Life's Second Lap (2)
“The maggots have already matured into flies, so it's been at least four weeks since death. No external signs of foul play... Looks like a classic lonely death. Still, just to be safe, hand the body over to forensics. ID the deceased and contact the family. In a case like this, they probably weren't in touch anyway... But we have to try. Once the body's carted off, call in a special cleaning crew to start scrubbing. With this level of rot, we'll need to replace the mattress, the floor tiles—everything.”
Seo Dong-gyun's jaw dropped at my swift handling. I had zero intention of dancing to their clown show. If anything, it gave me even more reason to build my own team.
* * *
“What did you say?”
Hwang Woo-sik's eyes widened.
“Exactly what I said. Be the team leader for the new Team 3.”
“That's... tricky. I just got promoted to lieutenant. I still lack field experience.”
Brother, you've always been light on fieldwork. But your eye for the game and analysis? Top-notch. I'll handle the legwork, so just play the poised lady of the house.
“Close your eyes and trust me.”
Leaning in, I whispered in his ear.
“I've got fresh intel straight from my dad's connections. I'll make you the youngest inspector around.”
His gaze wavered.
Trust me. Let's soar for real this time.
* * *
Room 301. The office marked Violent Crimes Team 3. I stepped in with Team Leader Hwang Woo-sik. Chairs, desks—everything was brand new. Word was, the chief had ordered it all himself.
Hwang settled into the team leader's seat, his voice uneasy.
“So, just two more members? Isn't that too few? The other teams have over ten each.”
“No problem. If we need desk jockeys, we can pull a couple of sharp-eyed conscripts.”
The last ten years' worth of major cases—not just local, but nationwide—were all mapped out in my head.
“Honestly, I'm worried. A new team means competing with the veterans on results right away. Even bulking up with talent takes time to gel. And with just four of us total, including me... Plus, the other teams are talking.”
“Enough. These are our guys.”
Cutting him off, I slid over the personnel file and stood.
“Lee Gyu-cheol, sergeant... He's solid... Wait, Kim Gwang-il, patrolman? A fresh rookie? Lieutenant Kang Cheol-gu, what's the criteria here?”
Hwang's high-pitched voice pierced my ears as he flipped through the pages.
* * *
Heading out of the office, shadows flickered beyond the partition. Voices from Teams 1 and 2 followed.
“...So get this. Cops aren't running a kindergarten. Some fresh police academy punk forming his own team? The kid who should be kissing senior asses for field time?”
“But he's no total rich boy.”
Seo Dong-gyun.
“Heh. Heard about it. Took the newbie on a call to break him in, and you got schooled instead? Pathetic!”
“Not funny. The body's been rotting over four weeks. Normal folks puke their guts out, tears and snot everywhere. But he was cool as ice!”
“Should've shown him tougher shit. Guess you're past your prime, Seo Dong-gyun. Hey, heard the chief hooked 'em up with all-new office gear? Total bootlick. Sucks if your dad's not chief security commissioner.”
“Still... he doesn't seem totally useless.”
A unfamiliar woman's voice.
“That first day, the guys Lieutenant Kang nabbed? Local heavy-hitters. Seoul Comprehensive High alums, elite athletes. Embarrassing, but cops have gotten hurt taking them down. And that belt-tie technique? Not even taught at the academy. Wonder how he learned...”
Figures. Elite athletes. Explains the hassle.
But whose voice was that?
* * *
“Detective Kang Cheol-gu. What the hell is this memo?”
Hwang, face pale as a ghost, shoved the file at me. He must've bolted here after reading it—breath ragged to his throat.
“As it says. Taehwa Motors' Q1 2013 tax balance sheet.”
“Exactly! Why poke Taehwa? Not our jurisdiction, and even if there's dirt, that's for a special probe. Not some local cop! Taehwa's top-10 conglomerate!”
“I'll take full responsibility. Send the memo as is.”
Hwang's lips trembled like he wanted to argue, then he bowed his head with a deep sigh.
* * *
The old Korando's nav pointed to the Taehwa Building on Teheran-ro. My grip tightened on the wheel.
Fighting that guy with just cop networks had limits. A three-term assemblyman's connections spanned politics and business. To him, a police academy elite lieutenant was just a bug to squash.
Hong Gye-young of Taehwa Motors. I needed her on my team.
* * *
The Taehwa Building dominated Teheran-ro's heart. Basement 7, 35 stories above—valued at 230 billion won. Up top: Taehwa Group's third-gen heir, Hong Gye-young's office.
The massive revolving door—three meters high—swung open to the reception desk. A black-uniformed attendant eyed me.
“Hello. How may I help?”
“Here to see CEO Hong Gye-young.”
Her eyes flickered.
“One moment to check. Your name?”
“Gangcheon Station Violent Crimes, Kang Cheol-gu.”
“Police for the CEO...? Hold on.”
“...”
“Ah! She'll see you. Take elevator 4 to the 35th. Someone'll guide you.”
Turning the corner, I caught her low sigh.
“Whew. What a cop stare...”
* * *
Ding. Elevator doors parted. Four black-suited men boxed me in. Trying to intimidate?
“Ma'am. He's here.”
The top dog stood by her; the rest filed out. All-white room—furniture, decor. A late-20s woman's silhouette faced away, backlight casting faint shadows on her form.
Taehwa founder Chairman Hong Joo-in had effectively retired. Four sons, no grandsons. Amid the granddaughters' power struggle, Hong Gye-young shone brightest—boosting her 5% stake to 12% in one year.
“...Detective Kang Cheol-gu?”
A languid voice hooked my ear.
“...Sent quite the interesting memo.”
She turned slowly, eyes flickering before a light smile.
“Thought a lieutenant would be older. You're surprisingly young.”
“Police academy grad. Commissioned straight to lieutenant.”
“Ah, academy elite.”
“Not the dumb type.”
The suit behind twitched a brow. Hong's lips curved as she sat on the sofa, fingers interlaced, chin propped—eyes sparkling mischievously.
“Why send it, I wonder...”
Game on. Playful lips, but eyes icy. The aura of lifelong rulers filled the room.
“Per these docs...”
Her slender fingers flipped my memo.
“Taehwa Group—no, Taehwa Motors—faces embezzlement, breach of trust. Management scandals.”
Lashes quivered.
“Truly upsetting. Selling unlisted shares at a control premium. Company image tanks, affiliates hit with penalties.”
Her gaze sliced me like blades.
“I might lose the chairman's trust. Lose this seat.”
Breaths shifted her emotions like a prima donna's tragic heroine. Hands still neatly clasped.
Not your average woman.
“...Where'd you get this? If it's all true...”
A warning: showing my hand.
I shot up. The pricey sofa didn't even creak. Reached for the memo in her grip.
No ring on her fingers. Once, twice. Tore it, turning to her.
“Truth? Facts don't matter. Only the real story.”
Whoosh. Shreds scattered on spotless white marble.
Her eyes lit with curiosity—like beholding new life.
“Memo's gone. Facts buried. Only truth remains.”
“What must I do to make our truth stronger?”
Koan-like exchange.
“One car.”
“Pardon?”
“Need to smash bad guys, but my ride's beat. New one from Taehwa Motors' CEO?”
Her eyes deepened, then lips quirked. Heel clicks, perfume wafted.
“My card. Direct line—save it.”
Her pale neck arched proudly.
* * *
“Checked him out?”
Long after Kang left, Hong Gye-young spoke. The man behind scanned the file, reporting.
“Yes. New lieutenant at Gangcheon Station. Police academy valedictorian, dad’s the dean. Nothing else noteworthy... Not worth watching.”
“Yang, you're great at most things. But you disappoint sometimes. Hate that.”
Yang Jin-ho's eyes narrowed. Ignoring him:
“He demanded a deal. From Taehwa.”
“Pardon...?”
“Politicos, businessmen, cops—our lines are flooded. Ever had one demand from us?”
“...”
“But he asked for one car. Get it? He wants to deal—with us. With me.”
Yang groaned low. Hong's gaze drifted far, as if to an absent someone.
Her red lips parted again.