Chapter 81: The Eighth Case (3)
Days have passed since we discovered Kim Yoon-jeong's body, and the initial surge of activity has given way to a frustrating lull. The office is thick with tension and fatigue as our team grapples with the lack of progress.
Seo paces back and forth in front of the evidence board, his face etched with lines of worry and exhaustion. "Run it down for me again," he says, his voice tight with frustration.
I stand up, moving to the board. "We've got the shoe size and approximate weight of our suspect. We've checked every sporting goods store in a 50-mile radius, cross-referenced online purchases, but nothing's panned out. The shoes are rare, but not impossible to get."
Officer Kim chimes in, "We've interviewed everyone associated with the mountain and the tomb. No solid leads there either."
"And the symbol?" Seo asks, though we all know the answer.
I shake my head. "Still nothing. The NFS team has run it through every database they have. No matches to any known cult symbols, gang signs, or religious iconography. It could be completely random for all we know."
Seo slams his hand on the desk, startling everyone. "It's not random," he growls. "None of this is random. We're missing something."
The room falls silent. We're all feeling the pressure, the weight of a grieving family and a frightened community looking to us for answers we don't have.
As I'm poring over the case files once again, my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen and feel a surge of surprise and warmth - it's Han. Without hesitation, I answer.
"Inspector Han," I say, unable to keep the smile from my voice.
"Hey there," Han's familiar voice comes through, sounding relaxed despite his situation. "Just calling to check in. How are you holding up?"
I lean back in my chair, grateful for the momentary distraction. "I'm doing alright. But how are you? I've been worried about you."
Han chuckles softly. "Don't worry about me. Everything will be alright. These things have a way of working themselves out."
There's a pause, and when Han speaks again, his tone is more serious. "Listen, I heard about how the team was treating you after... well, after everything that happened. I want you to know I had a word with Seo. Made sure he understood that kind of behavior isn't acceptable."
I feel a wave of gratitude wash over me. Even suspended, Han is still looking out for me. "Thank you, sir. That... that means a lot."
"Don't mention it," Han says, and I can almost hear the shrug in his voice. "You're a good detective. You deserve to be treated with respect."
Suddenly, the office erupts into noise. I look up to see a flurry of activity, people rushing towards Seo's office. Something's happening.
"Han, I'm sorry, but I think we've got a new case coming in. I have to go," I say, already half out of my chair.
"Of course," Han replies. "Go. Do what you do best. And remember, I'm just a phone call away if you need anything."
"Thank you, sir. Really." I hang up, feeling a renewed sense of purpose as I make my way towards the crowd.
As I approach, I can hear snippets of conversation, see the tense expressions on my colleagues' faces.
The office falls silent as Seo begins to speak, his face grim and his voice tense.
"We've got a new case," he announces, his words cutting through the hushed atmosphere. "Two dead bodies, both children."
A collective gasp ripples through the room. Seo continues, his jaw clenched, "The similarities to Kim Yoon-jeong's case are... striking. The victims were found on a tomb, with an enigmatic drawing nearby. Just like before."
My blood runs cold as the implications sink in. This isn't an isolated incident. We're dealing with a serial killer.
"The location," Seo adds, his voice heavy, "is not far from where we found Kim Yoon-jeong."
The room erupts into a flurry of activity as everyone processes this information. Questions fly, theories are muttered, but Seo cuts through the noise with a sharp command.
"We're heading to the scene. Now. Every minute counts."
As we rush to gather our equipment and head out, I feel a mix of dread and determination settling in my gut. The killer has struck again, and we failed to stop them. But now we have another chance to catch this monster before they can claim more innocent lives.
As our vehicles screech to a halt at the scene, we're greeted by the sight of local police officers already swarming the area. The flashing lights of their cruisers paint the somber scene in alternating hues of red and blue.
Seo steps out of the car, and a local officer immediately approaches him. Their faces are grim as they exchange words, the weight of the situation evident in their postures.
"We've got something this time," Seo announces as he turns back to us, his voice a mix of anticipation and dread. "They caught the suspect on CCTV."
A ripple of excitement runs through our team. Finally, a solid lead. Seo pulls out his tablet and beckons us closer. We huddle around, eager to see this crucial piece of evidence.
The footage is grainy, but clear enough to make out a large figure moving purposefully through the frame. Just as the NFS analysis suggested, the man is big - easily matching the 100kg estimate. However, his face is obscured by a mask, denying us the clear identification we'd hoped for.
"Damn," I mutter under my breath. So close, yet still so far.
Seo pockets the tablet and addresses us again, his voice somber. "The victims are siblings. They left school around 5 PM and didn't return home. Their parents reported them missing at 8 PM."
He pauses, his eyes scanning our faces before continuing, "Given the proximity to Kim Yoon-jeong's case, the local police reacted immediately. But..." He doesn't need to finish the sentence. We all know it wasn't soon enough.
"Sir, may I have a closer look at that CCTV footage?" I ask Seo.
Seo nods, handing me his tablet. "Of course. See if you can spot anything we might have missed."
Grateful for the opportunity, I find a quiet spot away from the bustle of the crime scene and begin to meticulously go through the footage. The suspect appears here and there, a hulking figure moving through the shadows, but his face remains frustratingly obscured.
As I watch the footage over and over, something starts to nag at me. A pattern begins to emerge, and suddenly, it clicks.
I rush back to Seo, my heart pounding with the excitement of potential discovery. "Sir, I've noticed something strange," I begin, my words tumbling out quickly.
Seo turns his full attention to me, eyebrows raised. "What is it?"
"The suspect," I explain, pointing to the tablet screen, "he only ever shows up in the narrow alleys. He never walks on the main road. But the children were on the main road when they disappeared."
Seo's brow furrows as he processes this information. "So you're saying he lured them into the alley?"
I nod vigorously. "Yes, but that's not all. Look at the layout of this village," I gesture around us. "Not all the alleys are connected. At some point, to move any significant distance, you have to use the main road."
Seo's eyes widen as he grasps the implication. "So how did he manage to kidnap and move two children without ever being seen on the main road?"
"Exactly," I confirm, feeling a mix of triumph and unease. "It doesn't make sense. Unless..."
"Unless what?" Seo prompts, leaning in closer.
"Unless he knows this area intimately. Maybe there are routes we don't know about. Underground passages, or connections between buildings that aren't obvious from the outside."
Seo straightens up, a new determination in his eyes. "Good work. This could be the break we need." He turns to the team, raising his voice. "I want a complete map of this area. Every alley, every building, every possible route. If there are hidden passages, we need to find them."
Back at the office, the hum of computers and murmur of voices fill the air as our team works tirelessly on the case. I've settled at my desk, eyes fixed on my computer screen as I delve into the criminal records of the area.
Given the suspect's intimate knowledge of the village layout, I'm convinced they must have a strong connection to the place. Either they're a current resident, a former long-term inhabitant, or someone who's spent significant time there.
As I scroll through records, cross-referencing names with addresses and timelines, Manson's voice suddenly erupts in my mind, accompanied by a mocking laugh.
"Oh, piggy," he cackles, his tone dripping with derision. "You're wasting your time."
As I continue sifting through the criminal records, Manson's mocking laughter and taunts persist, growing increasingly difficult to ignore.
"Wasting your time, piggy. Tick tock, tick tock..."
I try to focus on the screen, on the names and dates scrolling past, but Manson's voice seems to grow louder with each passing moment.
"You're looking in all the wrong places. Can't see the forest for the trees, can you?"
Finally, my frustration boils over. I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes, and think, "Fine. What do you mean? Why am I wasting my time?"
Manson's laughter subsides, replaced by a tone of smug satisfaction. "There you go, piggy. Finally asking the right questions."
I wait, my patience wearing thin. "Well?"
Manson's voice takes on a chilling, knowing tone as he speaks:
"Oh, piggy, you're not looking for some common thug. This suspect? They're squeaky clean. Probably the last person anyone would suspect. Think pillars of the community - the kind of person who volunteers at bake sales and helps old ladies cross the street. They've spent years building a perfect facade, blending in, being the model citizen.
That's how they move around unseen, how they gain trust. Your killer isn't hiding in the shadows. They're standing right in the spotlight, and everyone's too blind to see it."
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