by June Hur
“Inspector,” a voice called from outside the office, “he is arrived.”
“Let him in.”
The doors slid open onto a gentleman clad in shimmering silk. His face glowed with health in the skylight, and if rumors were true, he had washed his face with the freshest water, fetched all the way from the peaks of a mountain. It was Young Master Ch’oi. “How gracious of you to invite me to your office.”
“Do you know why I asked for an audience with you?”
The young master flipped back the tail of his robe and sat down on the mat before Inspector Han, a low table between them. With a smile, he said, “I hear you are trying to arrest me.”
“And yet you still came.”
“Why should I be afraid of you?” he asked. “Already the queen regent has my life dangling from her fingers.”
“So the rumors have frightened you. Her Majesty will uproot Catholicism, first with your family.”
As the men exchanged cold words, I was reminded of the norigae ornament Inspector Han had given to me. I’d kept it safe within my personal chest for the past few days. But now the promise retained within the norigae seemed tainted, stained by the inspector’s resentment toward me.
“Damo Seol,” Inspector Han said, his voice stern.
Startled, I glanced up.
His gaze was on me, distant and indifferent. “Remove the bandage and show this gentleman your hand.”
The cavern in my chest grew. Just do what he tells you to do, I thought. I unwrapped the bandage around my left hand, exposing bloody, scab-crusted wounds, that looked like someone had chopped my fingers off and sewn different ones on. Only Inspector Han looked away. Guilt bit into him, perhaps.
“And what kind of evidence is this?” the young master asked.
The inspector shook his head, as though trying to shake the redness of my blood from his vision. He returned his gaze to the rogue. “We were nearly killed by the men who tailed us.”
“And what has that to do with me?”
“What do you think?”
The young master shrugged.
“Those rogues interfered with my investigation, and one of them mentioned your name,” Inspector Han said. “How do you feel about that?”
“So you are convinced that I hired men to tail you.”
“I am.”
“Then I will not attempt to dissuade you. All I shall say is that, if I did indeed hire those men, I would not feel that I had done wrong.”
“Please, elaborate.”
“Vengeance is a common practice in our kingdom, Inspector. So what crime would I have committed in wanting to discover the truth about Lady O and her lover?”
“What do you mean, ‘vengeance’?”
“A rat informed me that you were traveling to Suwon, following some information. That it was related to Lady O’s death.”
“What were you hoping to discover?”
“Perhaps I wanted to know the depth of Lady O’s depravity, to expose it and to set right my reputation of having once been humiliated by a slut. I might have wanted to discover who her lover was too, to punish the man who tempted and killed her. Perhaps I wanted to wield justice my own way.” He rested his elbow on the low-legged table, then leaned in toward the inspector. “I think you understand, more than anyone, what it means to hate. I hear you offered to spearhead the Catholic purge.”
My heart recoiled, and perhaps the young master saw the disappointment crinkling my brows, for he made efforts to paint the inspector even blacker. “When the mourning period for King Chŏngjo ends,” he said, “I hear you will execute or banish the Catholics. Men, women, and children alike will be put to death.”
“Ch’oi Jinyeop,” Inspector Han said, his voice low, his gaze unwavering, “I take no pleasure in harming others.”
“But? There is always a ‘but’ with honorable men like you, sir.”
“There are only two types of people. Those you protect and those you crush so that they can never rise up again.”
“Not all—” The words slipped out of me, pushed out by the memory of Lady Kang. The only aristocrat who had ever been nice to me from the start. I bit my lips hard, punishing them.
“Please.” The young master gestured. “Finish your sentence.”
I swallowed. “I just … Surely they cannot all be so bad. Could they, Inspector?”
The corner of Inspector Han’s lips twitched. “They are all bad. Their teaching encourages division. Father against the son, and the son against the father; the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother.”
In the most casual tone, the young master said, “Just as it divided your own family, Inspector?” His gaze slid to the black-lacquered document box resting on the shelf, the box Officer Kyŏn had stolen a letter from. I’d nearly forgotten about it.
“That is none of your concern,” Inspector Han said.
“Well, then. It is almost time for my afternoon tea.” The young master uncrossed his legs and rolled up onto his feet, shaking the wrinkles out from his robe.
“I am not done interviewing you.” Irritation pricked Inspector Han’s voice.
“You may interrogate me all you want once you obtain a warrant.” The young master turned toward the door, and I weakly moved forward to open it. But then he stopped and looked over his shoulder at the inspector. “Allow me to make one thing clear, however. If I did hire those men, it was to avenge my reputation, not my heart. I never loved Lady O. I have never cared much for anyone.”
* * *
All day, the young master’s remark lurked in the back of my mind. He knew, everyone seemed to know, of Inspector Han’s deep-rooted contempt for Catholics. But I couldn’t see how his history connected to Lady O’s death.
I sharpened a knife on the whetstone, for the chief maid had directed me to do so despite my condition. As I did, I lined the other suspects up in my mind; I longed for orderliness, the world outside me far too chaotic.
There was the cocky young master, who’d declared that a woman like Lady O deserved death. Surely a man who could declare such incriminating things assumed he was immune to police interference.
There was also his father, Councillor Ch’oi. The councillor belonged to the Southerner faction, which was endangered by its ties to Catholicism, and was soon to be wiped out by the queen regent. He needed to capture the priest to shield himself from the purge. And, coincidentally, a Catholic woman had turned up dead.
And Scholar Ahn. He had run away while I was sick—from what I’d overheard—perhaps to avoid interrogation and the punishment of having seduced the daughter of an aristocrat. Punishment for sexual deviance was severe in our kingdom, including floggings and imprisonment. It was understandable that Scholar Ahn would run away for this reason, but he could have also escaped to avoid being punished as the killer.
Another questionable person was the victim’s mother, Matron Kim. She had given her daughter a suicide knife, the symbol of ultimate honor, which had been used as the murder weapon. Her daughter was not only a heretic, but an adulteress who’d borne a son out of wedlock. Violence could have resulted from an accumulation of shame and anger in the heart of a mother …
A scream ripped through the silence. Startled, I nearly dropped the knife. “What is that?” I asked a passing servant.
“Maid Soyi,” she whispered. “She’s been screaming at the guards to let her out.”
“Why?”
“It is her turn again. Not yet, but in the afternoon. I think she knows … Inspector Han seems to be at his wits’ end. He’s using torture this time to interrogate her.”
She whispered the terrifying technique that would be used. The juri-teulgi method, where one’s knees, bound together, would be forced by sticks in opposite directions, again and again, until the leg bones curved. Blood drained from my head, leaving me dizzy as I steadied myself against the counter. I had to go speak with Soyi before it was too late.
* * *
Whatever ha
d happened in the prison block, or within Soyi’s mind, it had worn her out until she seemed as translucent as a ghost. The moment I stepped into the wooden cell, swamped in shadows, Soyi’s lips would not stop moving.
“I dreamt of skeletons, and when I woke up, I heard the guards talking about graves, and then just yesterday, I felt something under the straw mat. Look, look what I found.” Soyi opened her palm and showed me a tiny bone, perhaps belonging to a rat. “Isn’t that strange? It is a cluster of coincidences, little links I see each day that somehow all seem to connect with one another, leading somewhere.”
“Leading where?” I whispered.
“Gods, I don’t know. Wherever it’s going, I don’t want to go there. I just want to be left alone.” Her hands darted out and, grabbing my injured hand, she squeezed it.
My mouth dropped open, my face contorting with pain as I snatched my arm back. “Ow!” I yelled so loudly it seemed to wake her up from a spell. Something of her old self returned at the sight of my bloody, bound-up hand.
“So it is true,” she whispered, her breathing slowing down. “I overheard everything.”
I held my hand, cradling it. “Overheard what?”
“Your inspector is like every other aristocrat. His kindness is conditional. So long as you please your inspector, do what he tells you, he will treat you like his sister. But upset him, and you become again a mere slave to him.”
Silence filled my mouth. No words rose in his defense, because Soyi was right.
Then the translucent, ghostly look returned to her eyes. “Don’t let Inspector Han take advantage of your loyalty, as Lady O took advantage of mine,” she hissed. “She made me do things I didn’t wish to do. She promised to return my nobi deed and free me from servitude if I obeyed her.”
I stilled, afraid that I might disturb this moment. “Like what?”
“She made me deliver letters to Scholar Ahn, and I’d go back and forth, terrified of being caught. I dreaded it, each time she asked me to sneak out for her—”
“Wait,” I whispered. “You knew Scholar Ahn was the lover all this time?”
“I…” It dawned on Soyi what she had confessed. “I mean…”
Right then, the prison doors flew open. I gasped and turned around to see Hyeyeon barging in, grabbing the whimpering Soyi, and dragging her out. Inspector Han stood at the far corner of the prison block. Watching me. Steadily. Like he had been there in the shadows all this time. Like he had heard everything.
* * *
In the main police courtyard, Soyi’s two knees were bound together, and two sticks passed between the legs, which two floggers pulled in contrary directions, forcing her bones to curve. Then the sticks eased, allowing the bones back into their natural position, and Soyi’s scream crumpled into a whimper. I bit my lip to keep myself from yelling out, “Stop this!” It was too cruel.
“Why did you not confess earlier to me that you knew Scholar Ahn was the lover?” Inspector Han demanded. “You were already in trouble and might as well have revealed everything else.”
“I … I did not wish for you to know that I was delivering the letters.”
“But why? The letter delivery doesn’t implicate you in the murder. It implicates Scholar Ahn.”
“I was scared.” Long strands of black hair fell over Soyi’s blanched face. “That is all.”
“Tell the truth and do not cause any more confusion.”
Her eyes reddened. The vein along her temple bulged, and words ripped out from her chest. “That is the truth. What more do you want me to say?”
At the inspector’s gesture, the floggers grabbed the sticks and pulled in opposite directions again, and I could see her legs bending into a terrifying curve, about to shatter. I held my hands over my ears to muffle her unbearable noise, and then all fell silent. Soyi’s head swayed; she had fainted in her seat. With a callousness that I now recognized, Inspector Han took a bowl of water and splashed her face. He did not even have the mercy to allow her a moment’s relief from the pain.
Soyi blinked and spit and cried, her hair dripping, streaming down her face like black ink.
“Any information that makes my duty easier will save you from further pain,” he said with a menacing quietude. “In fact, I will have you released from the police bureau, immune from further harassment, if you tell me the truth in detail.”
Soyi tilted her head far back and stared at the sky as a bird flew overhead. How she must long to fly away with it, over the walls of the police bureau. I saw a stream of tears run down from the corners of her eyes. All those days she had held it in, staying strong, but now she was broken.
She closed her eyes and spoke through shudders. “I wanted to protect him.”
“Go on. Tell me. Scholar Ahn is beyond your power to protect now. Save yourself, at the least.”
Bound as she was, Soyi rocked back and forth in her seat. “He promised,” she whispered. “With Lady O dead, there was no one to protect me. Matron Kim would surely do something horrible to me. He promised me my freedom and…” The dark irises of her eyes gleamed with desperation. “And he said if I revealed his relationship with Lady O, he would make sure I was dragged down along with him. I feared for my life.”
“And have you any idea where Scholar Ahn is now?” Inspector Han asked.
“I do not, sir. I swear it.”
The inspector’s pale-eyed stare did not waver from Soyi, and I followed his gaze to see what it was he saw in the maid. Another lie? All I saw was a shadow of a woman, not a fighting streak left in her. Perhaps the inspector saw what I saw, for he blinked and looked away, as though she had quenched his suspicion. He flicked his hand at her. “And is there something you also hid from the police, just as you hid your involvement in the affair?”
She lowered her head, her lips opening and closing, trying and yet unable to utter whatever she was hiding.
“You need to tell me everything, withholding nothing, or you will not leave this place alive.”
Silence stretched, and then the truth came out, a timid stream of words, as if she were unsure how to proceed. “A man came up to me … and … and he said, ‘Are you not the messenger for Lady O and Scholar Ahn?’ I tried to deny it, but he had been watching my movements for too long, and he told me something frightening … He said that I shouldn’t rely on my mistress any longer. Her days were numbered. Scholar Ahn had sent a note to the police, exposing her heretical beliefs and something about a priest. Indeed, she must have done something to upset Scholar Ahn, for they had stopped communicating in the previous few days…”
Inspector Han nodded his head, a gesture that he approved of Soyi’s confession, and that was when the truth came out in a flood. “I wondered how I would survive without her. How would I earn a living? What would I eat? Where would I stay? I worried about these things day and night. But the strange man offered me a handsome sum. He said there would be more if I did one favor for him.”
“And what was that?”
“He gave me a letter and told me to give it to Lady O. He said to pretend it was from Scholar Ahn.”
“Can you describe this man?”
“It is difficult to say. His face was covered with a scarf and his bamboo hat was lowered. He was wearing a black robe.”
“And have you seen him again since that encounter?”
“No, sir.”
“A witness claims that a man in a bamboo hat, garbed in black, was seen delivering a note to Scholar Ahn five days ago. Right after I’d left for Yongjusa temple in Suwon. You knew nothing of this?”
“I did not, sir, I swear it.”
A moment of quiet observation passed, and finally Inspector Han asked, “That letter you received from the stranger. Did you read it before or after delivering it to your mistress?”
Soyi sat there as still as death. Then she whispered, “Before.”
“A letter from a stranger that summoned your mistress to come out at night. Were you not worried for her safety? Did you not
think she would be in harm’s way?”
“I … I did…”
“Repeat what was written in the letter you received.”
“He said his loyalty to her was as solid as stone … to meet him at their usual place … at the Hour of the Rat. He wished to tell her something.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine as I stared at Soyi, the maid whose wounds I had cleansed, whom I had looked at with a heart brimming with pity. But had she deserved this pity? Soyi might not have killed her mistress, yet she had made the murder possible.
“I am done with her.” Inspector Han summoned a legal clerk and said, “She ought to be punished for causing such chaos.”
“No, no!” Soyi frantically shook her head, as though her hair were on fire and she were trying to douse it with the wind. “No, no, no—I want to be free!”
“You delivered a letter that ought never to have been delivered. You kept silent when you should have spoken. You knew beforehand that Lady O’s life was in danger, yet permitted the stranger to lure her out, and all this resulted in her death. That is how this crime took place. Lock her up.”
The damos unbound Soyi from the chair, dragged her to her feet. The noise that escaped from her was neither a scream nor a cry, but something in between man and beast that tore out from her chest and exploded in the air.
And not once did Inspector Han flinch.
ELEVEN
THE HORRIBLE NOISE Soyi had made continued to ring in my ears.
A month ago, I had felt a morbid interest in murder cases, enjoying the thrill of chasing the truth. But the thrill had vanished, replaced by a heaviness in my chest that made breathing difficult.
The truth seemed as tangled as a lie, and the darkness seemed to grow darker, with no promise of a bright morning.
Officer Kyŏn, for one, seemed pleased by the turn of events, sowing anxiety among the other officers, whispering, “This bamboo hat man, he has outsmarted Inspector Han.”