The Scent of Rotten Perfume
Ziiiiing!
Kang Hyeong-seok, mid-commute, frowned at the name that popped up over his navigation screen.
All the same, he picked up without protest.
"What is it?"
(Where are you?)
"Driving."
Shin Yo-sep shot back a reply with the air of this little punk, seriously?
(Heading in to the office?)
"Yeah."
(Stop by sometime today.)
Hyeong-seok's brow knitted deeper on the spot. He knew full well by now that springing things on people without warning was Shin Yo-sep's way of talking — but just yesterday, Kwak Young-ho had gone so far as to hold a meeting, his tone preoccupied with the coming quarter.
With no concrete reason in sight, he hadn't the mental slack to spare for meeting Shin Yo-sep.
"Can't. I'm busy these days."
(I'll introduce you to a client.)
"So where do we meet?"
Apparently dumbfounded, Shin Yo-sep went silent for a moment, then hung up with a groan.
(Since when did you get this shameless?)
"Must be rubbing off. From you."
(Haaa—!)
"Lead with the actual reason. What's going on?"
(I think it might be dongti. I'd like you to come take a look yourself.)
The light just then turned red. He braked to a stop at the line and leaned back into the seat.
"Dongti? You're sure?"
(I'm no shaman, so I can't vouch for that much. All I know is some laborer at the site has been acting strange. Skipped out without leave again today, I hear.)
"Hmm."
(Why?)
"Because that's odd. A worker's troubles shouldn't be something you'd bother yourself with."
Shin Yo-sep was an executive director at Shinjin Construction. The rank gap between him and site-level staff was far too wide for that — wide enough, in fact, that it made you wonder how news like this had even reached his ears.
(It's a fairly big project. Tunnel work.)
"Ah. Say no more."
Tunnel projects, more often than not, meant cooperating with the government or securing permits — which was to say, the client was the government. And with Shinjin Construction's name recognition stacked on top, trouble of every shape and size could come swarming in, as if it had been lying in wait.
"Sounds like you have it rough too."
(From what I hear, it started after they cut down a tree — but I can't swear to even that.)
"Hoooo."
(That section chief you had with you before — Shin Jeong-ah? I'd like her to come along too.)
"Oh, right. So where's this client of yours?"
(We'll talk once everyone's there. Cleaner that way, no?)
"Fine."
Hyeong-seok hung up, saw the light had gone green, and lifted his foot from the brake.
Vrrmmm.
No telling how this one will go.
What if it wasn't dongti at all? What if something dreadful was tangled up in it, like with the imugi?
No. For now, focus on what I can actually do.
Just handle it well. That alone would take one worry off Kwak Young-ho's shoulders.
Hyeong-seok pressed his lips together firmly and drove on toward the office.
"And that is how we've come to meet you."
Shin Yo-sep bowed his head politely to Shin Jeong-ah as she came into the café alongside Kang Hyeong-seok.
The café sat roughly halfway between Daejeong Mulsan and Shinjin Construction — suitably out of the way, with pleasant scenery all around, and coffee prices steep enough to draw a gasp. In exchange, the interior décor, the subtle aroma of coffee hanging in the air, and the low-drifting jazz were all first-rate.
"I've heard the rundown. It's been a while."
The two of them were still strangers to each other. What they knew of one another amounted to the bare outline: Shin Jeong-ah was someone who could help Kang Hyeong-seok, and Shin Yo-sep was a former exorcist priest. That was about the extent of it.
"I'll go order the coffee."
"Hm? Should I come along?"
Jeong-ah half-rose from her seat to follow him, and Shin Yo-sep got to his feet, card already in hand.
"Come with."
"I can go by myself."
"I'm paying for the coffee."
Hands already thrust into his pockets, Yo-sep sauntered off toward the counter.
"Please wait here. We'll be right back."
"Oh — sure."
While Jeong-ah kept an eye on their things — the phones, the bag holding his ritual implements — the two men ordered iced americanos without so much as a word between them and carried them back.
The real conversation began only after each of the three had taken a first sip.
"Shinjin Construction will be putting together next year's diaries before long."
The topic Shin Yo-sep opened with was the client.
"We've always used the same shop for them, but that contract has run out, and we thought we'd try working with someone new while we were at it."
Yo-sep took a sip of his coffee, and Jeong-ah listened with a spark kindled in her eyes.
"And you'd introduce us to them?"
"Yes. It's a shop with room to grow, and we may well scale up our dealings with them over time."
A company that made diaries would be one that handled everything from printing to binding.
"Pamphlets?"
Shin Yo-sep nodded at the question Hyeong-seok tossed out.
"Right. We have a hotel in the works at the moment, and a place like that wants pamphlets."
True enough. Whether the hotel went to new-employee training or to promoting the company brand, pamphlets were indispensable.
"Either way, long-term it's not a bad setup. It means a stable client, you see."
Meeting Shin Yo-sep's gaze, Jeong-ah nodded deeply, a smile on her face.
"Thank you."
"But before all that..."
Shin Yo-sep let his gaze slide over to Kang Hyeong-seok.
"I need you to help them with this."
Not only Yo-sep — Jeong-ah was looking at him now too.
Please, just say yes. Their eyes more or less said that. If Kwak Young-ho had been sitting here, he'd probably have worn very nearly the same look as Jeong-ah.
"I'd already made up my mind to."
Yo-sep, mid-sip of his coffee, and Jeong-ah, rubbing between her brows, both looked visibly relieved. He couldn't have said why, but he had the feeling Kwak Young-ho, absent though he was, would be making much the same face as Jeong-ah right about now.
"Then I'll leave this matter to the two of you."
"You're not coming with us?"
At the sight of Jeong-ah's startled eyes, Shin Yo-sep put on an apologetic smile.
"It's company business, so me showing my face is a bit..."
"Can't be helped."
"Sorry."
It was after Hyeong-seok raised his coffee cup with a face that said all was fine.
Swish.
Shin Yo-sep slid the card he'd used to pay for the coffee across the table to Hyeong-seok.
"What's this?"
"Expense money."
Jeong-ah's eyes went wider than they had all morning, and Yo-sep carried on, calm as ever.
"Use it for gas, meals, whatever comes up."
Hyeong-seok burst out laughing as he looked at him.
"Back in college I had a friend exactly like you."
"Yeah?"
Yo-sep asked as if that genuinely surprised him, and Hyeong-seok reached for the card.
"The guy never touched a group project in his life, but he always sprang for the late-night food."
Yo-sep smiled in much the same way and opened his mouth.
"And how did the project turn out?"
"We never once had to pay for our own late-night snacks."
Hyeong-seok tucked the card away as he opened his wallet. It truly was a strange feeling — slipping a luxurious black card, one whose annual fee alone surely ran to several hundred dollars at the least, into his worn wallet.
"I'm counting on you. I'll be backing you up from behind the scenes."
"Thanks."
Hyeong-seok gave the wallet holding the card a little shake and sipped at his coffee.
(Ahhh! This is just too good!)
Kwak Young-ho's voice was so loud it carried clean across to Hyeong-seok.
"Section Chief Kang is right next to me. Shall I pass you over?"
(Hold on — you're driving, aren't you? Then never mind. Just give me a ring once it's all done.)
"Yes, sir."
(When I heard the two of you were heading out first thing in the morning, I wondered... ah, this is just too good.)
He could practically see the man's beaming face; driving, Hyeong-seok ended up huffing out a laugh.
"Section Chief Kang is laughing too, you know."
(What? Am I on speaker?)
"No, sir. Your voice is just that loud."
(Which only means I'm that happy! That much.)
Jeong-ah snorted a laugh, gave the man in the driver's seat one more glance, and let her gaze drift out the passenger window.
"Then we'll stay focused on our end for now."
(Got it. Fighting, you two!)
"Yeees, sir."
Jeong-ah hung up and rested the back of her head against the headrest.
"God, the pressure is crushing."
"Because you're worried it won't go well?"
"There's always that one chance in ten thousand. And for all we know, something else could blow up on top of it."
Even as she said it, there was no mistaking the faith in Jeong-ah's eyes as she looked at Hyeong-seok.
"So all we have to do is go see this man — Lee Jang-woo, was it?"
"That's right."
"Well, reaching him certainly went smoothly."
"Director Shin will have set it up through someone he trusts."
A shaman is coming. He'll resolve what you fear might be dongti. That, presumably, was how the message had been passed along.
"You're all right with that?"
Hyeong-seok nodded, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
"Quite a few people in the construction business believe in shamanism, actually."
"...Really? I had no idea."
"My uncle let it slip once — that there were men like that in the trade."
Looked at one way, it had been that uncle who first connected Hyeong-seok to Shin Yo-sep. The incident that started it all was the Damgeumju case. Back then, too, Hyeong-seok had resolved the matter together with Jeong-ah.
"Your uncle — so that was back in the Damgeumju days? Feels like that was ages ago already."
"Doesn't it just."
Following the navigation, Hyeong-seok eased off the speed. They were close to the destination now — and since that destination was a motel, the district was hardly thriving. Bars shuttered in broad daylight. A Chinese restaurant, a soup-and-rice joint, flyers for a night spot called Zucchini Night skittering across the pavement — the whole place had the feel of a forgotten motel village.
Ka-chunk!
Hyeong-seok parked in a decent spot, set the handbrake, grabbed his bag, and stepped out. Jeong-ah, climbing out right behind him, stood at his side without a word — because the corners of Hyeong-seok's eyes had narrowed to slits as he looked up at the motel.
"Can you see something?"
"I can smell it."
There are many kinds of ghost stench. Ordinarily it is tied to the manner of death — and the one Hyeong-seok caught on the air now smelled like rotten perfume.
Then maybe it isn't dongti after all.
He gave it a moment's thought, then shook his head. If the tree they'd torn out had been one a young woman hanged herself from, everything fell neatly into place.
"Let's head up."
Hyeong-seok and Jeong-ah made for Lee Jang-woo's room. The motel's stairwell was unusually narrow, and perhaps because of it, the air seemed to carry the smell of cheap cosmetics and stale liquor.
Knock, knock.
He knocked. No answer. Hyeong-seok breathed in through the crack of the door and knocked again.
"Mr. Lee Jang-woo?"
Still nothing.
Did he step out?
The moment Hyeong-seok's hand closed around the door handle without his thinking—
Click.
The handle he'd taken for granted would be locked turned without a hint of resistance.
"Fuck."
A bad premonition shot straight up his spine on pure instinct, and Hyeong-seok flung the door wide.
BANG!
The door burst open with a crash — and his eyes met Lee Jang-woo's. A belt rigged from the ceiling was looped around the man's neck, and he was caught in the very act of hanging himself.