The Past, Seoul

Park In Ho invited me out for drinks the day Da Mi Young’s empire toppled, forcing her to resign her position because of the scandal.

Typically we met at fancy bars close to his office or the courthouse, a matter of convenience for him, but I’d also assumed he had high standards and wasn’t willing to settle for an establishment that couldn’t offer the kind of whiskey you were meant to drink straight rather than hide in a cocktail. Most of the time he treated me even though Yun Seo paid me well enough for me to afford a few overpriced drinks, but In Ho had always gone out of his way where I was concerned, as if he felt responsible for me on some level. He had brought me into Yun Seo’s employ, after all, and sometimes I wondered if he regretted that decision.

My assumptions about his preferences were called into question entirely when he invited me to celebrate our victory at a place that sounded like a real hole in the wall. The bar was near the Chinese restaurant where we’d first met and was simply called “The Dive,” so at least it seemed to know what it was and wasn’t trying very hard to be anything else.

I decided to leave Yun Seo’s BMW at the hotel and take my bike to the bar. I didn’t want to be responsible for anything happening to his expensive car in that part of town, but I began regretting my decision when the weather turned cold and started spitting rain. I hurried inside after parking my bike, stomping my feet on the rug inside and smirking at the message woven into the indoor-outdoor carpet: this must be the place. 

Sidling my way through the crowd, I looked around as best as I could without jostling the other patrons, feeling as if I’d just hopped on the subway at rush hour. Clearly many people in the neighborhood took the message on the front door rug as fact. I finally spotted In Ho at a table in the corner, already two bottles deep in soju. 

“Going for the cheap stuff tonight, huh?” I asked as I slid into the booth across from him. 

“Sometimes you have to go old school,” he replied with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Opening up a third bottle, he offered to pour some for me.

Nodding, I pushed my glass toward him, wondering if I should order some beer to water down the soju if he was already drinking this intensely. “I figured we would be celebrating tonight.”

“We are. To Da Min Young finally paying for her crimes!” He grinned at me as he lifted his shot glass and downed it in one go.

Sipping my own drink, I watched a group of customers near the bar cheer as the team on the television scored a goal. “This isn’t your usual scene.”

A sad smile curved his lips as he looked around the bar at the raucous patrons and the garish, world-weary decor. “This is where I met my wife, believe it or not.”

“Really?” I tried to keep my tone light even though I was eager to learn more. 

“Her uncle owned the place back then, and she would earn money waiting tables on the weekends in college. One of my buddies lived in this part of town so we spent a lot of time here.”

I laughed. “That sounds similar to how we met,” I pointed out. 

Grinning, he tapped his glass against mine. “That’s true. I guess I have a soft spot for waiters.” Drawing a breath and releasing it, he tugged his tie to loosen it and leaned back in his seat. “I’m sure you’ve wondered what happened to her. You probably assumed I got a divorce or something. With my job, that’s not a bad assumption. Very few women are willing to stick with a guy who spends his days defending criminals.”

I considered my answer carefully and then decided to come out and say what I was thinking. “Yun Seo said that Da Min Young was responsible for her death.”

In Ho nodded, his lower lip trembling as he traced over the condensation on the bottle of soju with his thumb. “Ae Cha owned a jewelry business that catered to the elite. Custom, one-of-a-kind pieces she made with her own hands. Da Min Young was particularly fond of her work and began commissioning increasingly complicated pieces. Ae Cha had a suspicion that the jewels Da Min Young supplied for the work were illegally procured and eventually confronted her. The accusation alone was enough to make the woman go off the deep end. She’s insane.”

He poured himself another shot. “She had my wife followed and began making threats, trying to blackmail her into silence. She even applied pressure on me through my clients. Our firm represented several members of the Gihoe Society back then.” He drank the shot and stared off into space, his jaw tense and his lips twitching with emotion.

I waited, sensing that he needed time to prepare himself for whatever he was going to say next. I wasn’t sure I was prepared for it even though I knew something about how the story ended. I’d never seen In Ho look this fragile before and part of me wanted to reassure him somehow. Yet I was afraid he would stop talking and keep his story to himself if I did or said anything to distract him.

“I can’t prove that Da Min Young was responsible for the truck that hit my wife’s vehicle that day, but I know it was her doing. She’s done it before to her political enemies. Yun Seo could prove that much at least, although all of those cases are beyond the statute of limitations. He showed me the evidence the day I met him at my wife’s funeral, and I’ve been working alongside him ever since.”

In Ho told the story with the cool objectivity of a lawyer , but I could see the pain in his eyes. I was shocked by the idea that Da Min Young had hurt others this way as well, but I also felt even more justified for the questionable things we’d done to catch her. “I’m sorry,” I said for lack of anything better to say. 

He nodded and swallowed hard, reaching into the collar of his shirt to retrieve a chain. A beautiful pendant hung from it, an intricate design made of wire and glass. It resembled a bird in a cage, but the place where the body of the bird was supposed to be appeared to be missing a jewel. Rubbing over the necklace fondly, he looked up at me. “This is the last piece Da Min Young commissioned from my wife.”

Eyes widening, I leaned forward to get a better look. “How did you get it?”

“Yun Seo bargained for it.”

“That’s why he met with her that night,” I said in realization. The meeting had made me nervous, not only because Da Min Young was the most dangerous member of the society we’d taken on so far, but also because Yun Seo had a bad habit of underestimating her. I’d been relieved when he came out of the meeting unscathed, but I hadn’t realized his intention. This wasn’t the first time he’d used a tactic like this, bargaining with some of the evidence we’d gathered while holding back the rest to use once he’d gotten what he wanted. In this case, what he’d wanted had really been what In Ho wanted. “It says a lot about your friendship that he would go that far for you.”

In Ho chuckled dryly. “He didn’t just do it for me. The gem that’s missing?” He pointed at the body of the bird. “He was after that himself.” Before I could ask any questions, In Ho changed the topic. “But enough about all of that. We’re here to celebrate, not dwell on the past.” He waved at the bartender for more soju, holding up his fingers for two bottles.

“How’s your family doing?” In Ho asked when he returned his attention to me.

I hesitated, remembering the argument I’d had with dad the other night. I couldn’t even remember the last real conversation I’d had with Chan Wook that hadn’t been about necessities. “They’re good,” I lied, and In Ho raised an eyebrow. I should have known better than to lie to a lawyer. Sighing, I admitted, “I’m worried about dad. Every time he comes back from one of his work trips he’s like a little kid who’s had too much candy, so full of energy and life that he can’t contain it all. After mom died, I didn’t think I’d ever see him that happy again.”

“You’re worried it won’t last,” In Ho concluded.

“I know it won’t. His grant runs out in a few weeks and I’ve known for a while now that he’s likely to sink into depression as soon as it’s over, but the depression has started earlier than expected. He’s all worked up about his research being used in ways he doesn’t condone.”

In Ho’s expression darkened, going distant in a way that I’d seen often on Yun Seo, but never on him. “Maybe it’s for the best that the grant is ending.”

I hesitated before responding, debating about asking the question currently burning a hole in my mind. The alcohol pushed me past that barrier with a confidence I didn’t usually have. “Do you know something?”

“No,” he said a little too quickly, hiding his eyes as he poured us both more soju. “But I’m very familiar with running away from grief. Once the project is over, he won’t be able to keep hiding.”

“You don’t know my dad,” I said bitterly. “Hiding from his problems is what he does best.”

In Ho sighed, reaching out to pat my arm on the table in reassurance, but the gesture did nothing for me, especially when I was so certain that he was still hiding something important.

“The grant was too good to be true in the first place,” I mused, hoping I could goad In Ho into revealing more if I kept talking. “The funders won’t even let him publish his findings. Apparently they want to keep it all to themselves. Even before he started talking about them taking advantage of it I knew something wasn’t right, but I can’t figure out how they could use research about folklore for anything nefarious.”

In Ho didn’t respond right away, a deep frown settling into his features when he met my eyes again. “Reminds me of a case our firm took on recently,” he said, every word carefully considered.

Playing along, I asked, “What kind of case?”

“A patent lawsuit. A musician was hired to create a collection of songs but the company that hired her refused to actually produce them. Turned out they had sold her work to someone in another country and they didn’t want to pay the musician royalties.”

I frowned as I took a sip of soju. “Do you think that’s what’s happening here?”

“Who knows? All I know is that they must be getting something out of it somehow. Who did you say funded this grant?”

A chill raced down my spine. “I don’t know.” I remembered asking my dad at the beginning about the funder, but he’d never said. “Some rich foundation.”

“Follow the money and I guarantee you’ll get your answer.”

I suddenly had the feeling I would recognize the answer, but that seemed impossible. What would the Gihoe Society possibly have to gain from folklore research?

“Now I have a serious question for you.”

Focusing on In Ho again, I frowned. “What is it?”

He pointed at me with his glass of soju and sloshed a little over the side. “What is going on between you and Yun Seo?”