Case 1
December in Seoul. On top of precipitation. The cold was bone-deep, sharp enough to pierce through any layer of clothing.
Darkness had swallowed the city whole. Under the biting night air, the rhythmic flash of red and blue police lights and the relentless wailing of sirens had drawn a somber crowd to the banks of the Han River.
It was past midnight.A patrol officer hurried over, handing a ringing phone to Kang Tae-soo.
Tae-soo stood motionless, his long wool coat draped over his uniform. Under the harsh streetlights, his dark hair glistened with a light dusting of frost.
His face was a study in contrasts—sharp, disciplined features softened by eyes that held an unexpected, weary depth.
He surveyed the scene: the forensic team moving like shadows, his colleagues murmuring in the cold, and the onlookers huddled on the bridge above. He looked like a man holding his breath.
“Yes, Sir,” Tae-soo answered, his voice steady.
“This is the third one, Tae-soo! What is happening in this city? Three murders in one month! The higher-ups and the media are breathing down my neck. We haven’t found a single lead for the first two, and now this?”
Tae-soo remained silent. He didn’t look at the phone; he kept his eyes fixed on the tragedy before him.
“Tae-soo! Are you listening to me?”The Chief’s voice was a jagged blade of frustration that sliced through the cold, pulling Tae-soo back to reality.
“Sir, we’re doing everything we can,” Tae-soo replied, running a hand through his hair, brushing the damp, chilled strands from his forehead.
“As for the evidence you’re asking about—I gave it to you weeks ago. You dismissed it as irrelevant.”
A loud, violent thud echoed through the line—the sound of a fist slamming onto a desk.
“Are you blaming me ? Get to the Crime Investigation Bureau. Now!”
“But—
“Nothing else! Get here immediately!”
The line went dead.Tae-soo clenched his fist without a word and strode toward the crime scene. Just then, his colleague approached him with a digital report.
“The lab just ran the victim’s prints through the national database. It took a while to get a clear scan through the mud, but we’ve got a match.”
“Here, the information regarding the victim,” he said, before reading it aloud——
“Park Ji-hoon, 43 years old. Married with two daughters. He lived with his wife, and one of his daughters was studying at medical college.”
He turned off the tablet.
The rain was intensifying.
“Everyone, hurry! The weather is deteriorating. Work quickly before conditions worsen,” Tae-soo commanded in a firm voice. “Yes, sir,” the team answered together.
They proceeded as efficiently as possible. The wind was whipping through the site, and the forensic team stationed at the edge of the crime scene was encountering difficulties.
“What’s happening?” Tae-soo asked, observing the officer beside him.
“I am not sure,” he replied.
“What is the issue? Is there a problem here?” Tae-soo knelt beside the official to assess the challenges the team was facing.
“We’re having trouble marking the spot, sir” one woman replied. She turned to her colleague,
“Give me another tube.”
“What do you mean? Is there a problem with the marking?” Tae-soo turned his head and scrutinised the others.
“Sir, due to the torrential rain, the fluorescent markers aren’t effective; they keep washing away. At this rate, there won’t be a trace left by tomorrow,” the woman said, looking distressed.
The storm was exacerbating the situation. Tae-soo noticed the deep concern on her face.
“No problem. Is there another way to preserve it?”
“Not really, sir, but there is one alternative—”
“What is it?” Tae-soo asked intently.
“Waterproof markers. It is an archaic method, but we have no other choice. Once our documentation is complete, we will reassess when the weather clears.”
“We are attempting to shield the area from above to minimise the damage,” colleague said, looking at Tae-soo.
“Sigh, there is no other recourse, is there?”
“Uhm? How many do you require?” he asked the female officer.
“At least forty to fifty.”Tae-soo rose to his feet. Without another word, he signaled to the police officer standing nearby.
“Yes, sir,” the officer acknowledged and departed from the scene.
“Tae-soo, you should return to the Bureau; I will manage things here. The Chief is going to be furious if you don’t appear.”
It was Min-jun, his close friend and colleague, standing beside him.Tae-soo patted the tension from Min-jun’s shoulder.
“Even if I go now, I’m still going to get scolded, so what’s the point?” Everyone here is battling these harsh conditions and the storm; how could I leave you all to suffer alone?”
Just then, Tae-soo’s gaze landed on something glistening on the ground. He scanned the area; perhaps the others had overlooked it.
“I...” Min-jun started to speak, but Tae-soo silenced him with a gesture of his hand.Tae-soo inspected the spot thoroughly, and Min-jun followed his gaze.
“What is it?” They both moved closer and crouched down.Tae-soo gestured for someone to hand him a second pair of gloves, ensuring the evidence remained fully protected.
“It looks like metal, or gold. What is it?”
“Let me see.” Min-jun extended his hand, and Tae-soo placed the glittering fragment in his palm.
“It appears to be gold. A piece of raw gold.” They exchanged a heavy look, then stared back at the victim’s location.
“Come here,” Tae-soo signaled for someone to approach.
“Was anything gold discovered near the body?”
“No, sir. Nothing of that nature was found.”
“Did you inspect the area properly? Any jewelery or other items?” Min-jun asked for confirmation.
“No, sir. We searched thoroughly— nothing was recovered except for the wallet and the watch.”
They both looked at one another again.
“Fine. Bag it, and send this piece to the forensics lab so we can analyse it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Achoo!
“We are going to be ill for a few days at this rate,” Min-jun muttered.
