Twisted Madness (7)
Heo Seon-sil, the detective who pulled up in the battered old Sonata, twitched her eyebrow ever so slightly. For someone who almost never showed emotion, it was an unusual reaction.
“So, you suddenly called me in to say... my mission is... to rear-end a parked car?”
“Yeah. And...”
“And observe the driver's reaction. That's really my mission, right?”
She seemed seriously displeased. Time for some convincing.
“Listen up, Detective Heo. I need you more than anyone right now. This is something only you can do.”
* * *
Through Taehwa Group's Sunwoo Bin, the executive director, I'd secured Park Hyeok-cheol's itinerary for the day. After a meeting with the group's outside directors, he'd be heading to a networking party for the second- and third-generation chaebol heirs. To get there, he'd have to pass through the perpetually congested Cheongdam intersection.
That's where I'd instructed Detective Heo to stage a rear-end collision.
I parked in the lot of a high-rise building with a clear view of the intersection. Through my binoculars, I spotted Park Hyeok-cheol's Ferrari far off in the distance. Trailing close behind was a beat-up Sonata.
Bang!
The sound from the scene crackled through the earpiece plugged in my ear. I'd already equipped Detective Heo with a small radio.
- Oh my god, what happened?
- Looks like an accident.
- Whoa! Check out that car? It's a Ferrari!
- Shouldn't we call the cops?
- Hey, that's Park Hyeok-cheol!
- No way, the one from Gunwoo Group? Awesome!
The murmurs of the gathering crowd filtered through. The bastard stepped out of his car, his face reflected in my view—eyebrows furrowed tight, lips twitching.
Detective Heo scrambled out of the Sonata, bowing repeatedly.
“Oh no, I'm so sorry. What should I do?”
- I'm in the middle of something right now... What a pain.
It was his voice.
“I'm sorry. Your car looks so expensive—insurance probably won't cover it, huh? If you could just give me your contact info...”
- No. Forget it. Just go.
Cheongdam intersection was always packed with people. An accident like this drew eyes inevitably. And his ride? A flashy Ferrari 458 Italia. For a show-off addicted to public attention, his response was predictable.
His scowl had already smoothed out.
- It's fine. You can barely even see it. Just go.
His voice carried the barely suppressed boil of rage. He'd managed his expression for the onlookers, but a hint of fury seeped through.
“Still, I feel awful... Here's my number at least! Hey?”
- I said just go!
“Then I'll be so worried. What if you report me for hit-and-run later? If it's really okay, could you at least write a note saying so?”
The bastard leaned in close to Detective Heo's ear. I heard his clothes brush her collar, then his breath. He whispered so the gawkers couldn't hear.
- Hey, you fucking bitch! I told you to get lost. Who the hell grabs me with those filthy hands?
Even the unflappable Detective Heo stiffened for a split second. Through the binoculars, I saw her bite her lip hard.
* * *
“So, what do you make of him, Detective Heo?”
I sat in the passenger seat of her battered Sonata. The front headlight was smashed—made me feel a little guilty.
“First off, he seems like the type who needs complete control of any situation to feel satisfied. He extremely dislikes unexpected developments. And he has a very strong instinct to lash out at others. Notably... he's likely to repeat the same behavioral patterns in specific situations. He strikes me as someone with serious mental issues, though different from mine.”
Detective Heo Seon-sil's undergrad major was psychology. No grad degree in criminal psych, but her uniquely detached, objective demeanor often made her field advice more reliable than any textbook.
I took the recording and went to see Son A-young, the victim I'd met yesterday. The Jeep roared like a beast's heavy breathing.
* * *
[Hey, you fucking bitch! I told you to get lost. Who the hell grabs me with those filthy hands?]
I played the whispered recording through my earpiece.
“Y-yes, that's him. That's the voice. The way he slapped my cheek and threatened me... even the speech pattern is identical.”
Tears welled in the victim's—A-young's—eyes. Unlike the tears of despair from last night, these were tears of hope: the bastard could be caught.
* * *
Late into the night, the entire Violent Crimes Unit 3 gathered in the office. I presented the investigation log so far, and for a while, everyone fell silent.
“I just can't believe it. Why would someone in that position do something like that?”
Team Leader Hwang Woo-sik broke the heavy silence.
“There are two main reasons. First, his innate personality. Separate from this case, I looked into his record.”
What I was about to say came from his future record, the one I'd seen.
“He's habitually sexually assaulted female staff at entertainment bars. But he buried it all with money and power.”
Detective Kim Gwang-il exploded in outrage.
“What the hell? How does a scumbag like that even exist? And how did we not know? I just thought he was a nasty third-gen chaebol kid.”
Of course you didn't know. It was from the future.
“There are plenty more like that. He beat his driver for opening the door too slow, made subsidiary employees fight each other—winner gets the subcontracts. Of course, none of this ever reached the public.”
“What's the second reason, hyungnim?”
Detective Lee Gyu-cheol panted heavily, waiting for my answer. Ever since we'd confirmed Park Hyeok-cheol as A-young's rapist, he hadn't been able to sit still.
“That's... something Gwang-il knows. There was a party at Taehwa recently. I ended up going, and he had a girl he liked. She approached me instead, so we clashed a bit. Turns out, that was his trigger.”
“Holy shit, what a psycho. He starts a serial rape spree over that?”
Gwang-il's face flushed beet red.
“Yeah. Park Hyeok-cheol's obsessed with pure bloodlines. He can't stand having his existence denied. He... used the group's power to get the Dongdaemun vagrant case files. Then he copied them as a copycat—in our jurisdiction. Same MO, so everyone assumed it was the same perp. He exploited that gap. While we and the task force fumbled... he laughed at us, like it was some movie. And kept raping.”
“Anyway, he's the guy, right? Even if we can't prove the first seven, the recent ones in our area... we can nab him with this evidence alone, yeah?”
At Detective Kim Gwang-il's question, Team Leader Hwang and Detective Lee Gyu-cheol's faces hardened. I shook my head too.
“The opponent's Gunwoo Group.”
Detective Lee Gyu-cheol's somber voice cut in. Sharp as ever—saw the reality beyond the anger.
“No way! Gunwoo Group ain't invincible. The victim ID'd the voice. And we couldn't pinpoint him before, but now we can—run a detailed DNA test, something's gotta match!”
“They'll sic top lawyers costing hundreds of millions on us. Plenty of room for counterarguments. Claim the victim was too terrified to judge right, insufficient evidence. No mandatory DNA testing, so they dodge that. In the end, defamation suits and whatever else—they'll dismantle our team. By his hand...”
“Argh! Fucking hell. We don't have lawyers worth hundreds of millions? What kinda bullshit is this?!”
Bam! Kim's fist slammed the wall. The framed picture shook.
“There's a way.”
All eyes turned to me. Kim Gwang-il's head whipped around so fast it nearly whistled.
“He'll strike again.”
“How can you be sure?”
Detective Lee hesitated before speaking.
“I know him well. Once he targets someone, he doesn't leave them half-alive. He aims for total destruction. This time, the target's me. Our team—actually, me specifically—getting trashed in the media, finger-pointed and mocked by the public. Until we're buried, he'll keep going. That's Park Hyeok-cheol.”
“...And?”
“From now on, our team runs 24/7 surveillance in three shifts. He'll move again for sure.”
* * *
- Hyungnim! He's on the move!
In the middle of Olympic Boulevard. Detective Kim Gwang-il's urgent voice blared through the earpiece from the tail.
“Report the situation.”
- 22:24 now. No driver, target's solo, heading toward Hyeonjeong-dong. Hat pulled low, shabby clothes. That fucker's 100% out to cause trouble!
“Tail quietly. Send the address once destination's clear. Watch only—no rash moves.”
- Got it. Called in the whole team.
My eyes met in the rearview mirror. An inexplicable unease made them flicker.
A few days ago, Kim's frantic shout still rang in my ears.
'No! Don't go alone! That guy's dangerous.'
Olympic Boulevard felt endlessly long tonight. I wanted to U-turn, but...
The Han River flowed on indifferently.
* * *
Screech!
I slammed the brakes so hard the narrow alley echoed wildly. I'd blown every signal, but it still took 20 minutes to reach Cheonun Villa, per Kim's tip.
Room 209. The door swung open to a shadow collapsing forward. A familiar silhouette. I caught him as he fell.
Gwang-il!
A knife was buried in his gut.
Thump! Thump! Blood surged out in time with my pounding heart.
“H-hyungnim. He's... over there!”
Even spilling blood, his trembling finger pointed to a dark corner of the room.
The bastard was here—in this very space.
Whoosh! A gust, and I whipped around.
A naked woman lay in the room, too terrified to cover herself.
And crossing past her, a shadow hurled itself out the window.
'It's him! But...?!'
In that split second, scenarios flashed by.
Color drained from Gwang-il's face. My eyes darted between him and the bastard.
Thud thud thud! Urgent footsteps pounded up the stairs. The door nearly shattered open.
“Detective Kang? No, Gwang-il! What the hell?!”
“Gyu-cheol! Cover Gwang-il! Call 119 now! I'm in pursuit.”
I leaped out the window he'd escaped through. Wind sliced my ears like a blade.
Ahead, the bastard sprinted madly.
Vroom! Without even shutting the driver's door, his Benz C300 roared to life with a heavy engine growl and peeled out.
Heart racing, my hands shook fumbling for the Wrangler keys. Lose him now, and there's no next chance!
I yanked the door open fiercely.