AUTHOR'S NOTE: OKAY! Here we go! New story time :)  I know I've literally just finished Our World is Blood (go read if ya haven't already!) but I love writing and I've written a few chapters of this already soooo...why not give you guys something to read? This will be the longest author's note of the whole story just so I can clear a couple things up first.

This is gonna be a lot more comedy-based than basically anything I've done - not exactly fluff, but not dark or depressing either. I apologise in advance if my writing style is bad for comedy, or if my humour is niche and terrible, but that's just how it goes lol :)

Anyway, please keep up the comments and discussions and stuff - the support I got for my last story was downright incredible and I'd love to hear your guys' thoughts again. This chapter is just gonna set up some stuff before we get into the meat of the story but hey, everything's gotta start somewhere.

Last thing: Go check out the playlist!!! I made it specifically with the 80s-trippy-hippie aesthetic in mind, soooo...yeah.

Enjoy :) 

<3

1

Thievery Never Pays, Until It Does

It was just after eleven when Seulgi got the call and it was fifteen minutes later when she rolled over and picked up her phone and answered.

‘Hello?’

‘Six missed calls, Seulgi.’

‘Wheein?’

‘Who else would it be?’ said Wheein.

‘Why are you calling me at-’ she shifted the phone from her ear and looked at it and winced in the low screenlight, 'eleven sixteen? I was asleep.’

‘I’ll tell you when you get down here.’

‘Where? The station?’

‘No. The Leeum.’

‘The what?’

‘The Leeum.’

‘I can’t hear you properly.’

‘Leeum.’

‘Museum?’

‘Yes, the museum.’

‘No, which museum?’

‘The Leeum.’

‘Which museum is The Museum?’

‘I’m at the Leeum Museum.’

‘Oh. Why are you there?’

‘I think you need to see this. In fact, I know you need to see this. Get dressed. And be quick.’

‘Are you going to tell me why?’ Seulgi said.

‘Not before you get down here.’

‘Not even a clue?’

‘Get dressed, Seulgi.’

‘Alright. Alright. I’ll be there in half an hour.’

‘You’ll be fired in half an hour if you’re not here in fifteen minutes.’

‘I don’t even know what that means.’

‘Just get down here,’ Wheein said. ‘And bring something to drink.’

When Wheein had hung up she sat there looking at the ceiling and acclimating herself to this distant darkness and stretching as if to shake out the cold fatigue. She looked at her phone again. Six missed calls, eleven seventeen. Tick tock. Outside a dog was barking. She didn’t even have to ask. Didn’t even want to. She knew only that Wheein ringing her in the middle of the night was code for bad news. Bad , Wheein liked to say. This is some real bad , Seulgi, she’d say. She’d stand there with her hands on her hips like an old fogey and she’d run a hand through her hair and say: You know what? This is some bad , Seulgi. Bad juju.

She dressed and tied her hair back and went into the livingroom and opened the cabinet in the corner. The dog barking outside had been accompanied by a faint car alarm and everything seemed suddenly to be getting much louder. Inside the cabinet were a number of bottles – black labels, white labels, small labels, old labels half faded, labels doublewrapped and triplewrapped, labels just hanging about. And a few square whiskey glasses. There was one bottle that read VODKA and that was it. No brand, no name. Just vodka. She looked at it and took it out and held it up in the light. It didn’t look like vodka. It looked like something much fouler, wobbling viscous in the bottom like an elixir. She took the bottle and closed the cabinet and went out and started the car.

It was too cold and too dark and too late to put the roof down. And she’d be able to hear the dog. Too many dogs this time of year. What was it with dogs, anyway? Where did they even come from? She ran a hand over the woodvarnished dashboard and sat back and closed her eyes. The car was an old white Ferrari Testarossa with some two-hundred thousand miles to its name and having seen about a dozen owners but Seulgi didn’t mind. It still turned heads. It would turn heads anywhere. Whenever there were these fancy dinners she had to attend with the department or with the narc division or the homicide squad they’d go out and point at it and ask her about it and she’d smile and say: It’s just like Don Johnson’s. And they’d nod and go: Oh, yeah. Just like Don Johnson's. Uh huh. And when she was back inside they’d look at each other and make sure she was out of earshot and then they’d say: Who the is Don Johnson?

She pulled out into the driveway and off along the streets setting a pace. But not breaking the law, of course. Not Kang Seulgi. Everything was very quiet that time of night. The flickerlights in the building windows fell as tainted reflections in the rainwake but otherwise nothing moved. There were no dogs anymore nor anything at all. Nothing but the sound of that Flat-12 engine under the hood. And good God almighty, what an engine it was. She thought maybe there something you could learn of the world in Flat-12 engines. That their sound was the purest sound of the world, that hearty growl, that deep and guttural unaspirated grunt, the breakdown at the push of breaks, the building revs, just about everything you could hear was poetic in some sense of the word. Whoo whee, what a noise. Just like Don Johnson's did.

She turned in along Hannam in Itaewon not ten minutes later and parked the car in the lot outside the Leeum and got out and looked about. There were already eight or ten other police cars there and more officers than she could count and people come out from across the street either drunk or half blind watching them mutely. She opened the car door and the glovebox and grabbed the bottle and nodded to the officers as she crossed the lot toward the front of that enormous cube and smiled and went in. Nobody stopped her. They all talked among themselves and there was police tape everywhere fluttering in the soft wind.

The building itself was long and modern and very white. White walls, white ceilings. Even the reception looked like the room of some strange future clinic. She followed the officers like breadcrumbs and wherever they were, more tape followed. At the far end of a room in the back she found Wheein stood looking at an empty velvetpadded plinth. She had a hand on her chin as if deep in ponderous thought and she didn’t even see Seulgi arrive. There were three other officers in the room and they nodded and she nodded back and stood watching Wheein a moment but Wheein didn’t recognise her at all.

‘Wheein.’

‘Oh. . Seulgi.’

She turned. Her bobbed blonde hair was pale in the light and she looked almost confused. ‘What’s happened?’ Seulgi said. ‘Is it important?’

‘You think I would’ve called you if it wasn’t?’

‘Well?’

‘Look.’

‘I’m looking.’

‘It’s empty.’

Seulgi turned. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I can see that.’

‘That’s the problem.’

‘What’s the problem?’

‘It’s not supposed to be empty.’

‘Well. No. Naturally. Want some of this?’

‘What is it?’

She held up the bottle by the label.

‘No,’ Wheein said. ‘I’m good. I meant a proper drink.’

‘This is a proper drink.’

‘Like water. Or Gatorade.’

‘Well. You could’ve specified.’

‘Wasn’t time. Just make sure Hongki doesn’t catch you with that. Not on duty.’

‘I doubt he’d care.’

‘Want to risk it?’

Seulgi looked about. It was a small room with a single overhead light. The marble plinth lay within a glass box container and a neat square had been cut out of the right side like a doorway into that makeshift room. She put the bottle on the floor by the glass and stepped back and looked around a second time. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘How bad is it?’

‘Oh, boy,’ said Wheein. Hands on her hips. ‘This is some bad , Seulgi. Some real bad .’

‘Knew it.’

‘What?’

‘Nothing. What’s gone?’

‘A painting.’

‘Naturally. We are in a gallery, after all.’

‘Technically, it’s a museum and a gallery.’

‘It’s both.’

‘Yeah.’

‘So it could’ve been fossils.’

‘Could’ve been.’

‘But it’s not fossils.’

‘No. It’s not fossils.’

‘It’s a painting.’

Wheein nodded.

‘What painting then?’ said Seulgi.

‘Have you ever heard of The Cube?’

‘You’re going to have to be more specific than that.’

‘The painting.’

Seulgi shook her head.

‘Well. It’s a contemporary art piece. Was a contemporary art piece. Now it’s, well, who knows.’

‘It’s not here, that’s for sure.’

‘You’re damn right. And it should be here.’

‘Who’s it by?’

‘Jang Hyunsik.’

‘The one that died recently?’

Wheein nodded. She stood to the side and turned to the other officers and nodded and smiled and ran a hand back through her hair. ‘That’s the one,’ she said. ‘It was his only posthumous work.’

‘How does that work?’

‘How does what?’

‘Posthumous art. Did he finish it before he died and just not sell it?’

‘Yes.’

'Who sold it then?'

'His estate.'

‘Right.’

‘What were you thinking?’

‘I don’t know,’ Seulgi said.

‘Were you thinking his ghost finished it?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Wheein.’

‘Right,’ said Wheein. ‘Serious. You mind if I have some of that?’

‘Go right ahead.’

She took the bottle and unscrewed the cap and sniffed and screwed the cap again and put it back on the floor. ‘Not thirsty?’ Seulgi said.

‘I’ll pass, thanks.’

‘So, this painting. It’s gone.’

‘It’s gone.’

‘From here.’

‘From here,’ Wheein said.

‘When?’

‘Within the past six hours.’

‘Not exactly a narrow timeframe. Relatively speaking, of course. What happened to being in an age of 24/7 technology?’

‘That’s the problem. There was no security footage. All the cameras on this section were down for maintenance tonight.’

‘Do they not have guards?’

‘All gone home.’

‘That sounds a little too convenient.’

Wheein smiled. ‘I actually don’t know,’ she said. ‘I was just making up. But there really was no security footage because of maintenance. They only do it twice a year.’

‘You’ve spoken to all possible witnesses?’

‘Yeah. There aren’t many.’

Seulgi stood a moment. The glass cut out of the box lay on the floor in a neat square block like ice. ‘And that,’ she said. ‘Presuming some sort of glass-cutting tool?’

‘That would be a good presumption, yes.’

‘I’m going to go out on a limb and say they didn’t leave it behind, did they?’

‘The tool?’

‘Yeah.’

‘No. They took it with them. We’re clearly working with the best of the best here.’

‘Well. Worth a shot. And this painting, what does it look like?’

Wheein turned to her and shrugged.

‘What?’

‘Well,’ said Wheein. ‘It’s a cube.’

‘A cube.’

‘Yeah. A blue cube.’

‘What else?’

‘That’s it. That’s all of it. It’s called The Cube.’

‘And how much is it worth?’

‘Here’s the kicker.’

‘What?’

‘You want to know the reason you were called down here in the middle of the night? Why it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?’

‘I’d love to.’

Wheein stepped closer. As if someone else might hear them. ‘It’s worth nearly two hundred billion won.’

‘ off.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘No you’re not.’

‘Well. That’s what it’s worth.’

‘For a cube?’

‘A blue cube.’

‘I don’t care what colour it is.’

‘Hey, at least it’s a primary colour.’

‘That’s absurd,’ Seulgi said. ‘Was it painted with mercury or something?’

‘Just watercolours, I think.’

‘You think?’

‘I’m not an artist.’

‘Ttwo hundred billion won,’ Seulgi said. She puffed her cheeks out. ‘What’s that in dollars?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Wheein. ‘A hundred and fifty million? Something like that.’

‘That is ing ridiculous. I wouldn’t pay that for any painting.’

‘That’s why you’re not an art dealer.’

‘Is it?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know.’

‘I should change professions. Clearly this one’s not working out.’

‘I’m right there with you,’ Wheein said.

Seulgi turned to her again. ‘Is that why there are so many cars outside?’

‘Yeah. Whole department’s on it. And some others, too.’

‘I don’t recognise any of them.’

‘This is gonna be a national thing, Seulgi. I’m telling you.’

‘Two hundred billion.’

‘Kinda hard to believe, no?’

‘Kinda. Yeah. Say that again.’

‘Kinda.’

‘I guess I just don’t understand modern art.’

‘Who does?’

‘Modern art dealers?’

‘Do they, though? Or do they just sell it? It’s like this repeating feedback loop. If anything, I blame the hipsters. Hipsters love buying weird . The poor artists are forced into making it.’

‘Forced?’

‘It’s supply and demand. That’s how it works. And then the poor dealers are the ones that have to try and sell those paintings. Imagine trying to sell that. Imagine trying to sell a picture of a ing cube for two hundred billion won. The worst part is you just know someone’s going to buy it for that. Someone’s going to lap it up.’

‘How very counter-culture of you.’

‘Thanks. You know, I might have some of that vodka anyway.’

‘Go right ahead. So, are we officially on this case now? Or what?’

‘I don’t know,’ Wheein said. ‘Maybe. Hongki just wanted us down here. Maybe just to look at it.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. Don’t ask me.’

‘Where is he?’

‘About, probably. On the way. Probably seeing to this. This is going to be a national news story, once it gets out. It’s probably already out.’

‘I’ve never even heard of it.’

‘Heard of what?’

‘This painting. The Cube.’

‘That’s because you’re not hip and cool. You’re not into art.’

‘Neither are you.’

‘No. But I’m hip and cool.’

‘Uh huh. So, what now? Spoken to witnesses?’

‘Like I said, I got here about an hour ago. I know about as much as you do now.’

Seulgi paced about the room and looked at the glass box and the plinth and the glass on the floor. She turned back to Wheein and Hongki was there in the entranceway stood with his hands on his hips like a mirror image of Wheein. He was tall, grey. Sallowfaced. ‘That vodka you got there?’ he said.

‘No sir,’ said Seulgi.

‘Not vodka.’

‘No sir.’

‘Just says vodka on the label, does it?’

‘It’s water.’

‘Used to be vodka.’

‘Yes sir. Used to be vodka.’

‘But not anymore.’

Seulgi shrugged. He looked at them and turned and looked about as if inspecting something and then he nodded to them and sighed.

‘What is this, sir?’ Wheein said.

‘It’s a great big twenty-four carat ball of golden , is what it is.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Well. The painting’s gone, is what’s going on. Taken in the night by a thief. Or a ing ghost. And the only proper witnesses we’ve got are the guard on duty and the guy behind the cameras. And one of them says he heard nothing, and the other was asleep.’

‘Looks like they’re out of a job.’

‘They’d be lucky to be out of a sentence. You know how much this painting was worth, Wheein?’

‘Two hundred bi-’

‘Alright, alright.’ He ran a hand through what was left of his hair and made a face as to tell them everything else. ‘Don’t say it out loud again. I think I might shatter. Into a thousand tiny pieces. I’ve already got a headache.’

‘What do we do now?’

‘Now?’

He looked about. Then he made a motion for them to come closer and he spoke in a quiet voice. ‘Alright,’ he said. ‘This is a big deal. Biggest thing I can think of in a long time. If not ever. So you just go back and do your jobs, alright? You don’t make a fuss out of it. You just get on with everything.’

‘Is that it?’ Wheein said.

‘What else would there be?’

‘Why did you call us down here?’

‘I called everyone down here. Protocol. And don’t tell me it isn’t – I’m the Superintendent. I know protocol.’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘Don’t question me.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’

He rubbed at his jaw and sighed again. ‘Times like this I wish I didn’t quit smoking,’ he said.

‘I didn’t know you quit smoking, sir.’

‘Neither did I, until my wife told me I had. Funny how marriage works.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Now, go. Go on.’

‘Do we keep this quiet?’ Seulgi said.

‘Quiet? The whole city’s going on be on this like flies on , Seulgi. No, don’t bother about being quiet. What use is it anyway?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘And Seulgi.’

‘Yes sir?’

‘Give me some of that water.’

‘Yes sir.’

♣   ♣   ♣

When Wheein came in Seulgi was sat at her desk chewing on the end of a pencil and looking over a sheaf of notes Hongki had left on her desk earlier in the day. ‘Careful you don’t go blind reading all that,’ Wheein said.

‘What does that even mean?’

‘I don’t know. Sounded funnier in my head.’

‘What’s in that?’

She nodded to the sandwich Wheein was eating. Wheein held it up and waved it about and swallowed and wiped . ‘Ham and cheese,’ she said.

‘Simple.’

‘Simple is best. You still working on that 7-Eleven case?’

Seulgi nodded. Wheein took another bite and stood spinning her chair and looking about the office. It was a long room fit for about thirty people, and quiet. At the far end a number of sheerglass windows and Hongki’s office on the left. And Hongki sat there shouting mutely at someone over the phone like an enormous purpleheaded gorilla. Wheein turned to Seulgi and wiped her lips. ‘What’s up with you?’ she said.

‘What?’

‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Seulgi. Come on.’

Seulgi sighed. She tossed the papers down on her desk and kicked the chair back and made a big gesture about the room. ‘This,’ she said.

‘This.’

‘How long has it been since that painting went missing?’

‘The Cube?’

‘Yeah. The Cube. What other painting would I mean?’

‘I don’t know. Three weeks?’

‘Sixteen days. And what’s happened since then? Nothing? It could be on some boat in the middle of the sea somewhere and we wouldn’t know.’

‘Well.’

‘Yeah,’ Seulgi said. ‘Well.’

Wheein finished the last of her sandwich and folded away the paperwrapper and launched it into the bin in the hallway. ‘What do you suggest?’ she said.

‘I don’t know. I want to be on it. I want to do something.’

‘You think you can find it when nobody else has been able to?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, I do. The answer is: You can’t. Sorry.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘You don’t know anything.’

‘Rude.’

Wheein made a shrug that said: Sorry, it’s the truth.

‘I just wish I was doing anything except sitting here reading through petty crimes that nobody gives a about. Not even the victims. Why did I even get moved here in the first place?’

‘Moved to this desk?’

‘To the Theft and Petty Crimes division. Why?’

‘Because you’re bad at your job?’

‘I messed up once.’

‘Hey, don’t look at me. I didn’t make the transfer. And what’s wrong with this division anyway? You too good for us, hot-shot?’

‘No. I didn’t mean it like that. I just-’

‘Relax.’ Wheein smiled. ‘I know what you meant. And I know what you mean. Don’t worry about it.’

‘I just wish I was doing something.’

‘I know. Me too.’

When the phone rang it was just after two. She’d been reading the case notes through and through and she wheeled her chair to the end of the desk and answered the phone.

‘Hello? Yes sir. Yes sir, right away. Okay.’

When she put the phone down Wheein was looking at her from across the table.

‘What?’

‘Who was that?’

‘Hongki.’

‘What does he want?’

‘To see me.’

‘What for?’

‘I don’t know. What is this, 101 Questions?’

She stood and pushed her chair back and knocked on Hongki’s door and he told her to come in. For a while he just sat there reading something. As if he had not told her to come in at all. Then he told her to take a seat and she did. It was very quiet in that room. Very empty. The desk was of a walnut and steel design and littered with trinkets – two coffeecups, one bearing the emblem of the WORLD’S BEST DAD on the side, stacks of papers folded over other stacks of papers, dogeared books and dogeared papers and more papers, more papers, his wedding band on the corner of the table, a framed photo of Hongki and his wife and their twelve-year-old daughter, more papers. He looked at her and folded his hands on the table and he looked almost grave.

‘I’d say you’re not to tell anyone what I’m about to divulge,’ he said, ‘but I know you’re going to go out there and tell Wheein as soon as I let you go, so it. I’ll tell you straight up. You’re being moved to the Leeum case.’

She just looked at him.

‘Well. Go on. Say something.’

‘The Leeum case?’

‘The painting that’s gone missing. You know, The Cube.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘How about: Thank you, sir?’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Can I ask why?’

He opened one of the drawers and took out a red and faded folder and pushed it across the desk. Inside were a number of laminate sheets and a couple paperclipped photos. Then he opened the bottom drawer and took out an envelope that had already been opened and showed it to her.

‘This is an anonymous letter we received at eight this morning. We’ve not a clue where it’s come from. It was just left for us.’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s a tip-off. The names of two people and an address attached to them. It says they were involved in the Leeum robbery.’

‘What? Really?’

‘Really really. So, you’re being moved to the case. And it’s your job to investigate.’

Seulgi looked at him again.

‘You look lost,’ he said.

‘I’m sorry. I just…I’m a bit confused, sir.’

‘Well. I like you, Seulgi. And I know you don’t want to be stuck here, and I know you’re pretty good at your job. I think everyone deserves a second chance. So, this is yours.’

‘Do I have full jurisdiction?’

‘Over the case? No. You’ll be working on the low.’

‘Undercover?’

‘Not really. But you won’t be launching raids, doing like that. This is strictly a diplomatic thing. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. We don’t know what this address even leads to.’

‘Is it real?’

‘Yeah, it’s real. It’s an apartment. About half an hour from here. And the guys are real, too, but they’re squeaky-clean. No past criminal offences, no run-ins with the law, nothing like that. They’re model citizens. So we know approximately -all about this. Probably less than that, if I’m honest. But it’s your job to work it out.’

‘Just my job?’

‘No. The whole city’s job. But yours, too.’

‘Sorry for asking, but…’

She looked at him.

‘Go on,’ he said.

‘If this is as important as we’ve all been led to believe, then why me? Why are you giving this to me to handle?’

He laughed. ‘You think this is the only tip-off we’ve had?’ he said.

‘Is it not?’

‘No. Of course not. We’ve had a dozen at least. And about a hundred anonymous tips from people ringing from pretty much everywhere. This is a global news story, Seulgi. Yeah I said global. Yeah I know what that word means. Big-time news. So we need every available person on the job.’

‘So, this isn’t an exclusive thing.’

‘No.’

She looked at him again.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said.

‘There’s something else.’

He pointed to the folder in front of her. She took out the sheets and the photos and unclipped them and studied them in the faint windowlight. They were both of the same person, the same girl. She had long dark hair and a sharp and striking face and she was pretty almost to a fault in those still images, like something seraphic. Something from a photoshoot.

‘Do you know who that is?’ Hongki said.

‘No sir.’

‘That’s Bae Joohyun. She’s a thief. She steals things. Mostly jewellery, sometimes money. Fraud type stuff. Currently on probation after having her sentence suspended for – you guessed it – theft. A modern-day…’ he wobbled his hand in front of his face as if to conjure something. ‘Seulgi, name me a famous thief.’

‘Robin Hood?’

‘A modern-day Robin Hood, there you go. Go on, take a good look at her. You’re going to be doing a lot of that.’

‘Sir?’

‘Looking at her. I was implying you’re going to be looking at her a lot. It’s a play on words. It’s okay if you don’t get it. Don’t worry.’

‘No, I mean – why?’

‘The bigwigs above me have decided that this painting needs to be founds as soon as possible and you know what? I agree with them. So, that’s why you’ll be working with her, Bae Joohyun, to find it.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You’ll be partners.’

‘I don’t work well with the others.’

‘That much is obvious.’

‘Sir-’

‘No ifs, ands, or buts, Seulgi. Or waits, or nos. Just nod your head and say: Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. You’re working with her, and you’re going to get this painting back.’

Seulgi set the pictures down and straightened and pushed the folded back across the table. ‘I don’t see how she’d be a help,’ she said. ‘At all. She’s just a thief.’

‘She’s an extremely smart thief. And she’s been stealing things since she was in the womb.’

‘In the womb.’

‘Poetic license.’

‘Sir, I just-’

‘What did I just say? She’ll help you, and you’ll help her.’

‘Help her with what?’

He was quiet a minute. Then he said, ‘Okay, whatever. You won’t help her. But she will definitely help you.’

‘Why would she?’

‘Because if she doesn’t, she’s right back in a cell.’

‘You just said she was on probation.’

‘She could violate it.’

‘That’s illegal.’

‘We’ll think of something. Look, the point is – she’s going to be your partner, and she’s going to help you get that painting back. If there’s anyone in Seoul who knows more about theft and paintings than she does, point me in their direction. And then go get a down payment on a new house, because you’re getting a fat pay raise. But until then, you’re stuck with her.’

‘Sir.’

‘No arguments, Seulgi. You know I don’t do well with confrontations.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘I want you to find that painting. What do I want?’

‘You want me to find that painting.’

‘And what are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to find that painting.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ he said. ‘Go on. Dismissed. You’ll find everything you need to know in that folder. Go on.’

‘Yes sir. Thank you, sir.’

‘Don’t thank me. Thank common sense and democracy.’

She just looked at him for a minute. Then she took the folder and went back out and closed the door and no sooner had she gone was he on the phone again. Wheein had been watching her the whole time. She sat spinning her chair and drinking coffee out of a styrofoam cup and doing nothing much at all.

‘What did he say?’

‘I’m on the Leeum case,’ Seulgi said.

Wheein sat up. She set the coffee down. ‘What?’ she said. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re on the Leeum case? The real Leeum case?’

‘Is there any other one?’

‘You don’t look happy about it.’

She handed Wheein the folded and Wheein took it and read through it and passed it back. ‘Get the out of here,’ she said.

‘Alright, whatever.’

‘Bae Joohyun. You’re with this girl now?’

‘Apparently so. Do you know her? I’m guessing you do, being the grizzled young veteran of the Theft department and all.’

‘You’re damn right I know her. I don’t know whether to say you lucked out or not, honestly.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, Hongki was right.’

‘About what?’

‘If there’s anyone in this city that can get that painting back, it’ll be her. But she’ll drive you crazy, I can guarantee you that.’

‘How?’

‘You thought I was a sarcastic ?’

‘You are.’

‘I know. But she’s, like, a bigger one. You know what I mean?’

‘Trying to imagine it right now.’

‘How’s that going for you?’

‘Quite hard.’

Wheein pushed herself back in the chair and laughed. ‘Good luck with that,’ she said. ‘Honestly, I mean it.’

‘I’m sure you do.’

‘Let me know how it goes.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Love you too.’

Seulgi took the folder and packed away the documents and the sheets on her desk and pushed her chair under and waved to Wheein and the others.

‘Good luck,’ Wheein said again. When Seulgi turned back she was smiling. ‘You’re gonna need it.’