The Prosecutor’s Office’s Proposal Chapter 42

“Officer Lee, ask the administrative assistant to send this to the Forensics Department. The DNA test results for the Koryo-in are still on file, so they should be able to run a comparison.”

“Yes, Prosecutor.”

“And for now, Officer Lee, take the statement. I’ll go apply for a warrant in the meantime.”

“Yes, understood. Uh… Mister. Please step back outside for a moment. Would you like me to make you a cup of instant coffee?”

“That would be appreciated.”

After guiding the grandfather to the chair in front of my desk, I returned to the inner office. I closed the door tightly.

While I was standing in the corner making coffee, Prosecutor Joo’s sigh fluttered over and landed on my back. Having been tempered by frequent scolding over the past few months, I spared him the trouble of speaking directly.

“Since he’s an elderly person, it’s fine to make him some coffee.”

“For a man who confessed to abandoning a body?”

“If he were dragged in by police, that would be one thing, but he turned himself in. It’s not like he’s a murderer.”

“He could have committed murder, too.”

“By feeding a lethal dose—a thousand times the standard—of Philopon to a man over 180cm tall?”

I stirred the soft brown liquid, melting the granules that were still floating on the surface. I asked Prosecutor Joo, who was behind me.

“Prosecutor, do you actually believe that Mister’s statement?”

“No.”

The reply that came back was clean.

“Do you believe it, Officer Lee?”

“No.”

“I would have been disappointed if you said you did.”

The presence behind me stood up and approached me, pressing his body close. His large palm gripped one side of my waist without hesitation. Surprised by the forward action, I nearly spilled the coffee, but I tensed my wrist and barely prevented it.

Prosecutor Joo gave his instructions without much agitation. His voice, heard near the helix of my ear—perhaps he had bent down—was as intimate as the brushing of shirt sleeves.

“Take the statement as a formality. I’m going to look into what the old man’s children do for a living.”

“Yes, Prosecutor.”

Beneath the thin skin of my lips as I answered, a fine vein throbbed and jumped.

Why on earth does he grab my waist? He asked if I wasn’t bothered by sharing cigarettes, so is grabbing my waist really nothing to him? Does he do this to Chief Song when they’re alone, too?

But… for some reason, I didn’t think he would do that to Section Chief Song Haneul.

“And I’m going to indict him for abandoning a body. Since he’s elderly and didn’t commit the murder himself, the sentence will be short. If he lives as a model prisoner, he’ll be paroled soon enough.”

“Indict him?”

I was startled. We hadn’t even used the lie detector yet, and the questioning had only just begun; it made no sense to decide on an indictment already. Coupled with the fact that we had eventually dropped the charges in the Oh Jahyeon case—even though it was unavoidable—my respect for Joo Taeson cracked for the first time.

The feeling was similar to looking at Prosecutor Joo through a mirror that had been split down the middle. The man I had respected and the man who was willing to indict someone without even believing their statement were separated into two, failing to overlap.

“You said you don’t believe his statement. Why are you indicting him?”

“Officer Lee, why do you think we don’t believe the Mister’s statement?”

“That is…”

“That is because we are suspicious of the person who turned themselves in for the Grandma Park icepick murder case. If we hadn’t been suspicious of that case, we wouldn’t have wavered just because another miner showed up. In other words, it is merely our suspicion and excessive speculation. Can’t you see the situation objectively?”

“…”

“Koryo-in Mr. Kim’s DNA will show up on this blanket. It must, because the real culprit wouldn’t have sent him here otherwise. He confessed to dumping the body himself, and the blanket even came out as evidence; I cannot not indict him. Objectively, he is guilty.”

Now that I heard it, everything Prosecutor Joo said was correct. When a person who turned themselves in appears with clear evidence, refusing to indict them based solely on suspicion is nearly impossible under the prosecution’s structure, which manages a prosecutor’s case processing rate. Unless one catches the real culprit within a few days or higher-ups are colluding to manipulate the case.

“I should take this opportunity to manage my performance record, too. I’ve been getting all sorts of abuse from the Chief Prosecutor of the 1st Division for stalling the Koryo-in unattended death case.”

“…What about the lie detector?”

“That’s for your sake and mine, Officer Lee. To gain the momentum to hunt for physical evidence like crazy, just as you said. You know the lie detector has no evidentiary value in court anyway. Why are you being like this between pros?”

“That Mister is small. Koryo-in Mr. Kim weighed over 80kg. Even if he moved him with a cart, it doesn’t make sense. And there’s no reason to dump a body he didn’t even kill himself. If DNA really does come out of that blanket, the real culprit is someone else, and he’s either taken the fall or at least played the role of an accomplice.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? I’ve thought about these cases much more than you have, Officer Lee.”

“…”

“And that Mister isn’t an accomplice. There is a separate real culprit.”

Prosecutor Joo erased the hypothesis I had put forward without a moment’s hesitation.

If he were an accomplice, at least he would have shared in the sin. But if the real culprit was someone else and he had appeared after being instigated by that person, it meant an innocent old man was going to prison. Even though I still couldn’t understand Prosecutor Joo’s decision to indict while being certain that the real culprit existed, I knew it was unavoidable in reality, so I asked back with an expressionless face.

“The real culprit. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“Well… who knows.”

It seemed he was going to try another Zen-like conversation, so I pressed my lips tightly into a straight line. The question Prosecutor Joo sent flying my way next was far beyond my expectations.

“Officer Lee, do you have a date this evening?”

“Why are you suddenly bringing that up…”

“I asked if you have a date this evening. Answer me.”

“I’ve told you how many times that I don’t have a lover…”

“Then go with me.”

My hand, which had been continuously stirring the paper cup where the granules had already dissolved, stopped in surprise. Prosecutor Joo said as he moved away, uncoupling his body which had been nearly half-overlapping with mine.

“Officer Lee will be getting off on time for once. Let’s head out together at seven.”

The official clock-out time for the Prosecutor’s Office was 6:00 PM. I wanted to correct him, but since I hadn’t left before 8:00 PM once since moving to this investigation office, I decided to settle for calling it “getting off on time.”

‘Who asks someone to eat dinner together like that?’

Pulling myself together, I went outside first. I set the paper cup down in front of the grandfather and pressed the back of my hand against my heated cheeks and neck. I wondered if I was catching a cold; a fever was rising for no reason.

Prosecutor Joo, who followed me out of the office, stared at me and observed me intently, so I awkwardly moved my hand away from my face and handed the blanket to the administrative assistant.

“I’m sorry, but could you send this to the Forensics Department? Please request a DNA test. See if it matches Koryo-in Mr. Kim.”

“Yes, I understand.”

As Officer No put the blanket into a large evidence bag and looked up the case number to write it down, Prosecutor Joo added:

“Tell them it’s urgent and mention my name. They’ll do it quickly.”

“Yes, Prosecutor. I’ll be right back.”

Once the administrative assistant left the investigation room, I sat across from the grandfather and pulled up the interrogation record on the monitor.

“Now, Mister, I will begin writing the interrogation record. Please start by telling me your name and date of birth.”

“Jeong Gapbae. Born January 1st, the year of liberation.”

After typing in January 1, 1945, I asked about his hometown, occupation, and family relations. His wife had died of a stroke a year ago, and he had only one son.

“What is the monthly revenue of your inn?”

“Do I have to say things like that, too? After this and that are deducted, a million won falls into my hands.”

“The income is a bit low, so it must be hard to make a living. Does your son help you?”

“That child has a wife and twins, so it’s hard for him to help. A million won is enough for an old man to make a living with odd jobs.”

The grandfather answered quite readily for someone who had turned himself in.

The questions moved on to the circumstances of abandoning the body in earnest. The more I asked in detail, the more it became clear that the story, which had sounded plausible when heard roughly, lacked detail. No matter what I asked, he gave similar answers, so I thought it would be better to use the lie detector as Prosecutor Joo had suggested.

“Just a moment. Let me summarize what you said.”

I sent a message to Prosecutor Joo, pretending to summarize the grandfather’s statement.

I would like to use the lie detector even if you indict him.

I was going to do it anyway. If the grandfather says he won’t agree, we can just get a warrant.

You said you were going to indict him, so I was worried you might change your mind.