"Detective, have you heard of Jeffrey Epstein?"
"What's his connection to this?" Han Bo-young asked, her eyebrows furrowed, as she put the phone on speaker and hit record.
"East Asia is the world's most active sex trafficking hub. Approximately 50 billion dollars go into the industry annually. Korea is pretty low on the list compared to the rest of East Asia, but there's been a growing interest from foreign buyers in Korean women," Ryu Hye-ji stated and paused.
"I'm listening." Han Bo-young gestured to Song Min-ho to bring a pen and paper.
"Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. A lot of these buyers have rather interesting sexual preferences. If I can rape someone while they're conscious, but still meet no resistance, wouldn't that be more interesting?"
"I need a name, Hye-ji," Han Bo-young said.
"You're a detective. I'm sure you already have one in mind. Or a few, depending on how fast you are."
"These buyers—are they strictly East Asian or...?" She didn't need to complete the sentence.
"An African prince, once from Zimbabwe, met Senator Lim," Ryu Hye-ji answered instead.
Han Bo-young nodded. Ryu Hye-ji was trying to protect herself by giving such unclear responses.
"Tell me about T-S1," Han Bo-young probed.
"I don't know much about it."
"Is there something else I should know?"
"No."
"Alright. Thank you." Han Bo-young hung up first.
"I think her place in this case is not so cozy after all," Song Min-ho said.
"I found a chess piece at the crime scene with her fingerprints all over it. Ryu Hye-ji must have had direct contact with the killer," Han Bo-young narrated.
"A chess piece?" Song Min-ho asked, confused.
Han Bo-young reached into her jacket and took out the ziplock bag. She held it up against the light. Song Min-ho's eyes widened.
"Is that a Dubrovnik?" he asked.
"A what?"
Song Min-ho stretched his hand forward and held onto it. He observed the piece with a critical eye. "I'm not an expert. Either this is a Dubrovnik, an NOJ, or a replica. Either way, it's very rare."
"So what does that mean?"
"It means the killer is a very good chess player or is heavily interested in it," Song Min-ho explained.
"If it's that rare and important, why would the killer discard it at the crime scene then?"
Discarding a Dubrovnik that easily? Even Song Min-ho couldn't answer the question.
…
The sound of the shower blocked the noise of the ringing phone. Ryu Hye-ji walked out of the bathroom wearing a bathrobe. She grabbed the phone with wet fingers and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows, her eyes unfocused.
"Ryu Hye-ji," she stated into the phone.
"Yes." She nodded. "Alright." She hung up and, with a smack, closed the foldable phone.
She crossed her arms and walked closer to the window, leaving wet footprints on the floor. She momentarily stared out before walking to her closet. When the bathrobe fell to the floor, what was revealed was a back covered in burn scars and whip scars. She put on her underwear, her fingers grazing the bumps of her scars. The scars were sensitive. She stared into the mirror as she donned herself in the black suit, her eyes calm and cold.
She opened her jewelry drawer searching for earrings when her eyes caught a necklace. It was made of differently colored pearls and some unique stones that gave one the feeling of being at a beach. It was beautiful. A self-deprecating smile painted her face as she took out the necklace and threw it in the bin forcefully.
Today was special. Lim Ji-won was organizing a press conference to address public concern over the death of his daughter. She had to be there as the grieving sister. She hooked the earrings on and slid on the ring. Within minutes, she had slathered on some makeup and was in the kitchen, sipping matcha tea.
She placed the mug on the piano and sat down. She placed her middle finger on a key and pushed down, lingering on it for a second. Then she started playing. It was neither fast nor slow. The tune was just right—enough to touch the soul.
"Hye-ji. Do you know I woke up last night starved, but you were asleep?" She recalled Yoon-a's voice. "What was I supposed to do? I needed you."
"You're so beautiful," Yoon-a said as she ran her hands through Ryu Hye-ji's hair. "And better than that crazy girl, Mone. I love her too, though." Yoon-a cupped Hye-ji's face.
"You're a good girl. If Mone was more submissive, I'd be more kind."
"Pity me, Yoon-a," Ryu Hye-ji said, her voice hoarse and dead. Her eyes were hollow and without any light.
"Say 'pity me, mommy'," Yoon-a replied.
"Pity me, mommy," Ryu Hye-ji said.
"My good girl," Yoon-a said, hugged onto her head, and burst out laughing. She sounded overjoyed.
Later that day, at school, Yoon-a assumed her characteristic depressive state, while Ryu Hye-ji played around with friends like the happiest person alive. Appearances. Pathetic. Yoon-a was genuinely depressed. Ryu Hye-ji was depressed too, but knew very well how to mask it.
Dong!
The noise of the key resounded throughout the living room. She stopped. That was her sign to leave. Lim Ji-won was moving fast. She needed to stay ahead of him.
...
The cameras flashed. There was white noise and the shuffle of journalists trying to orient themselves. The doors to the room being pulled open silenced the press. The sound of footsteps reverberated around the hall as Senator Lim walked in with his entourage. The shutters of the cameras started clicking loudly.
Choi Geon-woo was watching from his tiny apartment, his face gloomy as Senator Lim began his address.
"Good day, lovely citizens. I haven't been able to speak for a while because my household was mourning the loss of my lovely daughter. My daughter was the best thing that ever happened to my wife and myself..."
Ryu Hye-ji stood behind him in the entourage, her face blank.
"Senator Lim, the public wants to know who is behind this murder," a journalist raised her hand and said.
"The police are working on it, and soon my daughter's killer will be brought to justice."
"Do you have anyone in mind?" another asked.
"I can't lay allegations on any citizen without evidence."
"Yoon-a was reportedly missing for about three days before she was found deceased. Why was there no effort by you to find her? Perhaps she might have been saved," another journalist probed.
"I agree there was negligence on my part and my wife's part. But my daughter was a grown adult and also a celebrity. There was rarely ever any space on her schedules. We assumed she was just on one of her many trips," Senator Lim replied. "I wish I'd just called her," he added, beginning to sound tearful.
"Senator, the public shares your pain too. We all want justice. We're eager to know the progress of the case."
"Any progress on the case will be communicated to you."
"Haiyang Hotel has refused to say anything about the murder. Do you believe Haiyang should be facing legal charges or at least release an apology for negligence?"
Ding!
Everyone collectively received a message. They raised their phones.
"I hate Yoon-a. I want her dead. I heard she was going to be back for a while. Yeah. She's staying at Haiyang Hotel?" Choi Geon-woo's voice sounded.
Choi Geon-woo stared at his screen in disbelief.
Ryu Hye-ji, who had stepped away to use the bathroom, washed her hands at the sink. She turned to leave when her eyes caught onto something on the sink. It was an envelope—a small white envelope with the picture of a black pawn drawn on it. She picked it up, confused, and opened it. There were only three words written on it: help me, Hye-ji.
"Help me, Hye-ji."
"Help me, Hye-ji."
"Help me, Hye-ji."
Yoon-a's desperate voice resounded in her head.
She screamed.