A few days later Sung-min found himself sitting inside the very same television studio. However, his reasons for being there had nothing to do with nostalgia: he was there on a matter of business.

Sung-min sat uncomfortably in the office chair. Kwon Boa was standing, facing the window so that that small rays of afternoon light made patterns on her face. She wore a blank expression; her distress was deftly hidden.

“I heard there was a shooting incident that you were involved in,” she said calmly and Sung-min wriggled in his seat.

“I’ve been suspended,” Sung-min replied. “If that’s what you wanted to know.”

“I’m very sorry. That’s awful news.” She paused for a moment. “I hope this won’t seem too forward of me, but I have something of a problem and I thought you might be able to help me.”

Kwon Boa rarely ever asked for help. Unconsciously Sung-min puffed his cheeks, a habit of his whenever he was nervous.

“I will try to help as much as I can.”

She nodded and produced a small white envelope from the top drawer of her desk. She passed it over and said, “I have been receiving these on a regular basis. At first I ignored them. I figured that the new CEO of a major television network is bound to have a few sceptics trying to test her strength, so I did my best not to pay them any notice.”

Sung-min opened the envelope and read the contents carefully. It was a letter, written in a stark and messy hand, blatantly asking for a sum of money to be deposited in a certain place at a certain time. The letter was signed with “The Ghost.”

Sung-min looked back and forth between Boa and the letter in his hand. “This seems like a prank,” he told her.

Boa sighed. “I suspected so too, but when I ignored the request I suffered his promised consequences. The lighting system in one of the main studios was completely sabotaged. He promised that something worse would happen on the next occasion. I had no choice but to pay him. But I will not allow this continue! If anyone thinks that just because I am a woman I can be taken for a fool, they are very wrong. What's more insidious is that whoever is sending these letters is likely a member of my own staff. Who else would have access to the lighting control system? This is where you come in.”

Sung-min raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I need you to do an undercover investigation, but it needs to be strictly off the record. I can't have my employees thinking that I don't trust them.”

“I’ll see what I can find,” Sung-min replied hopefully, although he was not feeling confident.

“There’s something else. He doesn’t always ask for money. Sometimes he asks for changes to be made to various programs, and even demands which programs should be aired at which times. It’s infuriating really.”

There was a knock at the door and Boa called for them to enter. Her personal assistant, a thin, creepy looking man appeared at the doorway and stood at attention.

“Hyuk-jae, please make sure that the officer here has a security pass.” He left immediately and Boa returned to Sung-min.

“This so called ghost has been making requests that are somewhat beneficial to one of my producers. I can't help but be suspicious about this. His name is Cho Kyu-hyun. Please be sure to give him particular attention.”

Sung-min stood up this time and Boa took him by the hands. “Thank you so much for your help, you have always been such a good friend to me.”

Sung-min was about to say something to the effect that he was a terrible police officer and couldn't find a name in a phone book let alone a ghost, but Boa smiled her bright smile and all he could do was agree and promise to do his best. They said goodbye and Sung-min returned to the foyer where Hyuk-jae was waiting with his security pass.

Hyuk-jae placed the security pass over Sung-min's head like someone who was awarding a medal for bravery.

“You are to tell people that you are a junior producer,” he said simply, to which Sung-min gave him a worried look.

“But I don’t know anything about television! What am I supposed to do?”

“Just don’t look suspicious,” he replied and Sung-min lamented over how useless that advice was. This was bound to be a difficult task, but at least it was better than sitting around the house moping all day.

Hyuk-jae gave him a short tour of the studio. “This is where we shoot Singing Star 2,” he explained as they entered a large auditorium. Have you ever seen the show?"

“I have actually. I saw an episode last week.”

Hyuk-jae brought his voice down to a whisper. “The ghost was very interested in this program. We originally did not plan on having the second series, but he demanded that it go forward. Whoever, or whatever this ghost is, he apparently has a fondness for musical entertainment.”

Sung-min looked around the auditorium but saw nothing suspicious or ghostly. But this was the place that he had seen his old friend singing so ethereally a couple of nights ago at the lonely noodle bar. It was haunted to him for other reasons.

It did not take long for Hyuk-jae to abandon the tour, leaving Sung-min alone to fend for himself in the bleak corridors of the television studio. After some wandering, he accidentally stumbled in on a tea room where two men were sitting head to head in quiet conversation. Sung-min recognised one of them: he was a television star, the host of Singing Star 2 no less. He was a large man in real life, and his face was painted with a heavy layer of make-up which looked somewhat ghoulish under the fluorescent lights of the tea room. Both men looked up as Sung-min entered.

“Who are you?” the host asked. He had a big, booming voice.

“Oh, I am a, ah, junior producer.” They both looked incredulous, so Sung-min quickly added, “It’s my first day.”

“Of course, of course,” the big man said, flapping his arms around. “Some new intern hey?”

“What’s your name?” the other man asked. He was an ordinary looking fellow, lanky and not very old.

“I’m Lee Sung-min,” Sung-min automatically replied, immediately regretting having given his real name.

“No one’s told me about you before,” the lanky man said, shrugging. “But don’t worry kid, you can stick by me and you’ll be fine. My name is Cho Kyu-hyun by the way. I am the producer of Singing Star.”

“Of course,” Sung-min replied, some strength returning to his voice at the sound of that familiar name. He did not like the way this man had addressed him as kid, since he didn’t seem to be much older Sung-min himself, if he was at all.

“And I am Shin Dong-hee,” the big man said. “I am the star of the show.”

“We call him Shin-dong, the baby genius,” Kyu-hyun said and they both laughed. Sung-min laughed too, hoping that he could blend himself into the conversation.

“I heard that the studio has had some trouble with the lighting system recently,” he brought up casually as they resumed.

Kyu-hyun gave Sung-min a direct and suspicious glance. Shin-dong his chin thoughtfully. “Ah, stories they do travel fast. So Sung-min, tell us, do you believe in ghosts?”

“No,” he replied, then quickly added, “At least I’ve never seen one before. Is there a ghost here?”

Shin-dong and Kyu-hyun exchanged crooked smiles. “So you haven’t heard the story of the studio’s ghost? Mr Cho, tell him the story. You always tell it so well.”

Kyu-hyun cleared his throat and arched his fingers in a display of mock drama. “Many years ago there was a television studio in this same spot, but it was destroyed in a great fire. After the site was cleared, a new studio was built, the one we are in right now. One of the big tv stars of the old times was said to have died in the fire and they say his ghost haunts the studio to this day. He is said to have the appearance of a tall man, with long hair and is only ever seen wearing a white surgical mask.”

Sung-min raised an eyebrow. “Really? Who says this?”

Kyu-hyun shrugged. “The kids who hang around the street. I don't know. It's a load of rubbish anyway, there are no ghosts.”

The topic of conversation quickly switched away from the ghost, and Sung-min didn’t get a chance to ask any more about it. Before long, his two companions became preoccupied with their own work and Sung-min was left to wander the corridors again. At least he had made some progress: he had met the suspicious Cho Kyu-hyun and had heard a little more about this so called ghost. Now he only hoped that he could draw together some conclusive evidence before his disguise wore too thin.