WHAT YOU DON’T HAVE, STEAL
Darkness was spreading like squid ink in water over the windswept sea in the distance. It was noisy inside the seafood restaurant where the company dinner was being held, but no one was engaging in any real conversation. It was a place that gave the illusion of communication even as each person there was preoccupied only with what they personally had to say. Chanmin maneuvered his chopsticks, feigning like he was reaching for a piece of raw rockfish, but he had no appetite. After taking only the tiniest nibbles, he set down his chopsticks and shifted slightly to get up. That was when Professor Min from K University, who was seated next to him, drunkenly grabbed the hem of Chanmin’s pants, trying to pull him back down.
“Dr. Yang, where are you going? You didn’t even have that much to drink.”
Chanmin wiped the weary look from his face and put on a polite smile. “I’m just going to get some fresh air. I’ll be right back.”
He could only get out by crawling past all the old folks who had gotten unpleasantly tipsy. Here and there, people with familiar faces waved at him, and each time, Chanmin bowed his head and greeted them.
They all had used the conference as an excuse to shirk their work, and from the moment their flights from Seoul landed on Jeju, they had been holding all-day bacchanals starting early in the morning. This was nothing new, so Chanmin didn’t even feel jaded by it anymore. They would probably carry on like this tomorrow, and the day after that too.
He crossed the street outside the seafood restaurant and came to stand before the black rock beach. He took out a cigarette and tried to light it, but he had a hard time because of the wind. He gave up and was about to toss the cigarette to the rocks before he changed his mind and put it away again.
He took out his phone and checked Chakyung’s message again. All she’d written was Let’s sort this all out once you’re done with your conference presentation. I’ll contact you afterward that evening to meet up somewhere near the convention center. When the typhoon had cleared up earlier, he’d sent her a message asking if she was all right, to which he’d received this reply. The words “sort this all out” weighed on his mind, but this was a problem that could be resolved once they got back to Seoul. Chakyung was a person who meticulously planned out her life path, and Chanmin believed she wasn’t the type to change those plans at the drop of a hat. OK, let’s do that , was all he’d written in his reply.
But before that, there was something else he needed to handle. It wouldn’t take long. If he managed to wrap this up well, things should be smooth sailing with Chakyung too. He searched for the phone number he needed, then pressed the call button.
As if the person on the other line had been waiting for his call, it was answered right away. Chanmin tried to tamp down the anger welling up inside him and spoke in a calm, collected voice.
“What were you thinking? Acting like you knew me in a place with so many people around. What would you have done if someone had caught onto us?”
The person on the other end firmly stated there had been nothing overly familiar about their interaction. On the contrary, hadn’t Chanmin drawn other people’s attention by bringing that woman with him? The voice on the phone was ice-cold. It occurred to Chanmin that the owner of said voice might want to call off the deal.
“All right, I understand,” he said quickly. “That aside—I’ll do as I promised. You’re all set on your end, right?”
Almost everything was ready, the person on the other end said, so Chanmin had better just worry about upholding his end of the bargain.
He didn’t like this change in attitude, that domineering tone.
“Almost? What do you mean, almost?”
It was because the last thing to obtain couldn’t be kept for too long. If it was stolen too far in advance, it would be easy to trace. To Chanmin, this seemed reasonable enough.
After the call ended, Chanmin stared out for a while at the rolling sea. The thoughts inside his head were churning much like the ocean. He could borrow from Myungjin part of the money he would need to pay Honeyman. After he’d roughly explained the plan and mentioned he was doing business with global funding sources, Myungjin was able to pull together the money in advance. He had seemed interested in the product, too, and had asked if he could get a cut. He was the type who had cash in abundance and was pouring Dom Pérignon daily at the club. As soon as Chanmin received the product, he could directly wire the money from Myungjin’s paper company in Western Samoa, keeping him safe and completely out of the equation. He would hate having to see the haughty look on Myungjin’s face for doing him a solid, but he could tolerate that much.
It was a foolproof plan. According to what Honeyman had said, their guy still didn’t know about the existence of the product. Or, he once knew, but now he couldn’t remember. Having come down to Jeju to see for himself, Chanmin had determined that Honeyman was right.
He just needed to erase all evidence of his involvement like a typhoon that had swept through and vanished. He also couldn’t let Chakyung find out. Maybe he could use her to build his alibi. Chanmin grinned. Everything would work out. Just like it had been.
A rowdy burst of laughter and voices erupted from the seafood restaurant. Someone shouted an outdated toast “to grace, godliness, and intelligence!”
It was probably Professor Min. Chanmin remembered having seen him make the same toast at another company dinner. He’d felt like he had to laugh and remark on how funny it was. What a depressing, pathetic, and tiresome life Professor Min must have led, content with his worthless academic job. I won’t live like that anymore, Chanmin decided, watching the waves crash over the rugged black rocks.
“Dr. Yang? What are you doing here?”
The voice behind him pierced like a dagger. He turned around.
“How long have you been out here?” he asked.
Risa pulled off her hair band and shook out her jet-black mane. “For a while. You seemed like you were on a phone call, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”
An unpleasant itch crept over him. She couldn’t have heard what his call had been about, could she?
“Did you follow me when I stepped out?”
Risa raised her eyebrows. “Well, you were acting like you’d dusted your hands of me. Are you worried other people will see?”
He knew she caught on quickly and was good at piecing things together, but at present, that talent of hers annoyed him. “You know nothing good could come of any of the professors here seeing that you and I know each other. It’s best to be careful.”
He took out the cigarette he’d put back in his pocket earlier. He knew Risa hated when people smoked, so he lit it intentionally and exhaled, long and slow. Her face crinkled in distaste. She took a step back.
“For someone who’s so good at being careful,” she said, “how could you not notice when you’re being followed?”
Even his cigarette smoke seemed to pause in midair. “What?”
Risa took out some lip gloss from her pocket and applied it, pursing her mouth. “From the time you left that surf café or whatever, someone was following you. A black SUV.”
It was unthinkable. Had someone found out about his plans? Even if they had, could they figure anything out from that? The formula he’d so carefully devised began to waver.
One storm had passed, but the ocean was always holding yet another wind.
Risa smoothed out her hair, then turned on her heels, glancing back over her shoulder to toss one more comment his way.
“My extremely cautious friend. Be sure to always watch your back.”
Then she crossed the street, not at all concerned about the cars racing down the coastal road.