Go Hae-ri spent the next week poring over construction permit filings from all over the state, only occasionally stopping to glance at her rose as it expanded into perfect bloom. She did her best to ignore that warm glow that kept threatening to suffuse her insides when she looked over at it, trying to remain focused. The rose had been relocated from the water bottle she'd placed it in to a beautiful cut glass vase which had mysteriously appeared on her desk the day after Cha Dal-geon had visited the Kim Woo-gi's priest. Her office smelled amazing. Dal-geon had been right. Perhaps she did need to appreciate nature more.
She signed off on the paperwork to clear Gi Tae-ung for active duty with mixed feelings. On the one hand, she was pleased that he was recovered; on the other, she worried that clearing him for active duty put him more firmly in the path of danger.
This was irrational, she knew. He wouldn't be in any more danger than the rest of the team, and she couldn't very well confine them all to desk duty for the foreseeable future. Maybe that was the problem. She was secretly worried about all of them, but with Tae-ung she felt even more protective because of his recent injury.
Kim Se-hun still hadn't made much progress on Miki, but he was working doggedly on the Jo Bu-yeong connection. Tae-ung hadn't turned up much in his discussion with Kim Do-soo's co-workers, but he was sifting through reams of military records that a friend of his from the Special Forces had helped him get access to.
For the past several days, Dalgeon had been disappearing to Life Healing, of all places. He still hadn't told her exactly what he was doing there. When she asked, he replied cheekily that he was engaging in a study of 'Cult Recruitment 101.' He was still good about his check ins, though, calling to chat with her for a few minutes every couple of hours when he was 'between sessions.' He still insisted he would explain everything to her, once he had finalized his theory. Leaving him to his own devices in the company of someone as creepy as Ahn Dabong made her distinctly uneasy, but she swallowed her objections and let him pursue his mysterious theory without interfering.
Now, Dal-geon was in his usual place on the worn leather couch, eyes closed, but not asleep. Hae-ri had learned to recognize by now when he was actually sleeping and when he was pretending to do so for the benefit of passers by. Right now he had his eyes closed in the way that meant his brain was busy whirring away beneath the surface, turning over a particularly interesting puzzle.
Since Tae-ung was still mired in files of military personnel, he had a perfectly reasonable excuse to be at his desk despite the fact that Hae-ri had cleared him for active duty the day before. Se-hun, on the other hand, she suspected of delaying his next interview for the express purpose of lingering in the bullpen to catch the first glimpse of Hwa-sook when she returned.
Sure enough, Se-hun spotted Hwa-sook getting off the elevator before anyone else had even registered the ring of the elevator chime. "She's here!" he announced eagerly. He'd been tipping back in his chair to secure the best vantage point from which to observe the elevator, and he nearly toppled over in his haste to get up and greet Hwa-sook in the hall. "Let me grab those for you," he offered by way of greeting, relieving Hwa-sook of her bags.
"Gomawo, Se-hun," Hw-sook said, giving him a grateful smile. He beamed back.
"Welcome back, Snow white!" Hae-ri said, pleased. She was so ridiculously relieved to see her she surprised herself by giving the agent a quick hug. It wasn't like she'd really expected Edward Park to follow Hwa-sook to Jeju or anything, but she had to admit she felt better when her team was all together these days.
Hwa-dook returned her hug and smiled at her. "Gomawo, Timjangnim."
"How was your flight?" Tae-ung asked.
"Not too bad. I got a lot done."
Her eyes held that glittering intensity that Hae-ri associated with the manic or drug-addled. In this case it was the former; Hwa-sook seemed to have passed that threshold of sleep deprivation Hae-ri remembered from college where you could suddenly write that ten page paper you hadn't had a clue how to start for the past three weeks.
"How's your family?" Se-hun asked.
Hwa-sook shrugged. "They're good. Eomma was driving me crazy by the time I'd been there two days, but it was good to see everyone. And my nephew is gorgeous," she added proudly.
"Did you find anything interesting about Han Ki-soo?" Dal-geon asked.
"Ne," Hwa-sook said excitedly. "I think so, anyway. If I'm right, it could be the key to how Edward Park connected up with him."
Hae-ri felt a stirring of excitement herself. God, they could really use a break on this one. "What is it?"
"Ki-soo was adopted," Hwa-sook announced.
Was that it? Hae-ri realized how the rest of the team must have felt when she had announced her little revelation about the dams. Her idea must have sounded as crazy and far-fetched as Hwa-sook's did now. She'd been pushing them too hard, she realized. They were all grasping at straws, including her. She was still convinced she was on the right track with her theory about the development planning, but she had to admit that despite the progress she'd made, she still didn't have solid evidence to back it up. "Over a hundred thousand children are adopted a year," Hae-ri pointed out. "Most of them don't end up setting people on fire and trying to kill their fiancées."
"It's funny, though," Se-hun commented. "Jo Bu-yeong didn't live with his birth parents, either."
Dal-geon raised his head with interest. That had gotten his attention. "Didn't he?"
Se-hun nodded. "Yeah. He was kicked around different foster homes most of his life."
Hae-ri shook her head. "Lots of people grow up in the foster care system. That could be a coincidence."
"Let's hear Snow white out," Dal-geon said slowly. "I want to know why she thinks the fact that Han Ki-soo was adopted is significant."
"It's the only thing that makes sense," Hwa-sook said immediately. "I built a timeline for Ki-soo's life, and it's the only thing that stands out. I talked to his friends, his family, and everyone says he was dead normal. He was smart, good-looking, had pretty girlfriends and tons of friends."
"So?" Hae-ri asked.
"So if his life was so perfect, what could Edward Park have to offer him to convince him to join him?" Hwa-sook continued.
"Fair point," Hae-ri admitted.
"I talked to his mother, though, and she told me he was adopted when he was ten. He had kind of a troubled childhood, and he was pretty messed up when he first came to their family. He used to have these fits of rage. He got into fights at school, destroyed things in the house, that sort of thing. They lived in Busan when they first adopted him, but he got in so much trouble one time that the school he was attending expelled him. She wouldn't tell me exactly what it was, but it caused some pretty bad blood in the town where they lived, so his father got a job in his hometown in Jeju, and they moved so Ki-soo could have a fresh start."
"What town was it that they lived in before they moved?" Dal-geon asked curiously.
"Allak-dong."
Dal-geon frowned, but didn't say anything more.
"So did he do better after they moved to Jeju?" Hae-ri asked.
"Not right away," Hwa-sook told her. "He was still moody, and still got into trouble a lot. But then when he was fifteen they sent him to this football camp back in Busan he'd been begging to go to, and his mother said he was like a new person when he came back. All of a sudden he was confident, sweet, considerate. He started doing better in school, made the varsity football team, started getting really popular."
Hae-ri shook her head. "I don't see how this has anything to do with Edward Park. It sounds like the intensive training experience at the camp did him good and it turned him around."
"Here's the thing, though," Hwa-sook said. "He never went to that camp."
Hae-ri frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It seemed strange to me that his personality seemed to change so much after that one experience, so I called the coach who ran the camp. He said Han Ki-soo was registered to the camp, but he never showed up. He called the contact information listed on his paperwork when he didn't turn up after the first day. He said Ki-soo's father told him Ki-soo had decided not to attend the camp, but he could keep the money. He remembered because when Ki-soo was drafted into the KFL, he remembered thinking it was a shame that he hadn't ended up attending after all, because he could have used the fact that he made it to the KFL as a way to promote the camp."
"Where was the camp?" Dal-geon asked suddenly.
"Myeojang-dong," Hwa-sook replied.
Hae-ri looked at him. "Why do you want to know that?"
"I'll tell you in a minute," Dal-geon said. "Go on with your story, Snow white."
"I talked to Ki-soo's father about what the coach said, and he had no idea what I was talking about. He said Ki-soo called them every week and told them he was having a great time at camp. He never talked to the coach at all."
"If Han Ki-soo wasn't at the camp, where the hell was he?" Tae-ung asked.
"Exactly," Hwa-sook said. "A fifteen year old kid disappears for three months and no one can account for his time? And then afterwards he's like a completely different person? That has to be when Edward Park recruited him."
"It's definitely worth looking into," Hae-ri admitted.
"I was hoping you'd say that," Hwa-sook said.
"I take it you have a plan," Hae-ri commented.
Hwa-sook nodded. "I'm going to try to find out what happened to him when he was a kid. I think whatever it was might be connected to this violent streak he had that Edward Park apparently was able to take advantage of and cultivate in him."
"How are you going to do that?" Tae-ung wanted to know.
"Ki-soo's mother said that he came to them from the foster system, so I'm going to talk to the social worker who was in charge of his case. I have an appointment with her this afternoon."
"Where are you meeting her?" Dal-geon asked.
"At the county social services office."
Dal-geon turned to Se-hun. "Where did Jo Bu-yeong grow up?"
Se-hun blinked. "Uh, just outside Sajik-dong, I think. A little town called Kkoch."
"You're meeting her at the county social services office that serves Allak-dong, right?" Dal-geon asked her.
"That's right."
"Where are you going with this?" Hae-ri asked him curiously.
"Allak-dong and Sajik-dong are both in Dongnae-gu," he told her. "And Mian-san is seated in Boksan-dong, Dongnae-gu district."
"I'm aware of that," Hae-ri said impatiently. "What's your point?"
"Jerome's friends told me he lived in Mian-san before he moved to downtown Busan. I figured it was just part of an elaborate backstory for his cover identity, but what if that part of it was true? The best lies contain an element of truth, after all."
"That's a hell of a coincidence," Tae-ung remarked.
Dal-geon was thinking. "Jerome would have been a minor when his father was arrested. It's possible he might have spent some time in the foster system, as well. Maybe that's part of Edward Park's recruiting ground."
"But Min Jae-sik already knew Edward Park by that point, or he never would have ended up in jail," Hae-ri said. "Didn't Jerome meet Edward Park through his father?"
"Bear with me for a moment," Dal-geon said to her. "Suppose Jerome didn't know anything about Edward Park until after his father was arrested. What if he got tossed into the system and Edward Park approached him afterwards as a way of making amends to Min Jae-sik? Jerome and his father might have bonded over their relationship with him after the fact."
"It's possible," Hae-ri conceded.
"If Jerome didn't have any other family besides his father, he would have been lonely and isolated after his arrest. The perfect prey for Edward Park when he was looking for recruits."
Hae-ri frowned, remembering. "Jessica Lee was in the foster care system, too. But I don't see how Edward Park could have caught sight of her that way."
Dal-geon shook his head. "Jessica wasn't one of his recruits. He always concealed his true self with her. It's possible that her tenure in the foster care system holds some significance, but presently I'm inclined to think Jessica falls into a separate category than these three young men. I think we should focus on the connection between them, for the time being."
"All three of them would have been pretty emotionally isolated if they grew up in the foster care system," Tae-ung commented. "One of my buddies from the army grew up in the system and he had some pretty awful stories about what it was like. Sometimes where they send you isn't all that much better than what you're getting away from."
"That's true," Hae-ri said. "Foster kids often come from environments of abuse, and sometimes the system doesn't do the best job of placing them in safer homes. It would be easy for a man like Edward Park to take advantage of their vulnerability and turn it to his own purposes."
"Yes," Dal-geon agreed. "And incidentally happens to fall in line with a theory I've been developing."
"The theory you've been refusing to tell me?" Hae-ri said, piqued. His evasiveness on the subject to this point still rankled. "That theory?"
Dal-geon flashed a grin at her. "Ne, that theory."
"So are you going to tell us about it now, or what?" Hae-ri demanded.
He tapped his lips with his index finger as though to signify he was considering the question seriously. "I believe the time may be ripe to share my theory, yes. Since you asked so nicely, Hae-rissi."
"Let's have it, then."
"You know what I've never been able to figure out about Edward Park?" Dal-geon asked philosophically.
"You mean besides how to catch him?" Hae-ri said tartly.
Dal-geon ignored this remark. "I've never been able to figure out how he inspires such unwavering loyalty in his followers."
"I thought you believed Edward Park offers his followers something they want that they can't get for themselves," Hae-ri said.
"Ne, but it has to be more than that, doesn't it?"
"Waeyo?" Tae-ung asked.
"Because they stay loyal to him no matter the circumstances, regardless of the cost to themselves. They refuse to betray him even when they've been captured and they have to know giving the police information about him would help them cut a deal."
Hae-ri thought about Jerome, laughing in Dal-geon's face in his last breath, and Jo Bu-yeong, taunting him after Han Ki-soo had burned him alive. "They're willing to die to protect his secrets."
"Majayo. That's not the behavior of a rational being with a healthy sense of self-preservation. The question then becomes 'What is he offering them that is worth more to them than their own lives?'"
"Beats me," Tae-ung said. "What do you think it is?"
Dal-geon shrugged. "What are people willing to give up their own lives for?"
"To save the life of another," Hae-ri said, thinking of her family and her team.
Dal-geon smiled at her. "That may be true for you and your fine compatriots here, Hae-rissi, but for the sake of argument, let's assume Edward Park's minions are not motivated by such heroic instincts. What else would convince someone to die willingly to protect the secrets of someone else?"
"A promise of something better if they did," Hwa-sook suggested. "Life after death."
"That's right. Gold star goes to Snow white," Dal-geon said, sounding pleased.
Se-hun frowned. "You think Edward Park is some kind of religious leader?"
"Not exactly. I admit I was leaning in that direction for awhile, but after talking to the Kim Woo-gi's priest, I started to rethink that idea. I think it's more likely that Edward Park has qualities of a cult leader."
"That's why you've been hanging out at Life Healing all week?" Hae-ri said incredulously. "Why the hell didn't you just say that before? I thought you'd convinced yourself Ahn Dabong was Edward Park and I was going to have to go over there one of these days and rescue you from being made a sacrificial offering between seminars."
"I told you, I needed to work through the idea in my own mind first."
Hae-ri shook her head. "I don't believe you. You refused to tell me what you were doing just because you couldn't stand the idea of admitting you might be wrong if your theory didn't pan out."
"Jinjja, Hae-rissi, I-"
Tae-ung cut them off. "You think Edward Park is connected to Life Healing?"
Dal-geon shook his head. "Aniyo. Not necessarily. I'm not going to rule out the possibility, of course, but I suspect Edward Park wouldn't like the idea of tying himself to a large organization like Life Healing. He prefers to operate alone. However, I thought it would be worth observing the members of Life Healing to gain insight into the cult mentality, to try to learn what attracts people to the fold."
"So what did you find out?"
"Emotional isolation is definitely one part of the appeal of the cult organization. Most people long to feel like they belong to something greater than themselves, and the cult offers that."
"What does this have to do with the Kim Woo-gi?" Hae-ri wanted to know.
"Mainstream religious organizations provide many of the same benefits that cults offer. The promise of life after death, that feeling of belonging to something larger than one's self."
"Okay..." Hae-ri said, annoyed by the comparison.
"So why would the couple , who already belonged to a church, be attracted to a separate cult organization?"
"Mollayo. Waeyo?"
"Because they are getting something better than what the church offers them."
"What could be better than the promise of heaven?" Hwa-sook asked.
"The church promises access to heaven only after a lifetime of slavish devotion to goodness and prayer."
"So?"
"That's an awful lot of work for something that is never guaranteed. Church members have to take the promises of heaven on faith, without ever receiving proof that it truly exists. Cult members, on the other hand, have a low tolerance for uncertainty. And let's face it, who can blame them? Wouldn't it be better if you not only received the promise of a better life after you died, but you knew for a fact that you were going to get it?"
Hae-ri sighed. Only Dal-geon would require so much build up to answer one simple question. "What's your point, Dal-geonssi?"
"I think Edward Park promises a better life to his followers if they die for him. And I think he has some way to prove to them that what he is promising is real."
"How could he possibly prove that?"
"I have no idea," he said. "That's what I still have to figure out."
"So we think we're looking for someone who kills people, builds economic zones, leads a cult, and targets foster kids as his recruits," Tae-ung summarized.
"That's right," Dal-geon confirmed.
"Busy guy," Tae-ung commented.
"We think we're looking for someone with those qualities," Hae-ri emphasized. "So far all we have are theories. We still need to find the proof." She looked at Tae-ung. "What about Kim Do-soo and Hwang Pil-yong? Do you think this potential foster care connection could apply to them, too?"
Tae-ung considered this. "Maybe. I won't be able to tell for sure until I can get a clean ID on Kim Do-soo, though. Hwang Pil-yong is a possibility. I haven't found out anything about his childhood yet, but I'm pretty ssure Hwang was his real identity. He was definitely a loner though, so the cult thing seems like a good fit."
"All right," Hae-ri said. "Snow white, good work on Han Ki-soo. Go ahead and follow up on the foster care angle. Your interview with the social worker is this afternoon?"
Hwa-sook nodded.
"Take Se-hun with you," Hae-ri said. "Check if there's any kind of connection with Miki."
"See if you can find anything about Jerome, while you're at it," Dal-geon instructed them. "Although for the purposes of this particular inquiry, I suppose it would be better to check under the name of Park Yoo-chul."
"Do you want to go with them?" Hae-ri asked him.
He shook his head. "Shrek and Snow white can handle it. I think my skills will be of more use here for the time being."
"Okay, then. Hwa-sook and Se-hun will go down to the social services office in Dongnae-gu this afternoon and find out everything they can about Han Ki-soo, Jo Bu-yeong, and Park Yoo-chul. In the meantime, Hwa-sook, go home and get some rest. You can pick up Se-hun here once you've had a couple hours of sleep. Se-hun, can you keep yourself entertained until then?"
Se-hun nodded. "I found a neighbor of Miki's who's willing to talk to me, so I can go over to his place and do that interview now." He checked his watch. "It might be kind of tight getting back here, though. Hwa-sook, why don't I just pick you up at your place when I'm done and we can leave from there?"
Hwa-sook shrugged. "Works for me. Can you drop me off on your way, too? I took a cab here from the airport."
"No problem," Se-hun said. "Your place is on the way, anyway." Hae-ri knew that Se-hun would have volunteered to drive Hwa-sook home even if it meant an extra twenty hours in the car, let alone twenty minutes, but no one challenged his assertion.
The two agents left, and Tae-ung turned to Hae-ri. "Have you made any more progress with the construction permits?"
"Not as much as I'd hoped," she sighed. "Every time I think I've found a connection it seems like it remains just out of reach. I'm sure it's there, though. I just need to keep at it a little longer. But I'm taking a bit of a break from it today, to be honest. I think it's one of those times when I need to step back from it for a little while to get a better perspective on it, you know?"
"I'm glad you're taking a break, Hae-rissi," Dal-geon said. "It's a refreshing change from your usual conviction that you can solve any problem by running yourself into the ground. I suppose it's too much to hope for that you've been shut in your office eating popcorn and reading back issues of fashion magazines?"
"Yeah, I thought about doing that," Hae-ri said dryly. "But then I thought I'd like to keep my brain cells intact and decided to look more deeply into Min Jae-sik, instead."
"What have you found out about him so far?" Tae-ung asked.
"Most of what I know I've found out from his prison records. Reports from the security officers indicated that he was quiet, kept to himself most of the time, but he could be violent if someone provoked him. I've been trying to track down the letters his son sent to him, in case they were part of his personal effects when he died, but no luck so far. No idea yet how he first connected up with Edward Park." She shook her head. "I still can't believe he took the trap for Edward Park's first murder for him."
"The first we know of, anyway," Tae-ung said.
"You're right, Hae-rissi," Dal-geon said, thinking of Min Jae-sik and his son. "It is strange that Min Jae-sik took the blame for it."
"Why is that strange?" Tae-ung asked. "You were just talking about how he could convince his followers to do whatever he wanted with his freaky cult powers."
"It's strange because he didn't stay one hundred percent loyal to him," Dal-geon said. "His behavior was never quite consistent. He pled not guilty when he was accused of the murder. Then once he was convicted, he told anyone who would listen that Edward Park was the real killer, but he never filed an appeal. His son said Edward Park was his friend, but he still revealed Edward Park's identity to Jeong Gook-pyo."
"I was never as convinced of that as you were," Hae-ri said. "I still think Jeong Gook-pyo was playing you, making it seem like he knew more than he did so you'd help him get out of prison."
"If he didn't know anything, why would Edward Park have bothered to kill him once he got out of jail?"
"I think Edward Park believed Min Jae-sik told Jeong Gook-pyo something. That doesn't mean he actually did."
This was an old argument, and Dal-geon was under no illusion that rehashing it now would get them any closer to settling it than they ever had been.
"Be that as it may," he said smoothly. "The significant thing here is that despite Min Jae-sik taking the trap for Edward Park's misdeeds, it appears he was conflicted in his loyalties, at the very least. What interests me is why Edward Park didn't just kill him."
"How do you know he didn't?" Tae-ung asked.
Hae-ri shook her head. "I was able to get Min Jae-sik's medical records from the prison. He died of kidney disease. He suffered from it for years before he died. Cha Dal-geon has a good point. Edward Park has killed other followers of his for far less. Hell, he's killed some of his followers who never even showed any sign they might betray him, just to prevent the possibility."
"Any theories why Edward Park never killed him?"
"I think," Dal-geon said slowly, "that Min Jae-sik and Edward Park had a deep personal connection. What the nature of that connection was, I don't know, but I'd be willing to bet something about it made Edward Park reluctant to kill Min Jae-sik."
"I haven't been able to find out much about his early life so far," Hae-ri said. "I know he was born in Busan, but I don't think he grew up there. Maybe that's where the connection between him and Edward Park is-somewhere in those missing years."
Dal-geon frowned. "I did some research of my own at one point on Min Jae-sik. At the time I didn't think anything I found was particularly important, but I'm wondering now if something I thought was irrelevant at the time might seem more important given what we know now."
"How's that supposed to help us now?" Tae-ung asked.
Dal-geon shrugged. "It's possible I might have noted something about it in one of my notebooks."
"Thought you had all that stuff locked up in your memory palace," Tae-ung commented.
Dal-geon shook his head. "I only store things in the memory palace that I know are important. It gets too cluttered, otherwise. I use the notebooks to keep records of information when I'm not sure if it will be useful or not. Besides, the act of writing helps me sort out what needs to be added to the memory palace in the first place."
"You think you might have some more information on Jerome in one of your notebooks?" Hae-ri asked.
"It's possible. I'd have to go through them to check. There are a lot of them, though. It might take awhile."
"Hae-ri and I could help," Tae-ung suggested. "If you don't mind us reading your stuff."
"I don't mind," Dal-geon said. "It's not like I use them as diaries, or anything. They're just full of notes. They might be kind of hard for you to make sense of in some places, though. A lot of times I end up writing them in kind of a stream of consciousness state. I'm afraid they may border on the rambling and incoherent sometimes."
"Do you want me to go up to the attic and get them?" Tae-ung asked.
"How are you going to know how to find them?" Dal-geon asked him with a lopsided grin.
"They're under the third floorboard from the far wall," Tae-ung said.
"Ne, maja," Dal-geon said, looking disconcerted. "How did you figure that out?"
"Timjangnim has sent me up to get you a couple of times when you were up there pacing like a lunatic. The third floorboard creaks more than the others."
"Well played, Hook," Dal-geon said, though he appeared rather disgruntled that his secret hiding place had been so easily discovered. "Nicely deduced. You should think about becoming a detective or something."
"Whatever. Do you want me to go get them, or not?"
Dal-geon gestured his assent. "Go ahead. Looks like I'll have to find another secret hiding place anyway, so I suppose it can't do any harm to let you clear them out from the old one."
Tae-ung left and returned a few minutes later with an armful of leather bound notebooks. He set them down on his desk, dividing them into three roughly even piles.
Hae-ri looked at the piles in dismay. "Aish, Dal-geonssi, have you been secretly writing a novel about Edward Park? There have to be a dozen of these things."
"No, I'll leave the secret writing of mystery novels to our literary friend here," he answered, gesturing to Tae-ung. No doubt this was revenge for Tae-ung discovering his hiding place.
Hae-ri paused and looked at Tae-ung . "Jinjja?"
"Aniyo," Tae-ung said. "Can we please focus?"
Hae-ri picked up the first notebook in the stack nearest her, feeling curiously reluctant to open it. She didn't care what Dal-geon said, the idea of reading these notebooks felt like a terribly intimate intrusion into his private thoughts. Also, knowing what she did about Dal-geon's feelings on revenge and how much time he devoted to thinking about Edward Park in general, she found she was not eager to face further evidence of his obsession.
Tae-ung appeared to have no such compunctions. He flipped open the first notebook in the pile nearest him and started reading.
Dal-geon , as usual, seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. "Don't worry, Hae-rissi, I saved all my particularly murderous ramblings for that notebook over there," he said cheerfully, pointing to one at the bottom of the stack furthest from her.
"What a relief," she said dryly. She gingerly opened the notebook in her hands. She was relieved to find that this particular notebook seemed to contain mostly lists of names and addresses. After reading through them, she realized she recognized many of them as the names of witnesses and suspects they'd interviewed in the course of their investigations in the past months. He really was suspicious of everyone. Occasionally there were questions scribbled in the margins, or theories written out. She sat down absently at Se-hun's desk, absorbed despite herself. However mundane reading Dal-geon's nearly endless compilations of lists may have seemed, she found that the way in which he organized and prioritized them gave her an unexpected glimpse into the inner workings of his mind. The sections with the longer musings gave her even more insight into his thought processes. Despite what he'd said about having a tendency to ramble, she found that she could follow the threads of his thoughts easily. With few exceptions, she found his writings remarkably clear and well-ordered. His intuitive leaps were easier to follow when he outlined the seemingly disparate steps between them in writing. She also found several doodles and sketches interspersed throughout the pages.
She'd never known that Dal-geon could draw. He was a decent artist, though she didn't know why she should be surprised by this fact. Dal-geon always seemed to be annoyingly good at anything he put his mind to, and she'd always known he knew a lot about art. Hae-ri paused when she came across a full page sketch of a young boy who she recognized as his nephew, Hoon. The picture showed the little boy in the rain, standing in a puddle in his bare feet, damp hair, his eyes sparkling with joy. His cheeks dimpled as he reached out his arms towards the unseen artist in the clear expectation that he would pick him up and spin him in the rain. Hae-ri stared at the drawing for a long time, a lump the size of Seoul forming in her throat. God, it was heartbreaking.
Her heart went out to Dal-geon. It was heartbreaking, but at the same time, she was glad to see evidence that he occasionally allowed himself to indulge in what was clearly a happy memory. It was a relief to her to know that he could remember some of the good times with his nephew without the taint of Edward Park darkening all his memories. She ached for his loss-the loss of moments like this one, and the promise of more like it. Sometimes she thought she'd give damn near anything to be able to give that back to him.
She stared at the picture a few minutes more, finally forcing herself to turn the page because she knew she was going to start crying if she kept looking at it, and she didn't want Dal-geon and Tae-ung to see.
She flipped through a few more pages and came across a particularly long section in which Dal-geon attempted to deconstruct the "He is ray" clue that Jeong Gook-pyo had left for them. He'd written out about a hundred variations of how the sentence might have ended, but she could tell he'd reached no meaningful conclusions. The sense of his frustration was palpable, and she found herself wanting to reach through the pages back to the time when he'd written them to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, despite the fact that the man himself was sitting not fifteen feet from her, looking perfectly composed as he leafed through another of his own notebooks.
Then she came across something completely unfamiliar to her. It was a poem, titled simply, 'The Rose.' She read through it twice, but even after reading it a second time, she had no clue how it might relate to the Edward Park case. She definitely didn't remember it from any of their investigations. Some of the stuff in the notebook was a bit obscure, but usually after a bit of thought, she could figure out how it might have connected to something Dal-geon might have been thinking about at the time when he'd written it. This poem was totally unrecognizable to her. Of course, she was no great poetry lover, but she had gone to college, after all, and she thought if it had been a really famous poem, it would have seemed at least a little familiar to her.
"Ya Dal-geonssi," she called over to him. "What's this?"
"Mwo?" Dal-geon said, idly turning a page in the notebook he was reading.
"This poem."
"What poem?" Dal-geon said distractedly.
Hae-ri looked back at the title. "It's called 'The Rose.'"
Tae-ung looked sharply at Dal-geon. Dal-geon, for his part, grew very still.
"'The Rose,' did you say?" Tae-ung asked her, his eyes still on Dal-geon.
"Ne. I don't recognize it, do you?"
"I've never heard of it before," Tae-ung said. "But I think I have a pretty good idea who the author is." For some reason, this comment caused Dal-geon to glare at him.
Hae-ri frowned. "You do? Is it a Shakespeare poem? Does it have something to do with that poem Edward Park quoted to Cha Dal-geon when he held him hostage?"
"Nope, not Shakespeare's," Tae-ung said, smirking. "I'm pretty sure this is a lesser known writer. Not too many people are familiar with his work. What kind of poem is it?"
Hae-ri looked over it again. "A sonnet, I think. Fourteen lines, ends in a rhyming couplet?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely a sonnet," Tae-ung said. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely for reasons she couldn't fathom. Who knew Tae-ung was such a poetry fan? He leaned back in his chair. "Why don't you read it to us?" he suggested to Hae-ri with another sidelong glance at Dal-geon.
Dal-geon jumped up from the couch and hurried over to stand next to her, looking as though he intended to snatch the notebook out of her hand at any moment. "Aish. That's not necessary."
Tae-ung raised his eyebrows at him. "Weh? Unless there's some particular reason you don't want Hae-ri to read the poem?" he challenged him.
Dal-geon opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
"That's what I thought," Tae-ung said, looking satisfied.
Hae-ri looked back and forth between them uncertainly. She could tell she was missing something, but she had no idea what it was.
"Go on, Timjangnim," Tae-ung said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers together behind his head. "I want to hear how the author handled the challenges of iambic pentameter."
Dal-geon cringed and closed his eyes, but made no objection.
Shrugging, she obliged Tae-ung and read the poem aloud.
"Not bad," Tae-ung commented when she was finished. "The author spends a lot of time talking about the creature's sly wit and knowing eyes for a poem that's supposed to be about a rose, but overall it wasn't as terrible as I was expecting."
"Well, I think it's pretty," Hae-ri said. "It's kind of a weird writing, I guess, but it's kind of nice how the writer takes a rose and makes it sound like something extremely peculiar."
"Roses aren't ordinary," Dal-geon said, bristling with indignation. "it has a power to convey profound human emotions and thoughts the way no other things can. Whenever your feelings are too intense for words - be it love, grief, happiness, or gratitude - it can be express through the gift of roses." He caught himself, and coughed. "They're very unjustly overlooked."
Tae-ung nodded. "Definitely underrated analogy."
Hae-ri looked at them as though they were crazy, but neither of them seemed to think they'd said anything the least bit odd. She thought about the poem again. The beauty of the rose stood out. It was a lovely poem, really, but it was kind of sad, too. The author wrote about the rose like it was his dearest friend-more like a treasured companion than just a flower. Yet despite his obvious admiration for the rose, something was holding him back from being as close to it as he longed to be. There was a hopeful note at the end, though, like maybe someday he would be able to reach out to the rose the way he wanted to.
"So what's the deal? Why'd you copy this poem into your notebook?" she asked Dal-geon. "If it's not by Shakespeare, does it have some other connection to Edward Park?"
Tae-ung answered before Dal-geon could. "The poem doesn't have anything to do with Edward Park."
She frowned at him. "How do you know?"
"The same way I know he didn't copy it out," he said, nodding to Dal-geon.
"What do you mean?" Hae-ri said, puzzled. "It's right there in his handwriting."
"Yeah, but he didn't copy it from a book or anything."
"Then where did it come from?"
Tae-ung looked unfazed by her obtuseness. "He wrote it."
Hae-ri looked at Dal-geon in surprise. "You wrote this?"
Dal-geon looked like he was wishing the ground would open up and swallow him, which was an expression she'd never seen on him before. "Aish. Ne. I wrote it."
"It's good," she told him. "I had no idea you ever wrote poetry."
He cleared his throat. "Ah, well, you know. I, uh, dabble, on occasion."
Hae-ri looked at Tae-ung. "That doesn't explain how you knew Dal-geon wrote the poem."
"Yes, how did you know?" Dal-geon asked curiously.
Tae-ung rolled his eyes. "'The Rose?' It's kind of an obvious metaphor, don't you think?"
Hae-ri frowned. "A metaphor for what? What is the poem about?"
Dal-geon shot Tae-ung a warning glance, but the latter ignored it. "The poem's about you," he informed her.
"About me?" Hae-ri said, startled. "What do you mean, it's about me?"
"I mean, it's about you. You're the subject of the poem," Tae-ung said.
She shook her head. "No. It can't be about me."
"Except it is," Tae-ung said.
She attempted a smile that didn't quite take. "This is a joke. You guys are playing a joke on me, right?"
"'Eopso," Tae-ung replied.
"Cha Dal-geon?" she said uncertainly.
Dal-geon met her eyes hopelessly. "He's right, Hae-rissi," he said, looking nearly as uncomfortable as she felt. "The poem's about you."
She stared at him. "You wrote a poem about me?"
"Ne."
"Waeyo?"
He shrugged helplessly. "What can I say? Even I get tired of my own obsessive thoughts, on occasion. Sometimes in the middle of the night when I can't sleep and can't bear to think any more about my perpetual guilt and continued failure, I turn my thoughts to pleasanter fare."
She swallowed. "And I'm... that?"
He attempted a semblance of his usual light-hearted air. "Certainly. You're a very attractive woman, Hae-ri Go, and I spend more time with you than anyone else on the planet. Who else am I going to write poetry about?"
Hae-ri could think of a few names that came to mind, but she was too dumbfounded to come up with an intelligible response.
He smiled at her a little ironically. "I told you you were sonnet-worthy."
Hae-ri turned so red she was sure she could have powered a fleet of solar-powered cars with the heat coming off her face. "Well, gomawoyo," she said awkwardly. "It's a nice poem."
"You really liked it?" he double-checked.
She looked back at him. "Ne, Dal-geonssi. I really liked it."
He seemed pleased by this. "Tahaengida."
He went back to his couch, settling in and looking like the picture of composure once again.
Dal-geon and Tae-ung tossed several ideas back and forth about how various tidbits from Dal-geon's notebooks might be relevant to their current investigation over the course of the afternoon. Hae-ri listened to them with half an ear, but for her part, she couldn't face looking through any more of Dal-geon's notebooks after the experience of reading the first one, so after a few minutes, she retreated to her office and buried herself in research on the life of Min Jae-sik for the rest of the day.
Not before she had committed a certain poem to her own memory palace, however.