Chapter 99: The Flasher (4)
The task force works tirelessly, piecing together the puzzle of Jin Do-hoon's crimes. As we delve deeper into unsolved cases, cross-referencing them with the names from Jin's phone, two more victims emerge: Lee Soo-yeon and Park Ji-eun. Both were young women whose brutal murders had gone unsolved for months, leaving their families without closure and the police frustrated.
Han and I watch from the sidelines as the Gwangju team meticulously builds their case. While we're not directly leading the investigation, our presence seems to have spurred them to be more thorough than usual. Still, I can't help but notice the occasional inefficiency in their methods.
"They're cross-checking fingerprints manually?" I mutter to Han as we observe a junior officer painstakingly comparing prints. "Seoul's been using digital matching for years now."
Han nods, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "Different resources, different methods. We can suggest improvements later. For now, let's just be glad they're making progress."
The breakthrough comes when the team finally obtains a warrant to search Jin's house. As we arrive at the nondescript apartment building, I can feel the tension in the air. The Gwangju officers move with purpose, but there's a hesitancy in their actions that betrays their lack of experience with high-profile cases like this.
Inside Jin's apartment, the evidence we find is damning. Hidden in a false bottom of his closet, we discover a box containing items that send chills down my spine: jewelry that matches descriptions of items missing from the victims, a collection of newspaper clippings about the murders, and most disturbingly, a journal filled with detailed accounts of the crimes.
As the forensics team carefully bags and tags each piece of evidence, I catch snippets of Jin's writing. The clinical detachment with which he describes his acts is chilling. It's clear we're dealing with a highly organized and intelligent killer.
"Look at this," Han says, pointing to a series of dates in the journal. "These match up with three unsolved murders from the past year. The Riverside Strangler case."
I remember hearing about those murders. They had baffled the Gwangju police, with no apparent connection between the victims other than the location where their bodies were found.
As the pieces fall into place, I can see the mix of triumph and dismay on the faces of the Gwangju officers. They've cracked a major case, but the realization that such a dangerous predator had been operating under their noses for so long is clearly unsettling.
Throughout the search, I can't help but notice the occasional misstep or outdated procedure used by the Gwangju team. At one point, an officer almost contaminates a crucial piece of evidence before his colleague stops him. Another time, they waste precious minutes debating the best way to document the scene before Han gently suggests a more efficient method.
Despite these hiccups, the evidence gathered is overwhelming. As we leave Jin's apartment, the weight of what we've uncovered settles over us all. Three unsolved murders, now linked definitively to Jin Do-hoon.
***
From behind the one-way mirror, Han and I watch as the Gwangju team interrogates Jin Do-hoon. The suspect sits calmly, his posture relaxed despite the gravity of the situation. Across from him, two Gwangju detectives lean forward aggressively, their voices raised.
"We know what you did, you sick bastard!" one of the detectives shouts, slamming his hand on the table. "Confess now, and maybe the judge will go easy on you!"
Jin doesn't flinch. His eyes, cold and calculating, study the detectives with an almost clinical interest. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he says softly. "Perhaps you could be more specific?"
I feel my jaw clench as I watch the scene unfold. The detectives are making rookie mistakes, letting their emotions get the better of them and potentially giving Jin grounds for a coercion claim if this goes to trial.
"They're going about this all wrong," I mutter, unable to keep the frustration from my voice.
Han nods, his expression grim. "Old school tactics. They think they can break him with intimidation."
As the interrogation continues, it becomes clear that the Gwangju team is out of their depth. Jin deftly sidesteps their questions, occasionally poking holes in their logic that leave the detectives flustered and increasingly angry.
During a break in the interrogation, Han approaches Senior Inspector Cho, who's been watching the proceedings with a deepening frown.
"Senior Inspector," Han says carefully, "I was wondering if my colleague might be able to assist with the interrogation. He has extensive experience with high-profile cases like this."
Cho's eyebrows rise slightly, his gaze shifting to me. I can see the internal struggle playing out on his face – pride warring with the practical need to make progress.
After a long moment, Cho nods curtly. "Very well. Your detective can take the next round. But remember, this is still our investigation."
As we prepare to enter the interrogation room, Han pulls me aside. "Be careful in there," he warns. "Jin is clever, and he's had time to prepare. Don't let him get under your skin."
I nod, taking a deep breath to center myself. As I step into the room, I can feel Jin's eyes on me, assessing, calculating. I sit down across from him, maintaining eye contact but keeping my expression neutral.
"Mr. Jin," I begin, my voice calm and measured, "I'm Detective Park. I'd like to ask you a few questions about your recent activities."
Jin tilts his head slightly, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Of course, Detective. I'm always happy to assist the police."
As the interrogation begins in earnest, I can feel the weight of expectation from those watching behind the mirror. This is my chance to prove our worth to the Gwangju team and, more importantly, to get the answers we need to put Jin away for good.
I settle into the chair across from Jin, maintaining a calm demeanor despite the gravity of the situation. I begin with seemingly innocuous questions, building a rapport while carefully observing his reactions.
"Mr. Jin, you have an impressive background in computer science. What drew you to that field?" I ask, my tone conversational.
Jin's eyes light up slightly. "The complexity, the challenge. I've always enjoyed solving puzzles."
I nod, making a note. "Speaking of puzzles, we found some interesting folder names on your phone. Very organized. Do you apply that level of organization to all aspects of your life?"
A flicker of unease crosses Jin's face, quickly masked. "I prefer to keep things in order, yes."
"I see," I continue, smoothly changing direction. "You mentioned enjoying challenges. Have you ever found your daily life... lacking in excitement?"
Jin hesitates for a fraction of a second. "I'm not sure what you mean."
I lean forward slightly. "Well, some people with high intelligence often seek out... unique experiences to alleviate boredom. Have you ever felt that way?"
"I... suppose everyone feels that way sometimes," Jin replies cautiously.
I nod sympathetically. "Of course. And how do you usually deal with those feelings?"
Jin's composure slips slightly. "I have my hobbies."
"Interesting," I say, my voice neutral. "Could you tell me where you were on the evening of March 15th?"
The abrupt change throws Jin off balance. "I... I'm not sure. That was months ago."
"Really? Because your phone's location data puts you near Gwangju Park that night. The same night Lee Soo-yeon went missing. Quite a coincidence, don't you think?"
Jin's eyes widen almost imperceptibly. "I often take walks in that area. It doesn't mean anything."
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"Of course not," I agree.
I lean back in my chair, studying Jin's face carefully. His composure has slipped, but he's still holding onto his control. Time to push a little harder.
"You know, Mr. Jin," I begin, my tone conversational, "I couldn't help but notice how much you seem to enjoy puzzles and codes. It's quite impressive, really."
Jin's eyes flicker with interest, despite his attempt to remain impassive.
I continue, "We found quite a collection in your diary. Some really intricate stuff. Honestly, at first glance, I thought no one would be able to crack them."
A hint of pride crosses Jin's face before he can suppress it. I press on, seeing my opening.
"But you know what? I'm the one who cracked the codes for the names of the victims in your phone. Those folder names? Clever, but not unbreakable."
Jin's eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and what might be admiration flickering across his features.
"So those codes in your diary? It's just a matter of time before we crack those too. We're already making progress," I say, watching him carefully.
That's when it happens. Jin's carefully constructed facade crumbles for a moment. His lips part slightly, and he leans forward, unable to contain himself.
"You couldn't possibly..." he starts, then catches himself. But it's too late.
I lean in, my voice low and intense. "Couldn't possibly what, Mr. Jin? Couldn't possibly understand the intricate system you've created? The way you've cataloged your victims, your experiences?"
Jin's face goes pale, realizing his mistake. He's said too much, shown too much interest. In his desire to prove his intellectual superiority, he's inadvertently confirmed his guilt.
"I... I didn't mean..." he stammers, but the damage is done.
I stand up slowly, maintaining eye contact. "Thank you, Mr. Jin. You've been very helpful. I think we'll take a break now. Perhaps you'd like to consider your position while we continue to work on those codes."
As I walk towards the door, I can feel Jin's eyes boring into my back. The room is thick with tension – the unspoken admission hanging in the air.
I step out, closing the door behind me. In the observation room, I'm met with a mix of impressed and stunned looks from the Gwangju team. Han nods approvingly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Well done," he murmurs. "You got him to slip."
I nod, feeling a mix of satisfaction and unease and a glare from Senior Inspector Cho and his colleagues.