Twisted Madness (5)
“I’ll drive.”
“Why? I got it.”
“It’s uncomfortable riding in a car driven by a superior.”
An old Sonata rattled over from the corner of the parking lot. It looked like something that had rolled off the assembly line before Detective Heo was even born. A junker so ancient it was a miracle it even moved.
“As long as the axle and engine are intact, a car’ll roll somehow.”
She answered without even glancing over, as if she’d anticipated his reaction.
“We need to meet the victim first. Let’s head to Hong Yeon-dong, where it happened. The victim’s a woman, and given the nature of the case, you’ll take the lead on the interview this time. The key things to probe with this victim are…”
* * *
A woman in her early twenties. Her face was pale. The shock hadn’t worn off yet—she was shivering even bundled up in a thick coat.
“So, you’re saying you don’t remember anything about his face or build?”
“Yes. It was too dark… and he deliberately lowered his voice. He seemed big, but I’m not sure exactly. At the end, he forced my mouth open… sob sob sob.”
“Hold on a second. When the perp pried your mouth open, did you notice anything off? Like rough fingertips or something…?”
Detective Heo’s eyes sharpened. It was the point he’d emphasized as the top priority during the drive over.
“No. The texture felt normal.”
They wrapped up the interview and got back in the car. No real leads.
“One victim’s word isn’t enough. We need a control group, but they’re all refusing to talk… What do you think, Detective Heo? Can you persuade the others?”
“If it’s necessary, I’ll try.”
* * *
“We’re done here. Get out! I’m sick of cops! You asked your questions—why come back? You can’t even catch the bastard!”
The woman in slippers gripped the door handle tight. The moment they identified themselves, she raised her voice and tried to shoo them away. Tears welled in her eyes. She’d clearly been hounded to exhaustion.
“Quit throwing a tantrum.”
Detective Heo Seon-sil slipped her foot into the half-open door and replied flatly. Her face was masklike, unchanging.
“W-what did you say?!”
“Don’t you want to catch the bastard who did that to you, Yoo Sun? Don’t you want to kill him? But do you think he’ll repent just because you sit here bawling? Turn himself in? If you want him caught, then move. Or are you thinking, ‘I got screwed, so all the other women can too’?”
“Stop! What do you know? Who the hell are you! sob.”
The victim named Yoo Sun collapsed, shoulders heaving with sobs. Detective Heo… didn’t comfort her.
“…Can you really, really catch him?”
After a long bout of weeping, the woman lifted her head. Her face was a tear-streaked mess, hard to read, but her gaze locked onto them. Detective Heo’s head nodded slowly, up and down.
“That night… I’d just finished overtime and was coming home when someone followed me in before I could even close the door. He… told me to take off my clothes… Said he’d let me live if I just did what he said… He had a mask on, so no age, nothing. I glimpsed his body—it was waxed clean, not a hair anywhere. Oh! And when he touched me… the feel was weird. Like bugs crawling, all rough and scratchy. Like touching sawdust with bare hands…”
Fingernails with manicure!
“Did you tell the previous detectives exactly the same thing?”
“No!”
Yoo Sun’s eyes widened suddenly.
“Those cops… they just asked stupid shit.”
She began trembling from her fingertips, all the way through her body.
“How’s my dating life usually? Do I only have sex with one boyfriend? Any chance it’s someone I know? In some ways, they abused me worse than the rapist…”
She squeezed out those last words and shut her eyes.
* * *
He stared out the passenger window. The street’s neon signs blazed on, oblivious to the victim’s pain.
According to history as he knew it, the seven cases in Injin-gu were Park Si-woong’s doing. But last night’s in Hong Yeon-dong was a new perp—a copycat.
The past had twisted. Was it the butterfly effect from his existence?
He shook his head with a sigh and glanced at the driver’s seat. Detective Heo remained expressionless.
“Your interview style with victims was pretty rough… Who’d you learn that from?”
“Rape victims’ psyches are extremely unstable. Like a ball that could bounce anywhere… Guilt about themselves, rage at the perp—they coexist. Sometimes they resent the whole world. Even think everyone should crash and burn together. They wonder how it’d feel if another victim popped up—maybe it’d make things a little better? ‘I’m not the only one suffering.’ Then they get chills at themselves for even thinking it. I just pulled that trigger on her psyche.”
“Huh, how’d you know all that?”
“I just know. I’m a woman. And I was a rape victim too.”
His head snapped toward her involuntarily. She was still expressionless.
* * *
“Time for the case briefing.”
Detective Hwang, Kim Gwang-il, and Detective Lee Gyu-cheol focused on him. At the end of the table, Detective Heo Seon-sil had her laptop open, typing in Word.
“First off, based on our investigation so far, this barefoot rapist isn’t a lone wolf—odds are high.”
Everyone except Detective Heo widened their eyes.
“Crime squad reached the same conclusion?”
Detective Lee tapped his pen against his head—his nervous tic.
“Nah, those idiots still think lone wolf. We beat ’em to the punch. The first seven cases and last night’s in Hong Yeon-dong—different perps. We track both at once. Profiling pins the Injin-gu guy as a local in his mid-twenties. High chance he’s a hometown boy, so we canvas prior offenders for similar crimes. Detective Hwang, take Kim and handle it. Detective Heo backs you up.”
“Got it.”
Detective Hwang’s brow furrowed as he glanced at Detective Heo. Ignoring his expression, he pored over the case files.
He already knew from past records that the Injin-gu barefoot was Park Si-woong. Stake out the eighth crime scene, tail him, and it’d be solved easy. If nothing changed.
But now a copycat had appeared. Media devoted golden time slots to the barefoot rapist, public outrage swelled, cops tightened the net. Park Si-woong pulling off another in this climate? Slim odds.
He’d alerted nearby precincts to canvas his old haunts anyway, but reports said he’d cleared out suddenly. No trace. No evidence for a public manhunt, so old-school footwork was the only play.
“Detective Lee, you’re with me securing CCTV near victim houses. Something might turn up.”
* * *
[Breaking news. The serial rape case has spread beyond Injin-gu to Gangcheon-gu in Seoul. Last night on Chungseong-ro, bringing the total victims to nine. Citizens decry police incompetence, demanding real solutions.]
The live comments were on fire.
- When did Korea become rape central?
ㄴ Totally. What the hell are the cops doing?
ㄴ 2222222222
- Korean police are tax thieves?
ㄴ Exactly. A country where thieves catch thieves.
ㄴ This is our nation? lmao
[Police issued a statement vowing swift resolution, but their fallen credibility offers no reassurance…]
Ding!
Jeong San-dong, some semi-basement one-room. In the dark room, a man’s hand shut off the TV with the remote. Veins bulged from his hand up to his shoulder. Muscles twitched like he’d trained to the extreme—intimidating. But his honed blade of a body felt off somehow.
Passing car headlights flashed through the window, illuminating the room. The hefty naked man rose. No body hair anywhere—a must for any adult male.
Before his eyes, something writhed. A pale naked woman clutched her mouth, stifling screams. As he dressed, he spoke. A hoarse voice rumbled low from his throat.
“I’ll watch from outside. One hour as promised—then call the cops or whatever. Move early, and I might try corpse play for a new thrill. You don’t wanna get fucked even as a body, right?”
The tear-streaked woman nodded frantically. Greed flickered in his eyes as he eyed her—but then shifted away, to someone else far off.
The man strode confidently down a dark alley. He’d already mapped the CCTV routes. Entering the neon-lit red-light district, he pulled out his phone.
“Yeah, it’s me. Have a car waiting at the meet spot.”
- Yes, sir. Understood, Director Park Hyeok-cheol.
His gaze drifted far again. Calling out to someone.
What the hell are you doing, Kang Cheol-gu? Can’t you hear me? Cases keep popping in your turf! Prove what you’re made of…
The corner of the man’s mouth curled up quietly.
* * *
“What the fuck are you idiots doing? Haven’t you seen the media ripping us apart? I trusted you with this—show results or else!”
Chief Kim Dong-sik’s tirade left Detective Hwang’s face flushed, head bowed.
“Keep fucking up like this, and you’re all out of a job. Remember: one week. No catch in a week, don’t show your faces again!”
“Yes, sir.”
Long after returning to the office, Detective Hwang’s lips stayed pressed tight.
* * *
“Hyungnim, we shook everywhere—nothing. This bastard knows the CCTV paths. Canvas turned up zilch too. Ghost like a pro.”
“Before the crime squad stirs, let’s hit Jeong San-dong first. Secure the victim’s statement. Victim’s Son Ah-young, right?”
* * *
Son Ah-young. Face bruised black-and-blue, lips split. Barely twenty, set to start college next spring. More child than woman. Imagining this kid enduring that hell stirred guilt. And it happened in their jurisdiction.
Staring at the blank wall, last night’s bastard flashed in his mind.
This fucker! I’ll grind him to dust.
Swallowing rage, he resumed the victim interview.
“Alright, Ah-young. Take it slow. Want a female officer if it’s uncomfortable?”
The statue-stiff girl’s throat bobbed up slowly. Her tiny mouth hesitated, then parted with effort.
“H-help me. Catch that devil. Make last night just a nightmare… Let me believe nothing’s changed, so I can live like that!”
Sometimes one gesture hits harder than ten words. He gently took her small, trembling hand. The shakes eased.
“When he r-raped me, it hurt so bad, was so scary. I shoved him with all I had without thinking. He slapped me hard, furious. ‘Don’t touch me with your filthy hands!’ ‘Bitches like you just obey!’ I don’t even know why he snapped like that!”
Detective Lee’s pen slipped from his hand mid-note. A sigh followed, choking down boiling fury.