I turned and walked towards the island, head held high. I tried to breathe calmly and not reveal anything on my face.
Hae-jin moved from the door to the wall dividing the kitchen and the stairs, and spoke without looking at me. ‘They say they’re from the police station.’
They say? Why was he talking like that? I leant on the island and crossed my arms. The clock began to chime. Once, twice… eight times.
Hae-jin looked back as the men stood up and approached. ‘So what’s this about?’
The middle-aged detective took out his badge and flashed it at us. I didn’t catch the details other than that his name was Choi I-han and he was a lieutenant. He addressed Hae-jin. ‘Is your mother Kim Ji-won?’
‘Yes,’ Hae-jin replied.
Why was he talking about Mother, not me? What was going on? And why had Hae-jin asked what this was about? That wasn’t something a person would say after inviting someone to their home. It was what you would say to someone who burst in without notice. So were these cops not here to arrest me?
‘What’s your name?’ Lieutenant Choi asked Hae-jin.
Hae-jin answered. This time Choi looked at me. Neither he nor his partner seemed to recognise me. Then again, I was bruised and bloodied. I opened my swollen mouth and slurred, ‘Han Yu-jin.’
‘Then you must be the one who was home when we came by about the theft report made by Kim Ji-won.’
Hae-jin stared at me, puzzled.
I said yes. So they hadn’t been summoned by Hae-jin. That made more sense. That wasn’t the sort of thing he would have done, no matter how shocking the situation. I was relieved, but only for a moment. It didn’t matter in the end. It just delayed the inevitable. My life was still hanging in Hae-jin’s hands.
‘Where’s Kim Hye-won?’
I flinched. That I hadn’t anticipated. I nearly said, Auntie?
‘Auntie?’ Hae-jin asked.
‘She said she was coming here yesterday? Where is she now?’
Hae-jin turned to look at me.
‘She came around two and left around five,’ I answered.
‘Five? Who was here then? Both of you?’
‘Just me,’ I said.
‘Does your aunt come by often?’
‘No.’
‘Then she must have come for a reason. Can I ask why she came?’
I glanced at Hae-jin, who still had his arms still crossed and was looking down at his feet. I took that to mean that I was to answer. I tried to be as concise as possible; I explained why she’d come and how we’d celebrated.
‘Did she say anything out of the ordinary when she left?’
‘No.’
‘Do you remember what she was wearing?’
I thought for a moment. Grey padded coat, jeans, black sweater, long necklace. ‘I think she was wearing jeans and a sweater, but I don’t know for sure. I didn’t really pay attention.’
Choi looked at Hae-jin. ‘Where were you?’
‘I was in Muan for work.’ Hae-jin looked up. ‘What’s this about, anyway?’
Choi continued. ‘Business trip?’
‘Something like that.’
‘When did you get back?’
‘A little after ten. What’s this about?’ Hae-jin was growing impatient.
‘What kind of work do you do? Do you work in an office?’
Hae-jin stopped answering, as if to indicate that the detectives needed to explain themselves first.
The other officer had wandered over to the key cabinet in the hall. ‘What’s this smell?’ he said loudly. ‘It’s like bleach and something metallic…’ He had his back to us as he looked at the family portrait on the wall, the one we’d had taken when we became brothers.
I glanced at him before looking back at Choi. There wouldn’t be any blood there. I’d wiped everything I’d spotted. If I hadn’t caught something, I wanted to believe the detective wouldn’t either.
‘We’re here because we can’t reach Kim Hye-won.’ Choi finally relented. ‘We called her with some questions about a report she filed, but her mobile was turned off. We tried her at home and the housekeeper said she’d gone to her sister’s house. That’s why we came here, to talk to her in person. It’s not that common for a robbery call and a missing persons report to come in from the same family around the same time, is it?’
‘A missing persons report?’ Hae-jin straightened up, looking surprised.
‘Kim Hye-won filed it around noon yesterday. And now you’re saying she came here after calling it in. Did she say anything to you?’
Hae-jin looked at me and I looked back at him. Now I understood what had happened. Auntie must have figured that filing a missing persons report was the only way to find out where Mother was. The only issue was that the police didn’t do anything when an adult was unreachable for a few days. She would need something else in order for them to move quickly. The false robbery report was therefore an effort to create more suspicion. She must have figured that the police would be interested in the fact that a woman living in a neighbourhood that had recently experienced a murder had called in a report about a burglar, then the very next day was found to be missing. Maybe she’d thought they would investigate immediately. She must have imagined that when she came in here bravely by herself, they wouldn’t be far behind. But the police had started their work a day later than Auntie had anticipated.
‘So your business in Muan? What kind of work do you do?’ Choi asked Hae-jin again.
Hae-jin said he worked in film, and then they made small talk. What do you do in film, what films have you worked on, are they in the cinema, did you go to Muan for another film? Hae-jin answered each question politely, explaining when he had gone to Muan, which train he had caught home, what time he had arrived.
‘So you were done at two, then you were by the Yeongsan River harbour,’ Choi concluded. ‘Were you with anyone?’
‘No, I was alone.’
‘And you took the train back by yourself too.’
‘Yes.’
Choi nodded. ‘Then let’s talk about your mother.’
Now? When was this going to end? I glanced at the clock. Where was the other guy? Had he gone into Mother’s room? Even though I knew that couldn’t logically be possible, I called loudly, ‘Where are you going?’
The other detective poked his head out from the staircase. ‘Oh, I’ve never been into a two-storey flat, so I was looking around.’ He came back into the living room. ‘What is this awful smell in here anyway?’ He walked past Hae-jin and paused at the entrance to the kitchen, muttering to himself, ‘It’s like a corpse is rotting in here or something.’
I looked at Choi with annoyance. He needed to control his partner. Choi ignored me. ‘Exactly when did your mother leave the house?’
‘The morning of December the ninth,’ I said. ‘I don’t know exactly when. She wasn’t here when I woke up.’
I could feel Hae-jin’s eyes on me. I repeated the story I’d told him initially. I couldn’t tell the truth, so there was no reason to be ashamed about telling this story; feeling ashamed wasn’t going to change the situation. Choi listened, nodding. Did you notice anything strange about her behaviour, does she often go on retreats, does she always go alone, did you get in touch with her, didn’t you think it was strange when you couldn’t reach her?
‘Not really, because she usually keeps her phone turned off when she’s at a retreat,’ I explained.
‘It’s strange,’ he commented. ‘Why would a woman who doesn’t even live with her sister call in a missing persons report when her son, who does live with her, thinks nothing is wrong? Why wouldn’t she at least discuss it with you?’
I didn’t answer.
‘Where do you think your mother is? Is there somewhere she’s always wanted to go?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Does she have close friends?’
‘She’s close with some people from church, but I don’t know if she went with them.’
‘Do you have their contact details? Did you look in your mother’s address book or anything?’
‘No, it would all be saved in her phone.’
‘And you don’t know any of their numbers?’
‘No.’
He stared at me in disbelief. I wanted to ask him if he knew his mother’s friends and their contact details.
‘And you didn’t see your mother leave either?’ Choi asked Hae-jin.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
Hae-jin began to flush, uncomfortable under my gaze. I didn’t look away so that he wouldn’t change his mind and say something incriminating. ‘I slept over at a friend’s studio in Sangam-dong the night before.’
‘So your friend was there too.’
‘No, he doesn’t live there. I was there alone.’
‘So you weren’t home when either your aunt or your mother disappeared from this flat?’
Hae-jin was about to say something but stopped. His face and even his ears were red. Choi observed his discomfort. The other detective was standing by the key cabinet again, pretending to look at its contents.
‘So nobody sees your mother leave the house,’ Choi summarised. ‘The older brother is out and the younger one is asleep in his room. That afternoon, someone who claims to be Kim Ji-won files a false robbery report. The next day her sister files a missing persons report, then she visits this flat and falls out of touch with everyone. The older brother is not home, but the younger one is. Did I get that right?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘So you’re here because nobody knows where Mother or Auntie is?’ Hae-jin asked.
‘You must have heard about the murder two nights ago?’ The other detective came to stand next to Choi.
Neither of us answered.
‘And around the same time, two women who live nearby, sisters at that, disappear, one after the other. Doesn’t that mean it could somehow be linked with the murder? I’d like to ask you something,’ the detective said, looking first at Hae-jin and then at me. ‘I’d like to take a look in your mother’s room. In your presence, of course.’
I almost staggered. I couldn’t breathe. Hae-jin was the last person to have gone in her room. There was no way he took the time to straighten things up before running upstairs. Auntie’s belongings would be spilling out of the suitcase, the blankets and sheets would be flung off the bed, the bloody mattress would be peeking out.
‘Why?’ Hae-jin asked.
‘A living space tells you a lot about a person,’ Choi explained. ‘It could be helpful in figuring out this situation. Whether there is something going on, or if she really has gone on a retreat like you say.’
Hae-jin stared at Choi. His face was getting redder. I felt like I was suffocating, as though I was hanging from a noose on a tree. Hae-jin held all the power. Even if I said no, if Hae-jin said go ahead, they would go right ahead.
‘Mother’s not going to be happy about this when she finds out,’ Hae-jin said.
Choi looked disappointed.
‘If something has happened to your mother —’ the other detective began.
Hae-jin cut him off brusquely. ‘Go and get a search warrant first.’
‘Okay —’ Choi said, but was himself cut off by his radio, instructing them to report back to the station for an emergency. The detectives looked at each other, then around the room. ‘We will, but don’t even think about going anywhere, the two of you. We won’t be long.’
They walked out quickly and I could hear their radios on the other side of the door.
‘Put your coat on and then come back down,’ Hae-jin ordered. He was sitting at the island.
I looked back at him on my way out of the kitchen.
‘We have to go to the station so you can confess.’
Was I hearing him correctly? The detectives had left not even five minutes ago. Confess? So he hadn’t chosen me over the police after all. Or had he changed his mind?
‘You mean it?’
‘I just didn’t want you to be arrested here and dragged out,’ Hae-jin said. He had a pained expression on his face.
‘You really mean it?’ I asked again.
‘Wear something warm. It’s cold out.’
It’s cold out. Was he being serious? I nodded and looked down at my feet. I suddenly remembered the U-shaped cliff. How I used to think, each time I woke from the dream, that if I could go back, I would make sure that pebble never hit me. But now I understood. Life meant living through cycles of similar events. My variation this time might be that I needed to make a slingshot first.
‘Okay.’
Hae-jin opened his mouth but closed it without saying anything. He looked like he wanted to punch me again. I knew he wouldn’t, though; he had settled on a course of action.
‘I want to eat something first. I’m hungry.’ I went back into the kitchen, took out the cake, found a fork and started to eat while leaning against the sink. I chewed carefully and slowly, calming myself down. I didn’t need bravery, nor did I need to make a decision right now; I just needed some more time. And luck. I saw Mother’s kitchen knives to the right of the sink. I knew Hae-jin was distracted.
Hae-jin spoke in disbelief from somewhere behind me. ‘How can you eat right now?’
I wanted to tell him about a concept I’d heard about a long time ago: that like other creatures, mankind had survived because it could adapt to various situations. Look at me, I thought, I’m adapting shockingly well to the idea of betraying you. I put down the cake and the fork and pulled out the car key from my pocket. I placed it on the island.
‘What’s this?’ Hae-jin looked down at the key. He knew what it was; he’d driven the car countless times.
‘You drive.’
He took the key and stood up, his face cold and expressionless. The Hae-jin I knew, whose face was so transparent, was no longer in front of me. It was as if our years of friendship and decade of living as brothers had vanished. All the trust, consideration, understanding, sympathy we’d shared, all our brotherly love.
‘It’s snowing outside. Get your parka,’ he ordered, sliding the car key into his pocket. The other pocket contained something long and bulky. Was it my razor?
‘It won’t be cold in the car,’ I said. I turned to walk to the front door.
Hae-jin followed me, also not stopping to get a coat. In just a sweater and jeans, he shoved his bare feet into his shoes. He couldn’t let me flee, so he was going to shiver in the cold with me. I put on the trainers I’d worn two nights ago. They were still damp and caked with mud. My feet were cold.
Hello began barking as soon as we left the flat. It sounded like he was in the hallway; he must be going out. I pressed the lift call button and stood with my hands behind my back, pushing my right hand into my left sleeve and grabbing my wrist. Hae-jin was pulling the backs of his trainers over his heels.
The lift arrived. I stepped in first, my hands still behind my back. I moved awkwardly and leant against the left wall so that the CCTV wouldn’t catch my back. Hae-jin followed me in and pressed the button for the car park. He stood next to me. The lift stopped at the seventh floor. The door opened and Hello, held in his red-lipsticked owner’s arms, got in. The owner looked over at us with a smile, which quickly stiffened as she took in my swollen, bloodied face. She glanced at Hae-jin, who tensed. I sensed that he was about to reflexively say, Oh, I didn’t do this to him, before realising a second later that in fact he had.
Hello’s owner turned to face the door, looking down, and I could tell she was uncomfortable. Hello seemed to sense something too; he began to bark loudly over his owner’s shoulder, growing more and more insistent. By the time we got to the car park, his barking was so loud inside the lift that my brain felt like it was going to explode in my skull. The moment the doors slid open, Hello’s owner shot out and disappeared through the emergency exit.
‘Come on,’ Hae-jin said.
I didn’t move. He dragged me out by my arm. When h
e let go in front of the emergency exit, I stopped.
‘What are you doing?’ Hae-jin opened the door and pulled on my elbow. I stumbled through. The ridiculous scene of me stopping, then dragging my feet a few steps when he tugged at me, and then stopping again when he let go continued until we got to Mother’s car. Hae-jin seemed to think I’d had a change of heart. Holding onto my elbow, he opened the passenger door and shoved me in. I made a show of resisting before crumpling inside. He slammed the door behind me. It didn’t take more than ten seconds for him to walk around and get in the driver’s side.
‘Put your seat belt on,’ he said, buckling his own.
I did so, sinking deeper into the seat and taking off my shoes.
He started driving. We encountered Hello’s owner’s car by the exit. Hae-jin flashed his lights to let her go first, but she didn’t move.
Once we were out of the car park, Hae-jin said, ‘We’re going to the Gundo Patrol Division.’ That was in District One. It would take less than five minutes to get there; it was just on the other side of the bridge after the junction.
‘I don’t care,’ I said, looking out through the windscreen. It was snowing. The first real snow of the year. It was really coming down, but it fell slowly. Hae-jin turned the wipers on. The clock read 8.36. I wondered about Yongi’s. Would Mr Yongi close early today? The first snow of the season had to be a reason to shut early, right?
Hae-jin drove towards the back gate. I looked at the side mirror; the lights of Hello’s owner’s car flashed as it emerged from the garage. We made a right towards the junction, and she followed; she must be headed to the sea wall.
‘You’re doing the right thing,’ Hae-jin said, glancing at me. ‘It’s the best option at this point.’ He looked sure of himself, but I could also sense guilt, nervousness that I might try something in my defeated and desperate state and the responsibility he felt to get me to the patrol division. He was probably saying this to reassure himself. The right thing, for me, wasn’t always the best option. The right thing also wasn’t the obvious thing; the right thing now was to hold on to my life. That would be the best option for both of us.
The Good Son Page 24