chapter five

Matthew barely looked up when the door to the office opened. “I thought you went home?”

“And miss any updates? No thank you.” Jae set down a mug of coffee next to Matthew, and he took a sip from his own. “Also Jiwoo told me to keep a tab on you. She doesn’t think it’s right that you’re back on the case.”

“ what she thinks,” Matthew said, tossing the completed file onto his desk and grabbing a new one. “I’m the best one to be on this case. Who is this Jiwoo anyway?”

Jae sat down on Matthew’s desk, drumming his fingers against his mug. “I believe she was some important person in another station . . . somewhere. But I could be wrong,” he added, taking another sip of coffee.

“That was helpful, truly. Thank you, Jae, for all of that.”

“Okay, fine,” Jae sighed, setting his mug down. “She was in another station, I forget where, and she used to work in a similar special investigations unit. I think theirs saw more violence, maybe ‘cause of the area?” He shrugged. “But they transferred her here initially once you were pulled off the case, since they thought she’d have comparable experience with the types of crimes . . . but turns out it was J.Seph-related so they had to put you back on anyway.”

“So why’s she not, you know, back there?” Matthew asked, gesturing with his pen.

Jae looked reluctant to answer. “We . . . we’ll need a backup for wh—if you snap.”

Matthew sighed, forcing down his initial response of frustration. It was a logical precaution, and even he wanted nothing more than the investigation to succeed and for Somin to be back. For everything to be back to the way it was.

He had been right; they should never have gone to Hongbin’s that night.

Eventually Jae had forced Matthew to head back home; though Matthew wanted to do nothing more than continue drowning himself in mindless busy work, Jae would hear none of it.

“You’re actually so useless right now,” he’d said, reflexively ducking when Matthew feinted throwing one of the files at him. “Here’s some advice you should take seriously because it’s coming from me and I know better—just sleep on it, it’s been a long day.”

The apartment seemed colder than it did when he left for work that morning, most likely because Youngji and Hongbin had left as soon as he had gotten the call from the director. Matthew tossed his laptop bag onto the counter as he walked in, intending to sleep like Jae had suggested.

Then again, he never usually listened to Jae’s suggestions, as well intentioned as they were.

He didn’t know how long he had been going through all the news articles on his laptop, files be damned, searching for any hint of a new development. It was easy to get lost in the process of clicking the next recommended link, and pretty soon, enveloped in the deafening silence of the apartment, Matthew felt himself doing exactly what he feared—breaking down.

It was quite lucky that the phone on the counter began ringing then to distract him, an unfamiliar ringtone filling up the otherwise silent apartment. Brow furrowed, Matthew got up from the couch to check who could be calling.

Reaching the counter, he realized that it actually wasn’t his phone that was ringing—it was a vaguely familiar phone, and the caller ID was “Yeobo” followed by a heart emoticon. Matthew had an idea of whose phone it could be when he answered.

He didn’t even get a chance to say hello, because the person on the other end had already started talking. “Now you get home? I thought my phone was gonna die before you—wait, what were you even doing till now? I thought you were off from work for a while?”

Matthew laughed. “Relax, Youngji. Something just came up . . . anyway, should I drop off your phone?”

Youngji sighed. “How insensitive do you think I am? It’s almost midnight, so I’ll just pick it up tomorrow.”

“That’s a long trip for just your phone . . . I’ll be heading to work anyway, I can just—”

“Really, it’s fine! Besides, I have a convention to head to tomorrow, so I’ll have to travel anyway,” Youngji said. “I can stop by the station on the way.”

Matthew could have just said good-bye after that, but he suddenly felt the need for some kind of conversation. Going back to the silence of the apartment didn’t exactly seem ideal. “A convention?” he asked, trying to continue the conversation.

Youngji didn’t seem to notice Matthew’s delay, and if she did then she went along with it. “Yeah, just a medical thing at Daejung Offices. They’ve developed a few new drugs, so tomorrow is kind of like a medical keynote, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, I think I get it.” Matthew glanced at the clock again. “Anyway, it’s getting late, I should let you sleep before the convention,” he said, trying to keep the reluctance out of his voice.

“Right,” Youngji said with a light laugh. “But remember to call, okay? Or I’ll have to surprise you again with dinner.”

“I wouldn’t complain . . .”

“I think I’m too nice. Really, call, okay?”

“I’ll try. Bye, Youngji.”

And with that, the apartment was back into an uncomfortable silence.

Kevin didn’t show up at the office on time like everyone else the next morning, but when he did he came with news. “Another body, this time in Daejung Offices.”

“Daejung Offices,” Matthew repeated. He felt like he should be remembering something important about those offices, but he had slept too little and woken up too early to recall much more than the signature full glass exterior. “Aren’t those . . . you can book meeting rooms there, right?”

Kevin nodded. “He was found dead in one of ‘em. They didn’t say anything but, well—” He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I think it was unusual. I dunno, you have to see it to understand.”

And when they entered the crime scene, a small room that would fit less than twenty people comfortably, Matthew definitely understood.

Everything was left pristine, untouched, as if waiting for the investigation to commence without hindrance. All the evidence was laid out for them to pick out at their convenience, including the glass and plate that the victim had last used. None of it looked liked it had been tampered with.

Playing a game.

This was no accident, Matthew realized with a sinking feeling. There was something important here, some kind of clue that would lead to some kind of conclusion that may or may not be important.

As they continued taking in the scene, someone else entered the room. It was a voice that Matthew had only heard a few times before but recognized immediately.

“Jiwoo,” said Jae, greeting her with a small nod.

She only barely acknowledged both of them, her eyes zeroing in on the lifeless body of the victim still in his last position. “Anything on the cause of death?” she asked.

Jae shrugged, while Matthew chose to remain silent. Their group dynamics were thrown out of balance with the addition of Jiwoo, so he chose to just observe rather than interact for the time being.

After the medical examiner—who unfortunately was not Hongbin—was finished with the body, he walked over to where the three special officers were standing. “Any poisoning will be determined with certainty through analysis of the sample and the body . . . other than that, there’s nothing to particularly note about this scene. The body will probably be handed over to a forensic toxicologist for further analysis.” With that he took his exit, leaving the three officers and a few other police at the scene.

“Did we ID him yet?” Matthew asked, walking closer to the body. It had probably been a few hours at most since he died, so there was no strange stench quite yet, but he was paler than natural, and Matthew knew that he would be colder to the touch than was normal for a human. Rigor mortis would be setting in soon if it had not already, but Matthew didn’t want to touch the body to find out.

“Don’t think so, but it should be pretty obvious he’s one of them, right?” Jae said.

Jiwoo looked at the body again. “Sangchul Medical?”

“Or, at the least, one of J.Seph’s,” Jae said. “Right?”

Matthew nodded, but his uneasiness was becoming too hard to ignore. “Probably . . .” he said, letting his voice trail off, and Jae recognized the tone.

Pushing his oversized glasses a bit higher on his nose, he looked directly at Matthew. “Spill.”

Matthew had to think for a second to put it into words. “It’s too . . . convenient. All the clues—they’re just here, left for us to find and analyze.”

After a few beats of silence, Jae spoke up. “Man,” he said, “I thought I was the only one. This whole scene is just weird.”

And Matthew understood the feeling—they had been expecting to search for clues, not find them served on a silver platter. Only Jiwoo seemed to be relatively unfazed by the circumstances.

“That means either we take all this evidence with a grain of salt, or we analyze every little detail that’s been left for us.” She turned to Matthew, raising her eyebrows. “What do you think? Knowing J.Seph.”

Knowing J.Seph?

There was no knowing J.Seph, what with his eccentricity and tendency to stay off the radar. Rather than his actions drawing attention, like it was with most criminals, it was merely his unspoken presence behind the scenes that drew others to him, from corporations like Sangchul Medical to investigators like Matthew. This kidnapping incident was screaming high profile for J.Seph, and Matthew knew there had to be more of a motivation than simply ‘silencing a witness’ as the department was inclined to believe.

Matthew ran a hand through his hair, holding back a sigh. There had to be something that could be found from the scene, and it wouldn’t hurt to analyze everything like Jiwoo suggested.

“Guess we could start by taking stuff in to fingerprint, then.”

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Somin felt strangely disconnected from everything around her as she was ushered back into the car, back to the penthouse. She didn’t remember changing out of her dress, though she did remember throwing it to the farthest side of the room, unable to stand the sight of it anymore. All she could remember was the face—the face of the man as he realized he couldn’t breath anymore, as he realized he was dying.

As he looked to Taehyung—no, as he looked to J.Seph—and realized, in his dying moments, what had happened.

Somin had been too shocked to react then and there, but now she was beginning to feel a wave of nausea.

The door to the room opened, and though she didn’t turn to see, there was no mistaking whom it could be. She moved away, as far as she could, pressing herself into the corner of the room the opposite to the door. It was a futile move; she was still stuck in a penthouse with him—hell, now in the same room with him—and there was no way around that.

She had watched the man’s life drain away slowly, frozen in spot and unable to move, the rest of the guests filing away as if they’d seen nothing.

Somin almost screamed when she heard J.Seph approaching. This was too much, too real, too—

“Don’t,” he said quietly, and though Somin wanted nothing more than to continue screaming, to lash out at him and everyone else, her terror silenced her. “It’s been a long day, and I don’t want to deal with that.”

A long day. Of course. She was supposed to sympathize when he—he had made her—

Somin took a shuddering breath, fighting to keep the man’s face out of her thoughts, fighting to keep the entire event from that evening out of her thoughts. “Why . . . why m-me?” she asked, stuttering.

“Why you?” J.Seph repeated, and when Somin dared to spare him a glance she saw a small smile present on his face. She looked away, avoiding his amused gaze. “You barely did anything, Somin.”

“I did e-every—I did everything.”

She had killed him.

“You gave him a glass of water.”

Somin shook her head. She had killed him.

“Did you know what was in that glass?” he asked, and now he was standing very close, too close for comfort.

Somin didn’t answer. She had killed him, and she was guilty.

“I don’t think so. In fact, I’d say that I was the one that did everything . . . you were simply a pawn. Needed to open the game, needed for the first move, but insignificant in the grand scheme of things.”

She tried to move away, but the wall prevented her from being able to back up any farther. He was much too close now, his face mere centimeters from hers as he leaned down to her height. She lifted a hand, though she wasn’t sure what she was going to do—push him away? Hit him?

Before Somin could do anything, he grabbed her lifted hand by the wrist and pinned it against the wall next to her head. Her eyes darted up to his face and then to her hand. Her breathing picked up, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she lifted up her other hand and tried to push him away.

It was completely ineffective.

“You’re getting too worked up,” J.Seph said, his voice too close to her. “You need to relax.”

She had closed her eyes, she realized, and her eyes snapped open when she felt his hand on her face. It reminded her of that first day, when he had questioned her about Matthew—

His fingers ghosted down the side of her face, and he pushed one of the strands of hair behind her ear. She flinched away, and his eyes narrowed. “You’ve been left alone for too long,” he said slowly.

Somin’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest at the rate it was going. There was a strange tingling sensation in the wrist he was holding against the wall, like it was about to go numb, and she felt lightheaded. The room was darkening, and J.Seph was too close, and she couldn’t breathe.

“Maybe I will need to break you in . . . it would help in breaking both of you down.”

She felt the room start tilting from one side to the other, and then she out.

whoa, all your support makes me so happy, and this story is getting so much more recognition than i expected, thank you all!

warning for the next chapter: please remember, this story is not for the faint of heart ...