Chapter 42

Chapter 42. The Broken Lead

The garbage dumpling scandal was all because of revenge against his ex-wife?

Harok sat there, turning Hong Yunjung’s words over in his head.

At first glance, the pieces seemed to fit.

And yet the whole scenario still felt forced.

Trying to connect Sergeant Park Junhyeong’s death to that motive was even more of a stretch.

No matter how badly Hyeon Yeongmo wanted revenge on his ex-wife, would he really go as far as hiring someone to kill?

This wasn’t Russia or Mexico.

That was taking things too far.

Maybe Park Junhyeong’s suicide had nothing to do with the dumpling scandal.

But no matter how much Harok dug around, he couldn’t find any other reason for Park to kill himself.

And even the dumpling scandal didn’t seem like enough.

Park Junhyeong had felt some guilt toward the dumpling companies, yes.

But not enough to end his own life.

Harok sat restlessly in the office, then checked the clock and abruptly stood.

It’s already five.

He had an appointment at six with Park Junhyeong’s wife, Choi Yunjin.

Harok intended to try approaching Hyeon Yeongmo’s side too, but for now he planned to start with Park Junhyeong and work his way upward.

Even if Park had nothing to do with Hyeon Yeongmo, there was no denying his death felt suspicious.

Finding out what really happened was more than worthy of investigation for a reporter.

At first, Choi Yunjin had firmly refused to meet him.

Harok only managed to persuade her after explaining that there were suspicious circumstances surrounding her husband’s death.

He went directly to her home.

He had suggested meeting outside, but Choi Yunjin said she was uncomfortable going out and invited him over instead.

Since he had the opportunity to see the house, Harok decided to look through some of the belongings Park had left behind.

“Hello.”

Choi Yunjin had suddenly lost her husband.

Without makeup, her face looked even paler.

Park Junhyeong and Choi Yunjin had a son and a daughter.

He was said to have been a devoted father who played with his children whenever he had spare time.

That matched what his coworkers had told Harok.

After the children were born, Park’s entire life had revolved around them.

“He would never leave his family behind and kill himself.”

Choi Yunjin said it without a moment’s hesitation.

There was even a kind of determination in her eyes.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m his wife. How could I not know? If you include the years we dated as students, I knew my husband for fifteen years.”

Choi Yunjin pulled a document envelope from the corner of the sofa and placed it on the table.

Inside was a set of plane tickets.

“What are these?”

“We were going to take the kids to New Zealand during summer vacation. It was going to be our first overseas family trip. We were all looking forward to it so much...”

That matched what Harok had already learned.

He examined the tickets.

It was a full-package tour for a family of four.

Comparing the dates, Park had died only two weeks before their scheduled departure.

“Was your husband suffering a lot because of the dumpling scandal?”

“No. He was convinced he had done the right thing.”

“Was he always the type who couldn’t tolerate injustice?”

“That personality is exactly why he left his company job, took the police exam, and became an officer.”

Someone who actively stepped forward when faced with injustice.

Rather than guilt toward the dumpling companies, he had taken pride in believing he was carrying out justice.

“Did your husband have any debts?”

“Debts?”

“For example, stocks, or gambling...”

Choi Yunjin gave Harok a bitter smile, as though she didn’t even have the energy to get angry.

“He hated the idea of getting rich overnight. You could say he had a firm belief that people should earn money by working hard.”

“S-Sorry.”

Harok quickly apologized.

“It’s okay. Sometimes that side of him was frustrating. Other people bought the right apartment and became worth billions of won... while we still haven’t escaped living on jeonse.”

Park Junhyeong seemed to have been both a genuinely upright police officer and a family man who lived strictly by the book.

“Was there anything strange about him that morning?”

“Nothing at all.”

The decisive reason police had treated Park Junhyeong’s death as suicide was the handwritten note.

There were also no signs of external injury.

After writing a heartfelt apology to the dumpling companies and the public, he had supposedly burned charcoal briquettes inside his car and taken his own life.

“Did you see the note?”

“Yes.”

“Was it your husband’s handwriting?”

“...Yes.”

Choi Yunjin answered so quietly he could barely hear her.

“But something is wrong. My husband would never simply leave our children behind and kill himself.”

The moment she said it, she began to sob.

Even with a suicide note, when the family was this adamant...

It felt as though the police had closed the case far too quickly.

No matter how Harok looked at the circumstances, Park Junhyeong had no reason to kill himself.

And yet he had written a note and committed suicide?

First, Harok needed to identify the people who had gone fishing with him that day.

“Your husband went fishing often. Do you know the people he usually went with?”

“Fishing? He was active in a fishing club, but I hated fishing so much that I don’t know any of those people.”

Park Junhyeong was a fishing fanatic.

He had been active in the club for years and had even served as its secretary.

After getting married and having children, he became less active.

“Once the kids started kindergarten and things got a little easier, he began attending the club again last year.”

“How often did he go?”

“It wasn’t easy with the kids. Maybe once every two months?”

“So not that often.”

As far as Harok knew, serious fishing enthusiasts started getting restless every Friday.

Once every two months was a perfectly reasonable hobby.

“We fought about it a lot. Once every two months was the compromise we finally reached.”

If a fisherman actually kept that promise, then Park Junhyeong really was a family man.

“Do you know who he went fishing with in February this year?”

“We didn’t talk about fishing.”

Choi Yunjin clearly had suffered plenty because of the hobby.

There was irritation in her voice every time the subject came up.

“Could I look at your husband’s phone?”

“The police took it as part of the investigation. They still haven’t returned it.”

They already decided it was suicide. Why haven’t they returned his phone?

“Did you ask for it?”

“Yes, but they just keep saying the investigation is still ongoing.”

After finishing the conversation, Harok looked through Park Junhyeong’s belongings.

There was an album containing only photographs from fishing trips.

Harok began searching for pictures from Bongam Fishing Site.

Unfortunately, the album ended with photos from October of the previous year.

“Were these taken with a separate camera?”

“No. He took them on his phone and printed them later. Why?”

“There aren’t any from Bongam Fishing Site in February.”

“They’ll be on his phone. Whenever he went fishing, he always took commemorative photos.”

It looked like Harok would need access to Park Junhyeong’s phone before he could dig any deeper.

“Oh, right.”

Choi Yunjin suddenly opened the pantry beside the kitchen and began searching through it.

A moment later, she pulled out a sheet of paper.

“He once told me this was an emergency contact list in case I couldn’t reach him while he was fishing.”

Bingo.

The list contained phone numbers for the fishing club president and other key members.

That night, Harok managed to contact the president of the fishing club.

His name was Mun Sangyeol, a restaurant owner in his mid-sixties.

He said Park Junhyeong’s death had shocked him too, and that he had attended the funeral.

“He was never the type to kill himself.”

“If it was murder, can you think of anyone who might have held a grudge against him?”

“He was a cop, so sure, he could’ve made enemies. But killing a police officer?”

If someone had murdered Park out of revenge, would they really have gone to this much effort to stage it as suicide?

“Then doesn’t suicide seem more likely?”

“No. He loved his family too much. He was incredibly responsible. All he ever talked about was his kids.”

Everyone around Park Junhyeong said the same thing.

He had no reason to commit suicide.

Had Go Ungseok’s investigative team even properly interviewed the people around him?

A little reporting was enough to make suicide difficult to accept.

And yet the police had hurriedly concluded it was suicide and closed the case.

“President Mun, sorry to ask, but could you tell me who Sergeant Park usually hung around with in the club?”

“The ones he was close with were Kim Yosam, Lee Ujun, Jin Gyeongpil, guys like that. Want their numbers?”

“Yes. I’d appreciate it.”

After getting the numbers, Harok called all three.

Lee Ujun and Jin Gyeongpil hadn’t been on the February fishing trip.

That left Kim Yosam.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Baek Harok from Daehan Daily.”

“Uh, yes.”

It was the usual reaction people had when suddenly contacted by a reporter.

“...Did you go fishing with the late Sergeant Park in February?”

“February? You mean when Junhyeong found that garbage dumpling factory?”

Okay.

Finally.

This was one of the people who had been there.

“You went to Bongam Fishing Site that day, right?”

“Ah, yes. Yes.”

“Who suggested going there?”

“Hmm. Who was it...? Either Dongu or Mr. Kang Chiwan.”

One man he called Dongu.

The other, Mr. Kang Chiwan.

“Who is Kang Chiwan?”

“Ah, I met him for the first time that day. He was someone Dongu knew. Said he was an office worker.”

An office worker?

Harok felt something click.

This Kang Chiwan seemed like he might be holding an important key.

“Do you know what company he worked for?”

“It was some electronics company... Not one of the big ones we know, like Oseong Electronics or TS Electronics.”

If you excluded those two from Korea’s electronics industry, you were mostly left with small and midsized companies making things like radios and earphones.

Or perhaps companies importing and selling foreign products.

“Wasn’t Mr. Kang the one who suggested Bongam Fishing Site?”

“Maybe... Ah, right. It was him. Kang hyung suggested it.”

Kang Chiwan, who had joined the group for the first time that day, had subtly steered them toward Bongam Fishing Site.

For fishermen, as long as the fish were biting, the location hardly mattered.

“Could I get his phone number?”

“I don’t have it. Dongu should.”

Through Heo Dongu, Harok obtained Kang Chiwan’s number.

Heo Dongu also sent him a photograph of the four of them taken at Bongam Fishing Site.

But Kang Chiwan was wearing a bucket hat and looking slightly downward rather than toward the camera.

It would be difficult to compare that image to his actual face.

“Are there any other photos?”

“No. There are plenty with the other three of us, but strangely, that’s the only photo with Kang hyung in it.”

Was he deliberately avoiding the camera?

Kang Chiwan was becoming more suspicious by the minute.

“His face is hard to make out in this.”

“Kang hyung wore black horn-rimmed glasses. He said he was forty-two this year.”

“Would you recognize him if you saw him in person?”

“He had a really ordinary face. The kind where if you walked through Gangnam Station, you’d probably see ten people who looked similar.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

Harok ended the call and immediately dialed Kang Chiwan’s number.

“Hello?”

A young girl answered.

She sounded like a middle school student.

“Sorry, isn’t this Kang Chiwan’s phone?”

“What are you talking about? No.”

“...This used to be my acquaintance’s number. Do you happen to know when you got this line?”

“Ugh, you’re annoying... I got it as an entrance gift this year.”

She had only just entered middle school.

If it was an entrance gift, then the number had been activated in March.

That meant Kang Chiwan had canceled his phone almost immediately after the fishing trip with Park Junhyeong.

That’s way too suspicious.

Harok called Heo Dongu again.

He asked everything he could about Kang Chiwan.

But Heo Dongu barely knew anything about him either.

“He was a new member who joined the club at the end of last year. He asked to come along, so we went together maybe twice.”

“Have you seen him since February?”

“No.”

“Do you keep in contact?”

“We weren’t close enough to call regularly. We’d just message if there was something to talk about.”

Harok felt as though he had hit a wall.

If even Heo Dongu knew nothing about him, then the trail leading to Kang Chiwan had been completely severed.

Kang Chiwan.

Who the hell are you?