BITM Ch24

Jin placed what he held in his hand onto the desk.

Why on earth…?

Jin frowned as if a headache was coming on. It was a pill bottle that had fallen from Han Naeyung’s pocket to the sofa.

Pentobarbital Sodium. He was well aware of it as an animal euthanasia drug from the Ogeori case. After all, wasn’t Han Naeyung a veterinarian? He tried to think it was no big deal but couldn’t easily get over it. The face soaked with tears as if snow were melting remained vividly in his mind.

Jin stared at the pill bottle, lost in thought. His head was a mess with Han Naeyung’s inexplicable actions and the tangled relationship between victim and perpetrator. There had been only one instance of this drug being used at Han Naeyung’s animal hospital. But ever since the mention of CCTV, Han Naeyung had cut off contact, and his face looked as if he was hiding a secret.

Does this make sense?

Jin let out a dry laugh as he tried to link Han Naeyung to the Ogeori murder case. Han Naeyung’s strange behavior was probably related to his abusive past. He thought he might be overthinking due to accumulated fatigue. His heart tightened, making him feel suffocated again.

“Um… Prosecutor.”

Lee Innyeong, who had been acting as if she had something to say, cautiously spoke up. At that moment, Jin’s phone rang. It was none other than Seon Wook-jae’s emergency line. He told her they’d talk later and put on his earphones.

“What is it?”

Seon Wook-jae was panting on the other end of the line.

– Huff, huff, prosecutor.

Hearing the heavy breathing, Jin temporarily took off the earphones before putting them back on.

“Speak.”

– It’s about the gold tooth. We’ve identified the person. There was a dental record. It’s Lee Kyungchul. Lee Kyungchul!

He spoke as if Jin would surely recognize the name. Jin felt puzzled. Just as he was about to ask who that was, his eyes fell on the desk.

Song Iljae, Lee Kyungchul. He repeated their names and thought about their commonalities.

He definitely remembered seeing something. As he pushed aside the stacked documents and searched for the trial records, Seon Wook-jae’s words poured into his ears.

– It’s about the child and women’s prostitution case we talked about earlier. Both were defendants in that case. I was skeptical because Lee Kyungchul’s face was so badly decomposed, but upon checking, he turned out to be the same guy I knew.

Jin went through thousands of documents every day. Seon Wook-jae’s summary cleared his complicated mind in an instant. However, even after pushing all the files aside, he couldn’t find the record he was looking for.

“Chief, where did you put the trial documents for the child prostitution case?”

– What? The documents?

“I have them, prosecutor.”

Both Seon Wook-jae and Lee Innyeong answered simultaneously. Jin reached out to Lee Innyeong.

“I found it. Chief, come in immediately.”

– Got it. I’m on my way back now.

Jin took out his earphones and looked at Lee Innyeong, who was fidgeting with the documents.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, you see…”

Jin looked at her curiously as she hesitated.

“It might just be my imagination. So, please take it with a grain of salt.”

“Alright, go ahead.”

Jin looked at her while holding the documents.

“Actually… Because the names matched, I looked up all the files. The victim of this child prostitution case, the one who fell to his death… His name was… Jaemin.”

“And?”

Jin glanced at the pill bottle on the desk as if to ask what the problem was.

“You asked me before to look into the whereabouts of Jung Woomin and Jung Jaemin.”

“I did.”

Jin paused as he answered indifferently.

“The victim in this case, his name was… Jung Jaemin.”

Jung Jaemin…? Realizing this, Jin felt his hair stand on end. He quickly came around the desk and snatched the documents from her hand.

“At first, I didn’t think much of it, but as you’ll see, the witness’s date of birth and family relationship aren’t marked as confidential. The witness in the trial is the older brother of the deceased victim, Jung Jaemin. I was puzzled because Jung Jaemin and the witness had the same date of birth.”

She paused before continuing.

“They seem to be twins.”

Lee Innyeong’s words flooded in like a tidal wave, leaving Jin dizzy. The content was hard to accept, and his hands tightened around the documents, crumpling them.

“Reschedule all today’s appointments for tomorrow.”

“Prosecutor?”

Ignoring Lee Innyeong’s call, Jin ran straight to the annex. People passing by greeted him, but he had no time to respond.

“They seem to be twins.”

That phrase kept repeating in his head.

Jin reached the third floor of the annex and finally caught his breath. He rushed to the restricted access case record room. He almost threw his prosecutor’s badge at the employee who wanted to verify his identity.

Jin hastily pulled out numerous files sorted by date and name. His urgent movements caused the documents to spill everywhere. His fingers stopped at case number ’19xxrk64.’

As soon as he opened the records, photos of the crime scene appeared before his eyes. He swallowed hard at the sight of the photo labeled “Falling Death of Jung Jaemin.” The small body was twisted in a pool of blood. Jin closed his eyes tightly, then opened them again.

It had to be Lee Innyeong’s mistake. It must be. Yet, he couldn’t turn the page labeled “Autopsy Report” easily.

“Wait here. Don’t go anywhere and stay right here. I’ll go buy some medicine.”

“Okay, I’ll stay here and not go anywhere.”

The last conversation he had with Jaemin was still vivid. Woomin’s gentle breaths, colored with fever, were also clear.

“Jaemin…”

Regret flowed from Jin’s lips. He leaned against the wall after confirming the child’s face. Although he had kept the two children in a sandcastle, the incoming tidal wave quickly destroyed the firmly dried castle, mocking and crushing the fortress Jin had painstakingly built.

Jaemin, who was sleeping with his eyes closed, was captured perfectly in the photo. Jin let out a shallow breath.

“Jaemin, you were here. I’ve been looking for you for 20 years.”

With bloodshot eyes, Jin traced Jaemin’s face. In the notorious child prostitution case, the kids he had been searching for were there. Jin couldn’t believe it. No, it was unbelievable.

As he read through the case summary, a bitter laugh escaped his lips. It was horrifying. The detective in charge of the case, the bastards who used Jaemin and Woomin to make money, and even the judge who sentenced them to only 12 years—everyone was horrifying.

Main offenders: Lee Kyungchul, Jang Sungjun.  

Charges of mediation: Song Iljae, Lee Cheolwoo.

Jin noted down the defendants’ information on his phone. His hand trembled, which was unusual for him. To cool his boiling head, he pressed it against the wall.

Lee Kyungchul, Song Iljae. Those bastards… As he recalled the filthy streets of the red-light district, an uncontrollable rage surged within him. If only the police had shown a little more interest and looked for them, if the director hadn’t been so eager to cover up his mistakes, if he had been the prosecutor he is now…

He felt like his body was burning with intense regret. The photo of Jaemin’s fall at the scene was blurred. He could immediately tell who had testified. It was Woomin, whom he had longed to see so much.

The child with a cotton candy-like voice who would sometimes laugh softly. The kid who would always yield everything to his younger sibling without a single complaint. Jin covered his face with his hands.

“I was wrong. I was foolish. I shouldn’t have taken you away that day. Even if it meant getting my calves beaten by the director, I should have told the truth that you were planning to escape from the orphanage.”

Still, he had believed that they were living well somewhere. How relieved he had been after confirming that there were no unidentified child deaths that year. He believed they would never be apart, holding each other tightly. Maybe he just wanted to think that way for his own peace of mind.

Jin was paralyzed with self-loathing.

***

“Chief!”

As soon as Jin opened the door, he called for Sun Wookjae. He didn’t even check if he had returned or not. Sun Wookjae, who was drafting a report related to Lee Kyungchul, widened his eyes in surprise.

“Prosecutor, what’s wrong?”

Jin was breathing heavily.

“Your first case was a child prostitution case, right?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Do you know what happened to the child who testified?”

Sun Wookjae had known Prosecutor Jin for quite some time, but he had never seen him this agitated.

“That… child? I believe he was sent to a child protection center after the trial. That’s usually the case.”

“Are you saying you don’t know exactly where he was sent?”

Sun Wookjae broke out in a cold sweat, not understanding the sudden intensity in Jin’s voice.

“The detective in charge at the time would probably know.”

“We need to find out about all the people involved in that case.”

“What? Why all of a sudden?”

“We need to find him. We need to find Jung Woomin.”

“How… It must be true.” Lee Inyoung muttered to herself, tears in her voice. As Jin left, Sun Wookjae grabbed his coat and followed him. He quickly caught up to Jin, who was walking briskly.

“Prosecutor, please tell me what’s going on. Is it related to the current murder case?”

“It probably isn’t. It shouldn’t be.”

Jin put on the coat Sun Wookjae handed him and headed straight for the parking lot. Ignoring Sun Wookjae’s offer to drive, Jin took the wheel. Sun Wookjae had no choice but to sit in the passenger seat with a troubled expression.

Jin handed over all the case documents to Sun Wookjae.

“Find out where the detective in charge of that case is currently working.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

After three phone calls, Sun Wookjae finally found out where the detective was currently stationed. He was now the head of the violent crimes unit in the Chuncheon area. Sun Wookjae dialed the violent crimes unit number on Jin’s phone.

“Please connect me to Team 3’s Chief Cho.”

As soon as someone picked up, Jin stated his business.

– The chief? He’s currently working. Who is this?

Jin immediately put in his earphones and spoke.

“Tell him it’s Prosecutor Jin from the 11th Criminal Division of the Southern District Prosecutors’ Office.”

The officer, who had answered indifferently, quickly changed his tone and agreed to connect him. About ten seconds of hold music played, but it felt like ten years to Jin, who pressed down on the accelerator.

– I’ve taken over the call.

“Chief Cho, I need to meet with you immediately.”

– Pardon? Why does a prosecutor need to meet with me?

“I understand you handled a child prostitution case 20 years ago.”

– …

Jin didn’t wait through the silence on the other end.

“I need to ask you about the case, so I’m coming to your station right now.”

– Well, uh, Prosecutor…

Jin pulled out his earphones without waiting for a response. If he drove diligently for two hours, he would reach his destination. Sun Wookjae tightened his seatbelt around himself. He couldn’t say a word to Jin, who was ignoring speed limits.

It was because he had glimpsed the despair and anxiety that had settled over Jin. Sun Wookjae began to read through the documents Jin handed him, fighting off nausea.

About 20 years ago, Sun Wookjae recalled the memories he had forgotten as he looked at the recorded court transcript from that time. It was a case that the detective had handled unilaterally. Everyone in the courtroom knew. They knew that the desire for personal achievement outweighed the pursuit of justice. If that person had requested support from the beginning, Jaemin Jung, who had fallen to his death, might have survived.

The car was filled with silence until they reached Chuncheon Police Station. The sound of papers being turned had long disappeared. Even though they arrived after office hours, the lights in the police station were bright. Jin didn’t even put on the windbreaker coat Sun Wookjae handed him and headed straight into the building.

As soon as he opened the door to Team 3 of the Violent Crimes Division, eyes turned toward Jin and Sun Wookjae. They were curious why a prosecutor from another jurisdiction was visiting. Jin recognized the man approaching with a smile as Chief Cho.

“You must have had a hard time getting here, Prosecutor. How about a cup of coffee?”

“No, let’s talk outside.”

Sun Wookjae nodded at Chief Cho, signaling him to follow. Jin looked up at the stairs. He saw the staff lounge following the direction of the arrow. Before heading there, he stood in the hallway where the vending machine was located. Chief Cho got coffee from the vending machine and offered it to Jin and Sun Wookjae. However, Jin did not accept the coffee.

“By the way… why are you looking for me?”

Chief Cho looked awkward and hesitant.

“I want to know the whereabouts of Jung Woomin.”

Jin stated his business without any preamble.

“Jung Woomin?”

“The witness in the child prostitution case you handled.”

Approaching his fifties, Chief Cho looked much younger than his age. Seeing his oily cheeks, Jin felt something surge within him.

“Well… you see, I thought about it on the way here, but it was such a long time ago.”

“You can’t possibly forget. You got a promotion because of that case.”

Chief Cho laughed awkwardly.

“Are you here for an audit? It’s been 20 years. No one could remember that long ago.”

Jin extended his hand towards Sun Wookjae. Then, he took the court transcript Sun Wookjae handed him and shoved it in Chief Cho’s face.

“Would you remember if you read this? You visited the building where the prostitution took place four times, and Jaemin Jung jumped from a room there. It’s something you should remember even after 30 years, not just 20.”

Chief Cho, now pale, shook his hands.

“Please don’t say that. I’ve… actually been tormented by it. I’ve been having nightmares for decades, waking up repeatedly.”

Jin coldly interrupted Chief Cho’s lament.

“Chief Cho. Do you want to resign right now?”

“Pardon? Prosecutor, that’s too much—”

“Do you think I came here to listen to your personal grievances? You must know where Jung Woomin went after the trial.”

Jin’s voice was filled with anger. Sun Wookjae, unfamiliar with this side of Jin, didn’t know what to do and just stood there.

“Well, well. Right after the trial, he was sent to a child protection center. Now I remember. Back then, there were no dedicated child care staff like now, so it was all our responsibility. That’s why I remember.”

“Stop spouting nonsense.”

“What… what?”

“I mean, find out the location of the protection center and the person in charge at that time right now.”

“Prosecutor, how can I do that now!”

Jin grabbed Chief Cho by the collar.

“Do you think I don’t know your dirty motives? If you had wanted, you could have cooperated with the investigation team from the start. Your unilateral actions led to the child’s death, and you got a superficial badge of honor. Is there anything more to say?”

Jin let go of Chief Cho, pushing him away. Jin wiped his face like someone trying to suppress his anger. Watching Jin descend the stairs, Sun Wookjae sighed heavily. Then he patted Chief Cho on the shoulder and whispered.

“Chief Cho. Do you remember me? Our prosecutor isn’t usually like this, but it seems there’s a deep story behind this. Please resolve this quickly as requested.”

“Still, this is too much. He’s being unreasonable. Does he think being a prosecutor makes him above everyone?”

Chief Cho grumbled to Sun Wookjae, who had taken his side. Sun Wookjae looked at Chief Cho disdainfully.

“By the way, Chief. I don’t remember you fondly either. I agree with our prosecutor’s thoughts.”

Chief Cho couldn’t say anything to Sun Wookjae’s sarcasm. After all, Sun Wookjae held a higher rank. Leaving the flustered Chief Cho behind, Sun Wookjae quickly ran down to catch up with Jin. He was out of breath despite having quit smoking. He spotted Jin standing near the car.

“Prosecutor.”

Jin turned around silently. His face, shrouded in darkness, revealed his complex emotions. For once, Sun Wookjae didn’t ask why.

“I’ll drive on the way back.”

It was all he said, trying to offer some comfort.

***

“Prosecutor, why did you act that way?”

Only after they exited the highway and entered the city did Sun Wookjae speak. Jin opened the window, letting out the smoke from his cigarette. There were no clues left to find Jung Woomin since the documents had been updated under the witness protection program. That’s why he had sought out the detective in desperation.

“Chief.”

“Yes.”

“If you knew a child… was forced to go through something like that by someone, how would you feel?”

“…”

Sun Wookjae filled in a missing piece of the puzzle through Jin’s words. It seemed like Jin knew the victims of the first case he had handled. Well, given the years, they would be around the same age. If those kids had grown up properly, they would have turned out like Jin…

“If it’s just a matter of imagination, it doesn’t provoke many thoughts… But if it’s about the children around me, even though such a thing would never happen…”

Even though it was an event that hadn’t occurred, it was still uneasy to speak about it. Nonetheless, Sun Wookjae found his voice.

“I would want to kill that person. I would make them suffer so much that being alive would be painful. I might even use all my knowledge to commit the perfect crime.”

Sun Wookjae scratched the back of his head. Jin looked out the window of the car speeding through the late-night streets. Despite the glowing streetlights and the twinkling neon signs, he felt no emotion. His anger and guilt, welling up to his throat, blinded him to everything.

A perfect crime…

Jin closed his eyes for a moment and murmured.

***

“Why are you so pretty?”

“Gyo Jin Hyung is strange. We look exactly the same, but he always says I’m the pretty one.”

“You do look alike, but Woomin is prettier.”

“No! Brother is mine!”

Jaemin recited lines he had heard in a drama. He didn’t even understand what they meant but said them anyway. Jaemin grabbed Woomin’s arm, insisting he shouldn’t play with Gyo Jin. With that force, Woomin tumbled forward.

Jaemin, in a panic, called out “Hyung, Hyung.” Gyo Jin, watching the adorable scene, smiled and picked up the fallen Woomin. A nosebleed trickled down from his dazed face.

“Aah! Brother, you’re bleeding, you’re bleeding. It’s not my fault! It’s because of Brother Gyo Jin! I hate him! If you get hurt and hate me, it’s his fault!”

Jaemin cried as he ran into the building. Woomin wiped his nose with his sleeve and spoke.

“I’m fine.”

The nosebleed stopped after one wipe, indicating it wasn’t a severe injury. Gyo Jin worriedly examined Woomin’s small nose. Meanwhile, Woomin looked beyond Gyo Jin’s shoulder at the azalea flowerbed of the orphanage. Jin’s gaze naturally followed.

“You look at those flowers a lot. Do you like them?”

“Yeah. They’re pretty, and they smell nice.”

Woomin approached the flowers. Gyo Jin followed and sniffed them too, then tilted his head.

“They don’t smell much to me.”

“That’s why I like them. They have a pretty smell.”

“You must have a sensitive nose, Woomin.”

“Maybe. You and Jaemin smell like candy.”

“Really?”

Gyo Jin sniffed his own arm. Woomin came closer, inhaling near Gyo Jin’s face. As Gyo Jin watched Woomin’s finely curled eyelashes, he suddenly felt hot. He thought it was because Woomin was too cute and pretty. Gyo Jin couldn’t resist and kissed Woomin on the cheek. Woomin blinked his round eyes.

“Sorry, you’re just too pretty.”

“You’re prettier, Hyung.”

Gyo Jin, taller than his peers, had a delicate and handsome appearance. Woomin didn’t seem to dislike it, so Gyo Jin moved to kiss the other cheek when a rough voice interrupted from behind.

“Stop! Stop! Don’t kiss my Hyung!”

Jaemin rushed in, hugging Woomin tightly, glaring at Gyo Jin. Gyo Jin playfully flicked Jaemin’s nose. Though they looked identical, it was fascinating how he never got them confused.

“At least it’s good that the people who wanted to take you two separately gave up.”

“Yeah, because Jaemin cried so much.”

See, crybaby. Woomin laughed softly.

“But someone else might come. They said we might not get through this winter together.”

“The headmaster is mean. He keeps trying to separate us. Boo-hoo.”

“Don’t cry, we’re not apart yet.”

Gyo Jin wiped Jaemin’s tear-streaked face. Meanwhile, Woomin’s nose started bleeding again. Gyo Jin gently touched the fragile mucous membrane. He wanted to kiss Woomin’s cheek again but restrained himself because of Jaemin. The jelly-like feel of Woomin’s cheek lingered on Gyo Jin’s lips for a long time.

***

Jin stretched his stiff back. Having fallen asleep sitting, his whole body felt heavy. Moreover, Nari was sitting on his thigh. He lifted Nari and placed her down. The relaxed dog’s skin felt soft, like a child’s cheek.

I dreamt a long-lost dream. Previously, no matter how much I missed them, they never appeared even in my dreams. But recently, the frequency had increased. And though I never confessed it until the end, Woomin was Jin’s first love. Perhaps it was after meeting Han Naeyung that I started dreaming again. Her quiet demeanor and occasional small smiles resembled Woomin.

Jin only looked in the mirror after taking a cold shower to shake off the fatigue. He had changed so much. During adolescence, his frame had grown, and his pretty face had transformed into that of a full-grown man. Woomin must have changed a lot too. They might not even recognize each other if they passed by on the street.

Jin wiped the mirror with his wet hand. As he shook his head and stepped out, Nari, who had woken up, was prancing around the living room like a manic patient. Jin took the tissue box from Nari, who was chewing on it, and looked for his phone.

Even after finding his phone, he hesitated for a long time before pressing the call button. He remembered Han Naeyung telling him not to come looking for her until he contacted her. But surely a call would be okay? Jin finally pressed the call button.

“Professor Han, please pick up.”

Jin muttered to himself while waiting for the call to connect.

“I really want to hear your voice right now.”

Click, just as Jin finished speaking.

“…Yes.”

Jin pressed the phone close to his ear and sat on the sofa. Even with just a word, Han Naeyung’s voice felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Were you asleep?”

“No.”

“It’s only 6 o’clock. Are you already up?”

“…Yes.”

“You didn’t sleep.”

“I slept a little.”

“Still, it’s nice to hear your voice.”

“Your voice, Prosecutor…”

“Hmm, it doesn’t sound good, right? I just woke up.”

Why is it so hard to see you when you’re this close? Even if I found Woomin, what face could I meet him with?

Jin pressed the phone to his face as if it were Han Naeyung herself. He could even feel the warmth from the heated device.

“Can I come to see you today?”

“I’ll call you.”

“I have a confession to make.”

“…”

“I took the medicine bottle that was on the sofa. It would be troublesome if it disappeared, right? Did you find it?”

“I knew… it was missing.”

“Was it just something you took out to organize your meds?”

“…Yes.”

Since he couldn’t see her face, he couldn’t tell if she was being sincere or lying. His fingertips sent off ominous signals, but he could only trust Han Naeyung.

“I have to go to work now. I’ll call you again.”

Han Naeyung softly said, “Take care.” As soon as Jin hung up, he pressed his forehead with the corner of the phone. After staying like that for a few minutes, he eventually connected the call to Sun Wookjae.

“Prosecutor, is something wrong?”

Since it was a call just before going to work, Sun Wookjae asked if it was urgent.

“I have a personal favor to ask.”

“Of course, anything you need.”

“Could you assign someone to follow someone for a while?”

“Since it’s personal, should I ask Detective Cho?”

Detective Cho was a private detective Sun Wookjae often hired, a former cop.

“Yes, I’ll send you the address via text.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“And I have somewhere to go, so I’ll be late to work today.”

“…Would you like me to accompany you?”

“No, I’ll go alone.”

Sun Wookjae seemed to have a guess about where Jin was heading. Jin’s destination was in the email sent by Sergeant Cho at dawn. Cheongram Children’s Center. It was a small shelter on the outskirts of the city.

As Jin dressed, he added the address to the text for Sun Wookjae. The person to be watched was ‘Han Naeyung.’

***

Han Seongwon sat on the terrace, drinking coffee. The garden lawn, forgetting yesterday’s cold, was sprouting green. The documents on the table fluttered in the wind. He pressed them down with his wrinkled hand.

His wife came over with a tray of freshly baked bread, fanning the aroma towards him.

“Dear, don’t you have something to confess to me?”

It seemed like she was implying that if he didn’t confess, he wouldn’t get any bread. Han Seongwon grabbed the newspaper and placed it on top of the documents.

“I confessed 31 years ago, didn’t I?”

“Who said anything about the proposal!”