AUTHOR'S NOTE: The support has been so good to witness guys <3 Love you all, please drop an upvote if you're enjoying and you haven't already, means the world to me :)

As for the story itself: I'm so pleased to read that people are enjoying it, since I've never considered myself a comedy/fluff writer but I'm having SO much fun writing this. I've also figured out how long the story's gonna be: It'll be 22 chapters, with an Epilogue at the end. So, 23 chapters total. And it will be split into two sections - Part 1 and Part 2 - both in this story obviously (as in, I'm not starting a different fic for Part 2) just because it makes differentiating between the two secitons easier. And no spoilers but there's a definite reason for the break in the middle haha

Anyway, if this chapter confuses you - don't worry, it's kinda meant to, that's the point of the comedy bit. I tried writing something a bit more...silly? for once lol. Let me know how it's gone <3

Enjoy!

8

Who's on First?

The first thing she realised was that she had a blinding headache. It hurt to move. It hurt to crease her forehead or wink or do anything so she just lay there groaning into the pillow. The alarm clock had beeped and buzzed and beeped again maybe six or seven times and each time she’d rolled over half asleep and pawed for it in a futile attempt to make it permanently shut up. When she at last opened her eyes and took in the thin and pale windowlight she immediately wished she hadn’t. Her head hurt still. The clock read just after ten in the morning. Her breath stank, that awful dry and fibrous aftertaste of alcohol stuck firmly to her tongue and her cheeks and there every time she breathed. Like something stuck to the inside of her gums, that fuzz that serves only to remind of the futility of drinking once the moment has already passed. Why couldn’t it be before?

She rolled over again and pushed the covers back and sat against the headboard looking around at nothing at all. The cabinets, the white walls. The clock boldly red beside her. The bedroom door closed. It occurred to her while sitting there that she had no idea why her head hurt or why she had been drinking or if she had been drinking at all. Perhaps the taste of such had simply come into by accident. Perhaps it had been something in the night. She tried thinking back to the night before and it was impossible, entirely impossible. Not even fragments, jigsaw memory pieces to be reassembled. Just a darkness.

She remembered being in the car with Irene. Ah, that’s right – Irene. How could she forget Irene? How could she ever. And she remembered driving back to her apartment after talking to Joy and she remembered the traffic and she remembered the roar of the Flat-12 going along Hannam and the distant citylights dancing like wisps in the ceiling void of the world. She remembered arriving back at her apartment. Then she woke up. But as to what came between she had no idea whatsoever.

The clock buzzed and beeped again. Seulgi turned it off and swung her legs out of the bed and sat there a moment realigning herself with the physical world. felt terrible. She reached for the glass of water on the beside table and drank until it was empty and realised suddenly that she hadn’t put it there. Or perhaps she had and had forgotten. Again, that fleeting insobriety. And what it does to a person. After a few minutes she stumbled into the bathroom and washed her face in the sink and went into the kitchen to make herself something to eat but she needn’t have bothered.

Irene was sat at the table, plate and glass of OJ in front of her, chewing a slice of toast. Wearing only those grey boyshorts and a black shirt so that even her chest was palely visible and oh-so-tempting, if only in passing. She waved to Seulgi and Seulgi still half asleep waved back. Irene giggled.

‘What?’ Seulgi said, her voice catching.

‘You look like .’

‘What happened last night?’

‘Good question.’

‘Irene, what happened?’

‘You don’t remember?’

Seulgi shook her head. She was still standing in the doorway. Irene finished her slice of toast and said, ‘You really don’t remember?’

‘No. What happened?’

‘Well. What of yesterday do you remember at all?’

‘Talking to Joy. Telling you to take charge. Coming back here.’

‘And then?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Well,’ Irene said. ‘You got drunk.’

‘What?’

‘I took charge.’

‘What?’

‘I asked if you wanted a drink and you said no and then I asked you again and you said no. And then I asked you again and guess what? You said yes! So I got the whiskey out and poured you a glass and we drank and then we drank a little too much, I think. At least, you did.’

‘,’ Seulgi muttered. ‘Why did you let me drink?’

‘Why would I have stopped you?’

‘I hate drinking.’

‘You should’ve told me that before you drank.’

‘I probably did.’

‘Believe me, you didn’t.’

‘,’ Seulgi said. ‘I hate drinking.’

‘You’ve just said that.’

‘I can never remember what I’ve done whenever I drink. I hate it.’

‘Why’ve you got so much whiskey then? Wait, wait. Is it because you want to be cool? Because it’s something your hero Don would do?’

‘Shut up.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ Irene laughed. It was too loud for laughter, too loud for anything. Seulgi thought she might collapse. ‘This isn’t funny,’ she said.

‘It is a little.’

‘Why’d you let me drink?’

‘Are you going round in circles on purpose?’

‘How much did I have?’

‘About half a bottle.’

‘No I didn’t.’

‘You did,’ Irene said.

‘Of whiskey?’

‘No. Of bubble tea.’

Seulgi went into the livingroom and made to open the cabinet but the whiskey was still out on the table, the big square bottle of amber stuff that had cost her eighty thousand won a couple years ago, the stuff she’d never opened before because why open it? She hated it anyway. And two small glasses, one still with about an inch worth of whiskey in the bottom of it, and whiskey stains browned on the glass tabletop, and the couch cushions scattered about the floor, and the cap of the bottle nowhere to be seen. Slowly she shifted back into the kitchen. Irene was eating her toast again. ‘Want some?’ she said.

‘Some what?’

‘Breakfast.’

‘Why did you let me get drunk?’

‘This again?’

‘Did anything happen?’ Seulgi said. Standing there propped against the doorway as if she might fall otherwise. It was almost pathetic, really. And her head still hurt like nobody’s business.

‘What do you mean did anything happen?’ Irene said.

‘I don’t know.’ Seulgi rubbed at her arm. ‘Did anything happen?’

‘Define anything.’

‘Well. It defines itself really.’

‘You threw up.’

‘. Did I?’

‘No,’ Irene said.

‘Why’d you say it then?’

‘Thought it’d be funny to see your reaction. You throw up often from drinking?’

‘I don’t drink often at all.’

‘Clearly.’

‘Where’s the lid? Of the bottle. Where is it?’

‘I don’t know. Probably somewhere. I mean, definitely somewhere. Technically speaking.’

‘Irene.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want any breakfast?’

Seulgi just waved her down. She rubbed at her forehead. Maybe she was coming on with a fever or maybe not but it sure-as- felt like it. She stank of whiskey and sweat and still of perfume. ‘I should’ve never drunk,’ she said.

‘Well. You did.’

‘I need to get a shower. We need to be going.’

‘Going where?’

She looked at Irene. Then she realised she didn’t know where. She hadn’t called Hongki at all. Or if she had she couldn’t remember it. ‘Last night,’ she said. ‘Did I ring anyone? Hongki, did I ring Hongki?’

‘Your husband?’

‘Whatever.’

‘No, you didn’t. At least, I don’t think so.’

‘.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I was supposed to. And I forgot.’

‘Let me guess: it’s my fault?’

Seulgi didn’t say anything. A cool yellow sun was coming up posted over the far sky and it was warmer than it had been in some time. ‘So, what are we doing then?’ Irene said, finishing what remained of her last slice and downing the OJ and pouring herself another glass from the big carton.

‘I need to ring Hongki and tell him everything. And get details on this guy, Kim Taeho.’

‘So you remember his name at least.’

‘I remember that far back.’

‘But not last night.’

Seulgi shook her head and Irene giggled. Don’t do that, she wanted to say. It only made the headache worse, that laugh. Only made it more intense, the hammering in the base of her skull. Like she was genetically hardwired to react to everything Irene did, every micromovement, every laugh and cough and look of the eye, every time she brushed her hair out of her face or curled her lips into that very familiar smile or even moved, even breathed. Yeah, that’s right. Never mind the breadcrumb trail of murder victims, never mind the missing persons. Irene Irene Irene!

Without another word she showered and rang Hongki and when she came back in Irene was still sitting there at the table, reading from a paperback, legs crossed one over the other, legs pale and defined and bared for Seulgi to gawp at and gawp she did. Irene turned her eyes up at her. She was standing by the kitchen counter. ‘Why are you wearing that?’ Irene said.

‘Wearing what?’

‘That.’

‘Am I not allowed? I wore it yesterday. Or something that looked the same. Why does it matter what I wear?’

‘Why are you getting so defensive?’ Irene said. ‘It was just a question.’

‘Yeah, but why?’

‘Your entire wardrobe is white suits and white pants, except what you’re wearing now.’

‘No it isn’t,’ Seulgi said.

‘Yes it is.’ She put the paperback down and uncrossed her legs and crossed them the opposite way and smirked. She knew it. Seulgi knew that she knew it. The power she held in every little gesture, every cross of those legs and every raise of the eyebrows, every of the lips. Not that she’d her lips per se, but she would. Oh, she would.

‘No it isn’t.’

‘Be honest,’ Irene said, ‘are you wearing that because you know I’d laugh at you if you wore the white? Because I know you’re trying desperately hard to look like Don Johnson? It’s almost cute, you know? Except, not really. But still. I appreciate the effort.’

‘I don’t care. Go get a shower.’

‘What are we doing?’

‘I rang Hongki,’ Seulgi said.

‘And?’

‘I told him everything and he got back to me with everything I need.’

‘Everything we need.’

‘Whatever.’

‘I thought I was supposed to be taking charge?’

Seulg didn’t reply.

‘What did he say?’ Irene asked.

‘There are three Kim Taehos on record, all in the past five years, all for theft-related offences. The one we’re looking for is a Kim Taeho that lives in Yandong with his aging father. Arrested three years ago for robbery, served fourteen months. He has a tattoo of a white lotus on his neck. Apparently he got it while in prison.’

‘A white lotus,’ Irene said. She sat up.

‘Yeah.’

‘You know what that means, right?’

‘The White Lotus Gang.’

‘This is proper gang , Seulgi. Wow. Spooky.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Huh. You could be right. I guess this guy’s just got a gang tattoo on his neck because he likes the aesthetic, then.’

‘You don’t know if he’s even involved.’

‘You’re right,’ Irene said. ‘I guess he’s not. I guess it’s all just one big coincidence.’

Seulgi ignored her and continued. ‘There was a robbery at a grocery store in Cheongdam about three weeks ago. A few days before the Leeum disappearance. The suspect was wearing a black ski mask and he had a knife. The clerk that was on duty is one Ahn Hyejin. She gave information to the officers on the scene that he was alone when he came in, he had a deep voice, and that she couldn’t recognise him through the mask. He made off with a couple hundred thousand won.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘Becau-’

‘Wait. Wait. Let me guess. Is it because he had a white lotus tattoo on his neck?’

Seulgi sighed.

‘Bingo,’ Irene said. ‘See? Not just a pretty face. So, let me guess – we go and talk to the clerk at this store, see what she knows, see if she can corroborate any info? Then we, what? Go and find this mystery guy?’

‘You need to be taking this more seriously.’

‘What part of it am I not taking seriously? Do I need to be all glum and dull like you to be serious? Do I need to walk around with a grumpy frown on my face? Because I can. I’m a good actor. I’ve had experience.’

‘Irene.’

‘Forget it. I’ll go shower.’

She stood slowly, fluidly. Each step a calculated one. So that Seulgi there watching her began to doubt whether the whiskey had worn off fully, whether what she was seeing was real or not – Irene coming toward her, hips hypnotic, steps synchronic, lips so full and red, hair tousled and unwashed, smelling of her perfume now, presumably she’d picked it out of her bag, the scent of jasmine, rich and woody undernotes, an immediacy to it. ‘I’ll be done soon,’ she said, taking her bag from the floor beside the kitchen stools, slow and careful and measured, eyeing Seulgi as she went, laughing.

There wasn’t really much Seulgi could do about it but stand there and tug at the collar of her buttondown and wipe the sweat from her forehead and try and forget about it. Forget about Irene. Or forget about how striking she looked, every part of her, but if she was being honest such a thing was impossible at best. And at worst? Dunno. She didn’t know a word worse than impossible.

♣   ♣   ♣

Irene came out half an hour later. She was dressed in a plain white shirt and black jeans and her hair was tied back and the prominent line of her collarbones apparent even there in that low light. It was just after one in the afternoon when they left. Seulgi started the car and pulled out going southward toward Seongsu Bridge in the middling traffic. It had not rained for more than a week. She didn’t know when it would rain again. She didn’t know what Wheein was doing right now. She didn’t know whether the Testarossa could make it another thirty miles without a gas stop and she didn’t know if she wanted to chance it at any sort of speed. All she knew was that Irene had put on that jasmine perfume again and all she could smell sitting there behind the wheel was that smell, the smell of her, how intoxicating it was, how full in her nose. Winceworthy.

About an hour later after stopping for gas she rolled down Dosan street and stopped the car across from the grocery store. A single sign hung in bold green lettering that said CU. Some kid came up by the window while they were sat there sorting through notepads and documents and gave a little thumbs up at the car and Irene thumbsed him back and turned to Seulgi. ‘Do you get that a lot?’ she said.

‘Get what?’

She nodded to the kid, now on his way down the street with his buddies, a football under one arm.

‘That.’

‘I missed it.’

‘He gave you a thumbs up. Well, not you. Obviously not you. Your car.’

Seulgi, curtly, saying: ‘Sometimes.’

‘Well. That’s very modest.’

‘I’m just telling the truth.’

‘It was a wise investment then. I mean, let’s be honest, the only reason anyone buys one of these is so people can stare it at and take pictures and . Or to look like something out of Miami Vice, I suppose. But that’s a much sadder option. How many people even know about Miami Vice anymore? I mean, it happened like thirty-five years ago, Seulgi. Let it go. You feel me?’

‘Are you done?’

‘Sure.’

Seulgi opened the car and stepped out into the street with Irene behind her. The CU was empty save two patrons. The clerk that watched them was maybe a couple years younger than they were. She had long dark hair and a striking face even in little makeup. She smiled at them and when she saw Seulgi’s police badge gleaming in the whitelight she wasn’t smiling anymore.

‘You must be the detectives,’ she said.

‘That’s us. And you’re Miss Ahn Hyejin?’

‘That’s me.’

‘We’ve got a few questions we have to ask you, Miss Ahn. If that’s alright with you.’

‘Is this about the robbery the other week?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘I’ve already said everything to the other men that came around.’

‘Well. We’d like to talk to you again.’

‘Woman to woman,’ Irene said. ‘If you know what I mean.’

‘I don’t, sorry.’

‘We just want to talk,’ said Seulgi.

‘Well. Okay then.’

‘We’re going to probably ask you some things you’ve already been asked. Just to corroborate the story.’

‘Okay.’

Seulgi took out her notepad and a ballpoint pen and thumbed the pushbutton and opened to a clean page. Hyejin looked at them both in turn.

‘You were working here when the robbery occurred, is that right?’

Irene laughed. They both turned to her and she made a face as if to say: Sorry, can’t help it.

‘What?’ Seulgi said.

‘You’re still using a pad and pen?’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘I saw someone do that once. It was a cop show. From nineteen eighty-four.’

‘Irene.’

‘It was the same when you were talking to Joy. Writing everything down. I thought you were doing it to be funny or something. You know. It’s like irony. But I guess not. Don’t you have an iPad or something?’

‘Irene.’

‘. Right. Sorry.’ She cleared . ‘Continue. Please.’

‘Sorry for that. You said you were working here the day of the robbery?’

‘Right,’ said Hyejin. ‘But I don’t normally. I’m the replacement clerk, you see. The part-timer. Normally it’s this other guy. An American. Says he’s a student here and he needs the money. Doesn’t look like it to me. But, whatever.’

‘Another clerk.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Doesn’t look it?’ said Irene.

‘Right.’

‘American?’

‘Like he needs the money.’

‘But he looks American?’

‘Yeah. Sure. Why does that ma-’

‘It doesn’t,’ Seulgi said. She smiled apologetically on behalf of Irene and continued. ‘What’s his name?’

‘That’s right.’

‘What?’

‘Yes. Watt.’

‘I need his name, Miss.’

‘I’ve just told you.’

‘What is it?’

‘Correct.’

‘What?’

‘Watt.’

‘What?’ said Seulgi.

‘Yes. I’ve just said that.’

‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to work with us, Miss Ahn.’

‘Please. Call me Hyejin.’

‘Is that your name?’ said Irene.

‘What?’

Irene shook her head. ‘No. Hyejin.’

‘Yes,’ Hyejin said. ‘Hyejin’s my name.’

Seulgi shrugged. She wrote. ‘Okay, Hyejin,’ she said. ‘I need the name of the clerk that normally works here whenever you’re not on duty.’

‘Watt. It’s American.’

‘I said I need the name of the clerk that normally works here.’

‘Yes. Watt.’

‘Can you not hear me properly?’

‘My hearing’s fine, thank you very much.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Yes, Watt.’

‘I just asked for his name.’

‘And I’m telling you!’

‘Okay. Alright then. Forget it. We’ll ask later. What about others? Who else works here? Stockers? Stackers? Picker-uppers?’

‘We’ve just got us two and a security guard. Technically speaking.’

‘A security guard. What’s his name?’

‘It isn’t.’

‘What?’

‘No, it’s not Watt. That’s the clerk.’

‘The security guard’s name.’

‘It’s Mr. Choi. But we call him Hoo.’

‘Choi Hoo,’ said Seulgi.

‘Yeah.’

‘And what does he know about this? Was he interviewed?’

‘Who?’ said Hyejin.

‘Hoo.’

‘Why?’

‘We need to know. About Hoo.’

‘Hoo?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well. He wasn’t here.’

‘What?’

‘He wasn’t either.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Hoo wasn’t here. It was the replacement security guard.’

‘The replacement.’

Hyejin nodded. ‘Right.’

‘Lot of replacements around here,’ Irene said.

‘And who’s he?’ said Seulgi.

Hyejin shook her head. ‘No. Hoo isn’t him. He’s a Chinese man.’

‘Who’s a Chinese man?’

‘No, the replacement’s a Chinese man.’

‘The replacement’s a Chinese man?’

‘Right.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘No,’ Hyejin said. ‘Watt’s the clerk. The replacement’s name is Mr. Hao. But we just call him Hao.’

‘Hao.’

‘Yes.’

‘Hao was here?’

‘Yes. He was the guard. The replacement guard.’

‘And did he see anything?’

‘Who?’

‘No, Hao.’

‘I think he was on break,’ Hyejin said.

‘So he didn’t see anything?’

‘I don’t think so. You’d have to ask him.’

‘Did the others?’

‘The others?’

‘The other detectives that were here,’ Seulgi said. ‘Did they ask him?’

‘Oh. I don’t think so. But you’d have to check with them. Or with him.’

‘With Hao?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what about anyone else? Is there anyone else – anyone at all – that might be able to help us? We need to identify the men that were here on that day.’

‘Only the manager.’

‘And what’s his name?’

‘Mr. No. But he tells us to just call him-’

‘No?’ said Seulgi.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘He says No.’

‘Who says no?’

‘The manager.’

‘What?’ said Hyejin.

‘I thought he was the clerk.’

‘Who?’

‘No, that’s the security guard,’ Irene said.

‘No’s the manager,’ said Hyejin.

‘Then who’s who?’ said Seulgi.

Irene nodded. ‘Hoo is the guard, sweetie.’

‘Who is?’

‘Yes. Hoo is.’

‘How does any of this make sense?’

‘I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.’

‘Ask who?’

‘No,’ Hyejin said. ‘Ask Hao.’

‘How?’

‘What?’

‘No,’ Irene said. ‘Hao.’

Seulgi nodded. She wrote again. ‘Alright,’ she said. ‘Alright. Well. We know that Hao was here on the day it was robbed. And we know he’s the security guard, right?’

‘No,’ said Hyejin.

‘No’s the manager.’

‘No, I mean – Hoo’s the guard.’

‘How?’

‘He’s the replacement.’

‘Who is?’

‘No, Hao is.’

‘Then what about Watt?’

‘He’s the clerk.’

‘Okay. And what about you?’

‘Oh no,’ Hyejin said. ‘He wasn’t here.’

‘Who wasn’t?’

‘No, Hoo was. But Yoo wasn’t.’

‘Who’s you?’

‘I’m Hyejin.’

‘No.’

‘He’s the manager.’

‘No, I mean – who is Yoo?’

‘Oh,’ Hyejin said. ‘Yoo’s the assistant manager.’

‘And the replacement clerk – that’s you?’

‘No, he’s the assistant manager. I’ve just said that.’

‘I mean you. Not Yoo.’

‘Who?’

‘No. You.’

‘I am, yes.’

‘So we’ve got a relative who’s who.’

‘Hoo?’ said Hyejin.

‘A who’s who.’

‘Who is Hoo?’ said Irene.

‘He’s the guard, we’ve said this. Now, anyway. All we’ve got left is to put all the pieces together and figure it out. We know what day it happened. We know there were two robbers. We know when they came in and through which door. We know what they took. And we know who was here.’

‘Oh,’ Hyejin said. ‘Hoo wasn’t here.’

‘No, I mean-’

‘Neither was No.’

‘It was just the replacements?’

‘Right.’

‘Who’s he?’ Irene said.

‘Who?’

‘No. Wright.’

‘Oh, he’s the maintenance man.’

They all looked at one another. Seulgi folded her notepad away. ‘Well then,’ she said. ‘What can you tell us about the people that came in?’

‘I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.’

‘Ask who?’

‘No, ask Watt.’

‘I’m asking you.’

‘When?’

‘Right now.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Who?’

‘No,’ Hyejin said. ‘Yoo.’

‘I’m right here.’

‘Not you.’

‘Who then?’

‘Who are you even asking?’

‘I’m asking you, since you were here.’

Hyejin shrugged.

‘Did you see them come in?’ said Seulgi.

‘Yes.’

‘And they were alone? The two of them?’

Hyejin shook her head. ‘They came in alone,’ she said. ‘But when they went out they hopped into a car and drove off.’

‘What car?’

‘I don’t know. I’ve no idea.’

‘Can you guess? Or remember it, at all.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Please. Think.’

‘I am.’

‘And?’

‘What?’

‘No, not Watt,’ said Seulgi. ‘We know about him.’

‘About who?’

‘Yes, Hoo too. And Hao, and No. And Yoo.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, and Yoo too.’

‘Then what?’

‘Already done him,’ Seulgi said. ‘Now, what can you remember about the car?’

‘It was black. Might have been a Hyundai. A new model. I honestly can’t remember anything else. I’m sorry.’

Seulgi and Irene looked at one another and Irene made a gesture as if to say: That ain’t good enough, partner. That sure-as- ain’t good enough.

‘There’s a lot of Hyundais in Korea,’ she said.

‘Well.’

‘Well what?’

‘I don’t know about cars,’ Hyejin said. ‘Not at all. Look, I’m sorry, alright? I’ve just never seen anything like this before. I’m all freaked out and . It’s crazy to me.’

‘It’s alright,’ said Seulgi. She took a stick of gum from her pocket and held it out. ‘I understand. Take all the time you need. Gum?’

‘Yes, it is.’

Seulgi and Irene glanced at one another. ‘Look,’ Seulgi said, ‘is there anything else you can remember? Anything at all? About the man.’

‘I don’t know. I really don’t. Can’t you check CCTV or something?’

‘There’s nothing else left for us to check. No CCTV.

‘Ah,’ Hyejin said. ‘That’ll be why the maintenance man was scheduled to come in.’

‘The maintenance man?’

‘Yeah. On the day of the robbery he was meant to come sort out the cameras.’

‘Ah,’ Seulgi said. ‘Right.’

‘Yes. Wright.’

‘Did he have a tattoo?’ Irene said.

‘Who?’

‘No.’

‘What?’

‘No, not Watt either. Him. The man that robbed you. Did he have a tattoo?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe? It looked like a tattoo maybe.’

‘Where?’

‘I don’t know. On his face? His neck? I can’t remember. I told you already, I don’t know.’

‘Alright,’ Seulgi said. ‘Is there anything else?’

‘No.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Who?’

Seulgi shook her head. ‘No.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘What about Yoo?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘No, not you.’

‘Then who?’

‘No, not Hoo. Yoo.’

‘I’ve just said I’m fine.’

‘Seulgi,’ said Irene. ‘Come on.’

‘Alright. Thank you for your help, Miss Ahn.’

‘Is that all?’

‘It is for now, yes.’

‘You mean you’re going to come back later?’

‘We don’t know. We may have some questions at a later date. What’s the best time for you?’

‘He’s only here on Wednesdays and Fridays.’

‘Who?’

‘No, he’s here every day except Wednesday.’

‘Who is?’

‘Yes, Hoo is.’

‘No, what?’

‘Most days as well. Both of them.’

‘What?’

‘Yes, Watt.’

‘Alright. Whatever. And what about Yoo?’

‘I’m here most days as well.’

‘No, I meant Yoo.’

‘Who?’

Seulgi shrugged. ‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘We’ll come back some other time. Miss Ahn, thank you again for all your help.’ She took a card from her jacket pocket and handed it over and smiled. ‘If you have anything else you want to tell us – anything you remember – anything at all, call this number. And ask for Detective Kang.’

‘Or Detective Bae,’ Irene said.

‘No, don’t do that.’

‘You can.’

‘Don’t.’

‘Who do I ask for then?’ said Hyejin.

‘Ask for me,’ Seulgi said.

‘Who?’

‘No, me.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘No, it isn’t. My name’s Seulgi. Kang Seulgi.’

‘Okay. Thank you.’

Seulgi smiled awkwardly. They said goodbye and she nodded and went out and Irene followed her and for a moment they stood just outside the door up the cold. On the wall across the street a great big decorative graffiti set spelled out FREEDOM IS EVERYWHERE YOU JUST HAVE TO LOOK FOR IT in a dull red and emblazoned with rain and fading already. And it had been half plastered over with new paint.

‘Well,’ Irene said. ‘I think that just about clears everything up.’