped sooner when spun with the same force.
"Make them thinking, this is plenty—a domestic product only has to be about this good, so how much better do we have to get?—and we'll be buying bearings from other countries forever."
Scolded like schoolboys, the technicians could not lift their heads. At the sight of it Ki-jo slipped quietly back out of the plant. Professor Kim Moon-hwan, fastidious to the point of obsession about technical perfection, seemed to be leading the company well. Ki-jo could tell as much from the rumpled clothes and the tangled hair—the hair of a man who had spent four nights and five days in the factory. They paid well, and with a president driving himself like a madman, there was no way the company could fail.
Having confirmed that the Claymore plant was running smoothly, Ki-jo made for the crystal-radio factory, the smallest of them all. The moment he stepped inside, the plant manager started at the sight of him. His face said that of all days, this was the one—that the pear had dropped the instant the crow took wing.
When Ki-jo asked for President Kim Hae-soo, the manager said, "The president has stepped out for a moment..."
Reading the man's expression, Ki-jo asked, "Has he gone somewhere he shouldn't have? Ha ha."
At the casual joke the manager answered with the look of a man whose world had ended.
"Yes, Chairman. The truth is... today Lucky is hiring radio technicians, and the president went to sit the exam. Why he did, I really don't..."
"Lucky Chemical? I see."
Ki-jo smiled at the flustered manager.
"Then I'll have to ask you to show me around."
"Yes, Chairman..."
Ki-jo was not surprised that Kim Hae-soo had gone to the Lucky plant to take a radio technician's examination. He thought he could guess why the man had gone there.
After looking over the crystal-radio assembly floor, he decided to wait for Kim Hae-soo in the president's office. The room was full of radios from every country, and a separate desk stood ready for taking them apart and putting them back together. It looked less like a president's office than a technician's workshop. Ki-jo passed the time looking over the sets the man had collected.