Twisted Madness (11)
“Act like a dog that lost the fight—beg for scraps with your tail between your legs. Don't bark half-assed. And one more thing, Geonwoo Group will never save you.”
Whether it was rage or humiliation, his eyes turned bloodshot. Only his perfectly fine hands trembled uncontrollably.
* * *
Ching! The crystal glass grazed Planning and Coordination Executive Director Kim Seong-rak's head and shattered against the wall.
“Does that make any sense? His ligaments are torn, bones broken! And you're saying we can't pin him down because of 'excessive force'?”
Geonwoo Group Chairman Park Jam's aged eyes twisted in fury.
“Actually... I met that bastard Kang Cheol-gu yesterday. Since he's a junior from the police academy, I figured I'd handle it myself—sweet-talk him a bit, get him to back off, and strip him of his uniform... But I'm ashamed to say it, Chairman, you need to see this.”
A thick file passed from Kim Seong-rak's hands.
“What the—?! H-how... How the hell does that punk know about this?!”
Park Jam roughly flipped through the file, his eyes wavering. His fingers shook so badly he could barely turn the pages.
“...I'm sorry. I didn't dig that deep either. But after reviewing it, everything checks out as fact. Creative accounting and stock manipulation in three-quarters of our subsidiaries, not to mention the overvaluation of our assets and underreporting of liabilities—he knows it all.”
Kim Seong-rak bowed his head, his voice crawling with apology.
“I know better than anyone how furious you are, Chairman. But that message he sent? We can't ignore it.”
“Hmph...!”
“You have to see the big picture, Chairman. Our corporate image has already tanked because of Director Park Hyeok-cheol. The stock's shaking badly. If the accounting scandal breaks now, Geonwoo is done for!”
Chief of Staff Pyo Chi-su chimed in from the side. Truth be told, the spoiled brat Park Hyeok-cheol was beneath his notice. For him, survival of Geonwoo Group—his sturdy shield and cash cow—came first.
“That's not all. I don't know what tricks that punk pulled, but starting from the internet, war crime controversies about Geonwoo Group are exploding. They're saying 'Joseon Machinery Works,' which supplied submersible transport ships to the Japanese army during the Pacific War, is our predecessor company. Boycotts are kicking off.”
“What? Damn it! Of all times...!”
“Revenge can wait. The opportunity will come. For now, we focus on getting Director Park Hyeok-cheol out safely! As long as he's free, Geonwoo will rise again.”
“......Nngh!”
At Kim Seong-rak's earnest plea, Chairman Park let out a low groan. His tiger-like yellow eyes shook feebly.
* * *
It had been a week since Detective Kim Gwang-il had his stitches removed after surgery. Being young and healthy, he was recovering fast.
Weeeng.
After visiting Gwang-il at the hospital and stepping out, his phone buzzed.
“Hello, Detective. This is Park Jin-tae. We met at Pungsan, right? I think there's something you need to know. You free today by any chance?”
Pungsan Electronics Market, revisited after half a month, was still buzzing with touts hawking deals and shoppers browsing wares.
Ten minutes after parking in the public lot, Park Jin-tae appeared. Spotting me, he glanced around warily before hopping into the car.
Even alone in the vehicle, he fidgeted like someone might overhear, scanning the surroundings.
“Alright, spit it out. What's so important?”
“Well... truth is, I ran into Hyung Si-woong yesterday.”
“Si-woong? Park Si-woong?!”
The guy who'd vanished without a trace. Had he been laying low until Park Hyeok-cheol's arrest eased the pressure? Now he was surfacing?
“And?”
“He showed up out of nowhere yesterday. Wanted to grab drinks. He was in such a good mood, all hyped up. Said someone else took the full rap for his crimes.”
The Violent Crimes Unit had wrapped up the serial rape case pinning it all on Park Hyeok-cheol. Fair enough—the MOs matched.
“So why tell me this?”
“You helped me out last time, Detective. All the guys I worked with got locked up. If you hadn't tipped me off about the crackdown, I'd be in the slammer too. I'm a hustler, sure, but I got loyalty and manners.”
He hesitated, scratching his head before continuing.
“And I've known Si-woong Hyung since we were kids, but I never liked how he raped women. Up till now, I kept my mouth shut 'cause I had my own dirt. But I don't wanna wade in that shit anymore.”
His head-scratching didn't annoy me.
“Haha, got it. Anything else?”
In the empty car, he suddenly lowered his voice, glancing around cautiously.
“This is why I wanted to meet. He was wasted yesterday and blabbing. Said the cops are all backing off now, and he's going ahead with the plan he'd been plotting. 'I ain't letting that bitch off easy... How much I liked her since high school, and she fucks me over?' He kept chugging booze... Felt like he was about to blow something up!”
A girl he'd liked since high school... That matched a victim from the old case files. Yoo Su-ju. Same school as Park Si-woong, his first love by her statement. Rejected confessions led to a crime of passion, per the records.
So the original rapist was stirring again? My lip curled slowly upward.
“Oh, right, Detective. Made this for fun—take it!”
As I started the car, Park Jin-tae handed me something. A black metal box the size of my palm.
“Think of it as a portable repeater. Use it when your internet or phone drops signal. It's nothing special, just a token from me.”
Nothing special, my ass—if Park Jin-tae built it, the performance would be top-notch.
“You rascal. Thanks. Catch you later.”
His face looked a lot lighter.
* * *
The sun hadn't even set on this early evening, but the alley in front of Namjeong-dong Elementary School felt eerie. Maybe because redevelopment loomed—hardly anyone passed by.
Under an old streetlamp sat a Jeep with heavy tint.
“Hyungnim, you sure the original rapist will show here?”
“Gyu-cheol, don't rush it. Info straight from a reliable antenna.”
“Sometimes I just don't get you, Hyungnim. Where do you even get sources like that?”
Serial rape follows patterns like serial murder psychologically. Unless crippled or jailed, once they start, they can't stop.
Especially Park Si-woong with his high school crush. A man's first love means more than just a girl. Maybe all his rapes were practice runs for Yoo Su-ju...
“He'll come. Stay quiet and wait.”
“...Ah! Hyungnim, protectee just showed.”
A woman in her late twenties, face weary with exhaustion, entered the basement of a rundown multi-family villa. Shabby clothes, but porcelain skin veined with blue and a slim figure—stirring a man's protective instincts... and his urge to conquer.
“Hyungnim, if this was the plan, shouldn't we have warned her from the start and provided close protection?”
“What do we say? 'Some psycho's planning to rape you'? And that rapist punk's sharp. One whiff of odd behavior from the protectee, he'll sniff it out.”
“Jeez! You talk like you know him so w—! Hyungnim, there!”
An hour after Yoo Su-ju's basement light went out, a beat-up sedan pulled up to the room's lone window. A shadowed figure in a deep-brimmed hat stepped from the driver's seat.
Cushioned sneakers made no sound. Backpack slung on, he circled quietly to the window.
Out of sight now.
“Hyungnim, shouldn't we tail him now?”
Gyu-cheol whispered tensely.
“No, not yet. Need to catch him in the act. Tail now, it's just attempted theft.”
I cracked the tinted window five centimeters. Faint external sounds filtered in.
A metallic snip of aluminum cutting, then glass shattering softly.
20 seconds. 40. 60!
“Gyu-cheol, now! In through the window. I'll block the escape.”
“Got it!”
Gyu-cheol dove through the broken window the perp had used. Too small for Gwang-il's bulk, but fine for him.
I sealed the entrance.
Through the shattered pane: the woman's scream, Gyu-cheol's low warning, things breaking in succession.
Hand in my back pocket, I leaned crookedly against the door.
Park Si-woong wasn't a fighter like Park Hyeok-cheol. No Gwang-il-level brawn, but Gyu-cheol was still a violent crimes detective. No way he'd fail to nab a punk like th—!
Kwang!
The rickety steel door flew open as if torn off. A shadow burst out.
He didn't spot me by the door. Still hand-in-pocket, I stuck out my leg.
Thud!
Like a sandbag hitting pavement, his body spun 180 degrees, slamming back-first. I pressed my foot gently on his choking throat.
Gurk!
Air cut off, he clawed at my shoe with both hands, curling shrimp-like.
Huff huff. Gyu-cheol rushed up, one hand over his eye, breathing hard.
“Huff huff! Sorry. He charged me outta nowhere and I...”
“Forget it. Cuff him quick.”
“Huh?”
“What're you staring at? I catch him? Nah, you caught him. Miranda rights, then cuff him yourself.”
“H-Hyungnim!”
Gyu-cheol's voice cracked. His hand shook faintly drawing cuffs from his belt.
“Let go! Fuck, who the hell are you? Cops?”
Easing my foot, Park Si-woong spat curses from under it.
His profanity triggered it—faces of tear-streaked victims flashed in my mind. My breath grew ragged unbidden.
“But Gyu-cheol, even if it was an unavoidable slip in the arrest, you can't handle a suspect this roughly.”
“...Huh?!”
Before he could finish, I kicked Park Si-woong's head. A dull thud, and his mouth went slack.
“Serial rapist or not, this excessive force'll get you in trouble.”
Thwack!
Park Si-woong clutched his gut, breathless.
“In the act, sure, desperate resistance—I get it, no choice. But you'll kill him like this.”
Thwack!
His lips flapped like a fish long out of water.
“Hyungnim! Stop! When did I hit him? That's all you!”
Gyu-cheol blocked between us, yelling. Cuffing him, complaints poured from his mouth. The cracked voice, the misty eyes—gone.
* * *
Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency Violent Crimes Unit, Team 3 Squad 2.
A man with gold-rimmed glasses and squinted eyes stared endlessly at a case file.
Ji Hyeong-seok, the lieutenant who'd visited Gangcheon Station before on the Injingu rapist case.
“Lt. Ji, what's the point of brooding over a closed case? Just hurts your gut. Have some vending machine coffee.”
The rookie Yoon handed him a cup.