Everyone gets caught eventually. 

The twelve men responsible for the theft of the Pala Di Oro found themselves dragged into custody, all for one goal: to reveal the brain behind the operation. 

Logan is placed in holding, separated by a two-way mirror, alone. it’s not the police that makes people confess, it’s the stillness. The walls closing in until you’re nothing but a hollow distorted image. A fish in a fishtank, water going down. They leave him isolated for hours, before he closes his eyes, perfectly still. 

Su Ryeon braces herself to go in when Captain Kang stops her. 

“It’s my case!” she protests. 

“The Queen never makes the first move. You’re too valuable. We send our Bishop to tire him up more, then you attack.”

She defers to her captain’s strategy and settles to observe as Yoon Chul enters the interrogation chamber. 

“You’re not who I expected”, Logan says. 

Yoon Chul settles across the table, switches on the camera, and begins to recite Logan's rights. 

“Too bad Mr Lee, I’m the one you’re getting. I’m detective Ha and I’ll be conducting the interrogation.” 

“Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Get her in here if you want me to talk.”

“If you’re referring to detective Shim, she has more…pressing issues to attend to.”

Logan goes to the mirror, scanning the glass as if he can see through it. He walks along it paying attention to the detective’s expression. Another step and Yoon Chul gulps. 

“She’s right there.”

He sprays his palm on the cold glass as if to reach her and she holds her breath. The captain casts her a warning look. 

“We arrested twelve of your cooperators in the midst of stealing the Di Oro Plaque and they will be charged with larceny. The degree of the crime and the sentence will be determined by whether or not they cooperate with us. If they provide information on who ordered them to steal it, they will face fines. Otherwise they’ll be saddled with grand larceny, which carries a significant prison sentence. So you can gather that your men have a good reason to give you up.”

“Good job, detective. I feel so safe now that you’re watching over the city.”

“Cut the crap. They are ready to identify you as the mind of the operation and you’ll be faced with grand larceny carrying a 30-year sentence. You won't see the light of day until you're sixty. How does that strike you?"

“Fifty-nine.”

“Yes, that's going to make a difference.” 

“I’ll be sending my kids to college by then.” He muses. “Unless she doesn’t want kids, so… skinny-dipping in the Greek islands?”

Yoon Chul is losing his patience. Her colleague is better at following orders rather than devising strategy, as Mari says. 

“My captain authorized me to offer you a deal. Reduced sentence in exchange for your confession. This deal disappears in a few hours so I strongly suggest you take it”. 

“We have different definitions of the word deal, detective.”

“Take it. There won’t be another.”

“Counter offer. I sit here, you offer me horrible coffee, then I walk out free.” Yoon Chul grunts, which delights Logan. “I go home, get my beauty sleep, dream of an enchanting woman chasing me around the world, and when I get up I text you the number of my tailor, because last time this shirt was in style, Elvis was still alive.”

“Do I have to steal paintings to afford him?”

“Would you? If the thing you love most in this world hung in the balance?" His tone shifts abruptly, the same intensity he had when she arrested him. 

She tenses. Ask him what he loves most! she orders via the listening device. 

“What does the voice in your ear say?” he smirks. “If she really wants the answer she should come and ask me herself.”

“You’re stuck with me.”

“What do you love the most, detective?” He scans him. What would a man gather from Yoon Chul’s appearance? He's perfectly ordinary. But then again, it’s Logan’s job to observe. “Let me guess. Wife?” He waits. “No. Kids? You don’t have any. Oh, I got it: could it be, your first love?”

“Shut your mouth and start defending yourself.”

“You know, detective, I've always found the notion of first love dreadfully childish. Young people don’t feel love, but limerence. I don’t know why Koreans are so obsessed with it.”

“You’re Korean.”

“In blood maybe, in upbringing not so much.” Su Ryeon files that for later. "To love deeply, you have to have lived a life. Love isn't the innocent, perfect thing of youth and dramas; it's finding the person who can really see you.”

“Explains why you’re seen with a different socialite every week.”

“I didn’t know the police were getting their info from gossip sites.”

“We watch who you associate with.”

“Then you could decipher the nature of these liaisons.” 

Su Ryeon adjusts her shirt, avoiding Captain Kang’s eyes. 

“Okay, I’ll do your work for you: when I take a photo with a famous woman, people click, gathering publicity for the art exhibits. Oldest trick in the book.”

“Your tricks are exactly why you ended up like that”, he points at his restrained hands.

"Is that the best you've got?" he taunts. "I must say, I'm disappointed. You've got me in handcuffs in your territory, and you haven't figured out how to hold me? What kind of amateur are you? You seem too old to be just getting started now."

“Insults won’t help your case.”

“I don’t need help cause you have no case. You know what your problem is, Mr Ha?”

“It’s detective Ha, you-”

“It’s that you didn’t even ask why this is all happening. If you can’t follow the game, don’t play it.”

“Is that what it is? Are you playing games with her?”

Logan smiles widely, as if he expected this turn. 

“Su Ryeon is a fascinating opponent. You, on the other hand…”

“Don’t call her by name.”

He settles back on the plastic chair, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. 

“Careful there, detective. You’re showing your cards.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Logan’s smirk widens. “You tell me. You’re awfully protective of her. I saw you in the gallery, staring daggers at me when we were talking.” Yoon Chul makes fists under the table. “She is a perfectly capable -not to mention armed- police officer with more knowledge about the case than you. So why the interest? Is it purely professional or…?”

Yoon Chul slams his arms onto the interrogation table, pinning him with a furious glare. 

“Finish the sentence and you won’t live to see prison.”

“I see. You’re acting touch cause she’s on the other side of the glass. But the only thing she’ll witness today is your failure.”

Logan leans in, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. 

“Isn’t that why your wife left you?”

A surge of anger propels Yoon Chul's fist forward, connecting with Logan's face with a harsh thud. The impact echoes in the empty room as Logan, restrained by handcuffs, goes sprawling out of his chair. The metallic clash of the chair hitting the floor resonates with the raw force of Yoon Chul's blow. Logan grunts in pain. 

Su Ryeon lets out a cry and bangs on the glass so hard it rattles. 

“Motherer.” Yoon Chul screams, as he keeps Logan down with a hand on his throat, punching with the other. 

“Did I hit a nerve, detective?” Logan asks amidst hisses of pain. 

She bursts in and pulls Yoon Chul off him. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“This scum-” 

“Shut up”, she shoves him towards the door. “Is it true?”

He covers his face, a streak of blood coming off his hands. 

“Yoon Hee asked for a divorce.”

“That's why you came to Seoul?”

“How did the er know?”

“Get out. Now! Get me an ice pack” she barks at the mirror. 

“Is that what it takes to get you to talk to me?” Logan tries to smile but his split lip makes him wince. “Worth it.”

Rushing to his side, she kneels down and inspects the damage. He spots angry red stains that will bruise in a matter of minutes. 

She tilts his chin, while his eyes are glued to hers. 

“Hi, beautiful.”

“Can you get up?”

He tries to hoist himself onto the chair, the handcuffs making it difficult so she helps.

An officer finally brings the ice pack and Su Ryeon holds it out to him. When he doesn’t move to take it, she presses it to his cheek, gently. He closes his eyes and leans into her hand. 

He hurts and bleeds like everyone else. She’s been chasing a shadow, but he’s a man, flesh under her fingers. 

“I’m sorry” she exhales. Logan shakes his head. “Are you feeling dizzy? Disoriented, concussed?”

“Just sore.”

“Hold that” he catches her hand along with the ice pack. 

“Give me a minute.”

She nods, squeezing his hand and lets go. She stops the recording and taps twice on the one-way mirror, the signal of taking a break. The mirror turns see-through and Kang Mari and the officers exit the compartment. As she moves to leave too, giving him a few minutes to recover, he stops her.

“Stay.”

She sits on the table facing him. 

He raises his hands. Since he couldn’t defend himself and now can't hold the ice-pack, she obliges to uncuff him. 

He stares at her and smiles tiredly. 

“We could be doing this over dinner”, he breaks the tension and they both chuckle. 

“I could get you something from the vending machine, you’ve been locked for hours, you must be hungry.”

“How is it that you’re so sweet to me now?”

“I feel bad”, pointing at his face.

“Not your fault.”

“It kinda is. I mean, I do want you in prison but not this way.”

“I am touched.” 

“I'm serious.”

“I know. You’re too law-abiding for punches,” he looks at her lips, “and I prefer your other method of arrest anyway.”

“Do you want your phone call now?”

“No need.”

“Come on, people would be worried about you.”

He laughs bitterly. 

“No one would come for me in the middle of the night.”

That’s dark, she thinks. 

“Your sister?”

"Studying abroad. And I wouldn't want her to see me like this. It would upset her."

Everyone she’s arrested has called someone to come. Many use it as a tactic to gain sympathy, dialing estranged wives, kids, parents. It takes guts to brave a night in prison alone. 

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore this side of him.

“I truly loved the painting of Matilda. Thank you.”

“Imagine where I’d be if you didn’t like it,” he laughs. “I’m glad. I wanted to share that with someone.”

She points at his bruises, now deep red.

“I hope this doesn’t cause problems for you.” 

“As in?”

“At work. Don’t you have to meet clients? Or go on dates”. 

He pretends to think about it. 

“Which one are you more worried about?”

“The former. Women love scars.”  

“Oh”, he rises to his full height, and leans over her. “Do they?” He puts his hands on either side of her on the table, caging her in. “I am turning down all the dates. My mother is furious. You’ll have to answer to her”. 

“Me?”

“It's your fault. I can’t think of anything other than your lips on mine.”

“Try,” she says breathlessly. 

The moment is disrupted by a ringing sound as Kang Mari steps into the other side of the glass, and it reverts to being a mirror once again.

“Break is over” she jumps to the other side of the table and puts the earpiece on. 

“So what now? Pretending these last minutes didn’t happen? That your police friend didn’t punch me? Business as usual?”

“Yes. And I’m not defending violence, but what you said to him… That was a low blow, attacking his personal life.” 

“I can’t believe this. Low blow?” he gets up and paces angrily. “You’re the one to talk?” he gets angrier “You kissed me. It doesn’t get more personal than that.”

“Sit down.”

“What? Your colleagues don’t know how you got me in cuffs? You crossed the line first and you’re mad that it’s not going your way.”

“Twelve people were arrested in the FUKI Gallery in connection to the attempted theft of the Di Oro plaque, with an estimated value of 4 billion won.”

“As you can attest to, I have an alibi.”

“Two of these men”, she puts the mugshots in front of him, “Kang Bon Ju and Luo Jun Ki work in transport. You have worked with them in the past, correct?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m a curator, I select the pieces, the transport companies we use aren’t my responsibility. And I don’t know every single person who’s ever worked for me.”

“But they will surely remember you. So tell your version first.” At his silence, she continues. “We also found their phones and they’re being decrypted as we speak. So does yours.”

“You’re going to great lengths to see my browser history.”

“And there’s the fact that you gave me a hint about the target. These elements make a convincing case against you. Last chance to give your own version of the story, confess or you’ll rot in prison.” 

“There’s no red string.”

“What?”

“On your suspect board. Only photos and dates, no arrows pinning them to me.” The humor has vanished from his voice, now he’s in full control. “You arrested these men for the robbery but not a single piece of evidence connects them to me, so you have nothing to charge me with. You can’t prove I was involved, only that I was in some a different museum at the time of the robbery, which is, my ing job. No money trail, no receipts. Even if you got a warrant to search my house and office, you’d still find nothing. If you don’t charge me with a crime, you are obligated to release me 12 hours after the arrest. And given that you’ve kept me all night -without my lawyer despite my constitutional right to one- you’re running out of time. You’re betting on a confession, which even if I was dumb enough to give you, would be worthless after a cop beat me. You have nothing on me and I am walking out of here.”

Stunned silence echoes but she’s boiling inside. 

“That’s not true-”

“Ask the voice in your ear.”

They are betting on his cooperators snitching on him. 

“Captain?”

Static crackles and her panic surges like an electric current. 

“We offered them deals but none of the guys gave him up.”

He finally looks serene, as if this was his plan all along.

“He’s free to go.”

—

Next day a vase of decadent carnations greets her on her desk. Vibrant crimsons, rich purples, and deep blues, with a s

ingle lotus flower crowning the bouquet. She's never been given flowers like these, unusual and mysterious. 

She plucks the small black card from the mist. 

Where’s your crown, Matilda?

With a furious howl, she launches the vase across the room smashing on the board.

—----