The blow came from behind, glancing off the side of his head with such force that Joon wondered if he might be dying. He’d heard her grunt and started to turn when it landed, otherwise he might have taken the blow full on his skull.

Surprised, he leaped to one side as the favourite’s form flew by him and slammed into the wall. Other than her underwear, she wore only four strips of cloth, one tied to each wrist and one on each ankle.

He knew immediately what had happened. She’d pulled herself off the gurney and come at him like a plucked goose. And she’d hit him on the head with his own hammer, the one with a fibreglass head that he never used but brought in the interest of being prepared for every eventuality.

She spun around; hammer still in hand, eyes fired like stars.

She’d smeared more of her makeup! “What are you doing?” he demanded.

The favourite swung again, but Joon blocked her arm with his own. The hammer hit her own leg and she cried into her tape.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, angry now. “I had you nearly perfect and you’re messing this all up! Stop this!” He snatched the hammer from her hands and tossed it into the corner. “You’re acting like a child.”

She sagged against the wall, sobbing under the influence of drugs and hopelessness. A glance back at the gurney and he saw the fingernail clippers on the mattress. He’d been careless. He deserved the extra work she was forcing upon him.

Krystal slipped down to her seat, pulling the extension cord free, then she drew quiet. It was amazing that she’d managed an escape attempt despite being drugged. None of the others had tried to resist like this. Perhaps that was why she was so luckily chosen. She was a strong one, physically and mentally, even if she was a bit of an idiot. The tough, stubborn type of woman, blessed also with true beauty.

Joon hauled her up, carried her to the gurney, and flopped her face down. He would drill her now, apply the glue to her back, and place her on the wall. Then he would redo her makeup as she gave up her ghost and became his bride.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I have caused a real mess.

Joon had decided to use the new electric drill he’d bought for this occasion. He wanted to see how it compared with his previous choices.  He plugged the orange extension cord back into the wall, picked up the drill and approached Krystal, God’s favourite.

-------------------------------------------------------

Min Ho took the outdoor stairs two at a time, checked to see the police cars pulling in behind his, and swung onto the landing. Brass numbers above the door: 7289. A stained panel door with a one-foot square beveled glass panel at eye level. The tenants had their own locks, he’d checked already. Management didn’t have access. The only way in was to break down the door.

Shoot out the deadbolt.

He slipped out his gun, chambered a round, and approached the door on the balls of his feet. Shoes padded up the stairs behind him.

He  swung around, gun in both hands trained on the deadbolt, fighting the urge to go in on his own now because every second felt like an hour and Krystal might have seconds or minutes but not hours. Now. Now!

He waited. The two uniformed police were by his side in seven seconds, side arms ready. They’d been briefed, and if they hadn’t he didn’t have time to do it now.

He nodded once, pressed the muzzle close to the wood directly in line with the deadbolt, and pulled the trigger.

Boom!

The gun bucked hard and he threw his full weight into the door. But the door was stronger than one deadbolt and he didn’t break through on the first attempt.

The Bride Killer was now aware that someone was trying to shoot their way in. He was setting up for a shot in the hall or climbing out the back window where the two other cops would pick him up. Or he had something else up his sleeve.

The thoughts only pushed his sense of urgency. He pulled back and pulled the trigger four more times, obliterating the lock, the bolt. This time a single kick swung the door in silently on well-oiled hinges.

Min ho went in with his weapon extended. Chips from the backside of the door lay scattered on the floor. Dust filled the air from the splintered wood.

Nothing else was out of place. The tan couch, the large-screen Samsung television, the ornate table lamps, the walls with the rest of the paintings – all undisturbed, unmarked.

No sign of the killer.

He ran to the hall on his left, hesitated one second against the wall, then jabbed his head around the corner. Nothing but hall. It was a two-bedroom apartment, she’d told him once. Both rooms down this hall.

Not a sound. No sign of any disturbance at all. What if he was wrong? What if Yoo bi’s jack in the whole was just a big mistake and Shin Hye had sent him on a wild-goose chase?

He stepped around the corner and ran down the hall. The doors to both bedrooms were open. He knew then… He knew but he could not say it or even think it. Something was wrong.

The first room on his left looked like a bedroom. Empty. He ran past, down the hall, into the room at the end. The shades were pulled up and bright light illuminated a queen-size bed with a brown comforter and matching lamps on the nightstands.

Krystal was not in her home.

The blow was so unexpected that he didn’t react. They had been wrong. They had come to the wrong place. Krystal…

Krystal would pay the price.

“Sir!”

He spun at the sound of the officer’s voice, calling from back down the hall.

“Sir, I think you want to see this.”

He pushed past one officer who’d followed him down the hall and saw that his partner had turned the light on in the first room.

“What is it?”

The room was decorated in rich purples and greens, larger than the one at the end. At its centre was a king-size bed neatly dressed in a silk comforter with six or seven decorative pillows and two beautiful chiffon lamps. This was the master. Krystal’s room.

The officer was looking at an eight-and-a-half-by-eleven sheet of paper folded in half and set atop one of the silk pillows. It was addressed with red ink and it read, MR. ROMEO.

The killer. He’d been here. Which meant that Yoo Bi was right, this was the jack in the whole. A note from the killer addressed to Mr.Romeo. To me.

“Call Dong il Sunbae at my office. Get a forensics team out here immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

He grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and used it to pick up the note, then opened it gingerly to the Bride Killer’s familiar handwriting:

The jack is in the whole, but today the jack is the joker and he’s got a smile. So sorry, Romeo, but the sun has come and things are looking bright. I have taken God’s favourite back to him. He waits for his bride. You’ll have to find your own.

P.S. We are at 45 Gwanak-ro, Gwanak-gu, Seoul

He stared at the words trying to think past the voices screaming in his mind. The killer had outwitted them, played them in a fixed game. Krystal was gone. Gone!

But that wasn’t true… No,