Chapter 21 Monroe #2
“Because justice matters, even when it’s late,” I answer smoothly. “I’m sure you would agree, would you not, Detective Im?”
“Don’t call me detective. I’ve been retired for eleven years. I left that life behind.”
“But that doesn’t mean the cases that did go unsolved should necessarily remain that way. The Seo family may no longer be alive, but their son is. He deserves some answers. He was just a little boy when it happened, and he’s spent his whole life not knowing who killed his parents and why.”
His eyes narrow, crinkling even more at the edges. He takes a long sip of his coffee as if stalling to think over what I’ve said. It’s when he sets it down that he answers.
“The case went cold,” he says plainly. “That happens sometimes. We followed every lead. There was nothing more we could do.”
“Is that true?” I lean forward, holding his gaze.
“Because from what I’ve found, there were rumors about a group called the Hyeonmudan.
It was thought they had something to do with it.
None of that was ever followed up on, was it?
The case file just... stops. Like someone hit a wall and decided not to climb over it. ”
His face goes pale, and he looks away. For a small moment I’m sure he’s about to get up and walk out.
Instead, he releases a belabored sigh and closes his eyes like he’s too exhausted otherwise.
“The case didn’t go cold,” he admits. “It was buried. A… a man came to see me. I never got his name. Never saw his face clearly—he was careful about that. But he made it very clear what would happen to my family if I didn’t close the case and walk away.”
My pulse jumps in alarm. “What did he say?”
“He said…” Detective Im glances around us as if paranoid the man might be eavesdropping even now.
“He said ‘Seo Jung-hoon took everything from me, so it was only fair I did the same.’ He paid me more money than I’d ever seen in my life, and he told me that if I ever spoke about it, my wife and children would end up like the Seo family. ”
“Oh wow,” I whisper under my breath. “That’s… I’m sure that was very startling.”
“A man like him—someone from that gang—he could make it happen,” Detective Im explains cryptically. “There’s a reason they’ve always stayed hidden. No one knows about them like they do the other syndicates.”
It’s the extent of what he’s willing to offer. When I try posing another question, he vehemently shakes his head and mentions he must go. His wife is disabled and home alone, and he must return to her.
I thank him and leave the café with my mind full of puzzle pieces that haven’t clicked together yet.
Everything seems to point back to Jin’s father. Whatever Seo Jung-hoon did seems to have made the Black Shell determined to get revenge.
So determined he’s held a grudge for over thirty years.
Mom’s waiting for me when I get home, like I’m a teenager again and snuck out of the house to go to a party.
I walk through the door to the living room light suddenly flicking on and Mom revealing she’s been sitting in the dark waiting on me.
The TV’s off, and she’s in her robe and bonnet, fuzzy slippers on her feet. I stumble to a halt, surprised she’d bother.
I’m thirty, not thirteen. I don’t exactly have a curfew.
“You’re up late,” I say, sliding out of my flats. I place my purse down on the console table by the door and cross the room barefoot.
“I could say the same to you,” Mom counters. “Moni, it’s almost one in the morning.”
“Yeah, I know. My phone has a clock on it.”
“Don’t get smart with me. I was worried about you. This is the third night this week you’ve done this.”
I stop in the middle of the living room, my brows raising. “Mom, I’m a grown woman. You can’t tell me not to go out.”
“But I can be concerned when you do it alone!” she says. “Since when do you go out by yourself so late at night? Baby, don’t give me the runaround. I know you better than you know yourself—it’s not you, and in light of everything that’s happened…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means! You know what you’ve been through lately. How you… you haven’t been yourself.”
I shake my head, barely fighting off the urge to roll my eyes. “I’m dealing with it in my own way. Where do you get off judging me for it, Mom? After dad passed you were—you know what? It’s way too late to be arguing about this. I’m exhausted.”
“Moni… please…” She stands up from the sofa and pads over to intercept me, her brows knitted and a frown deepening on her face.
As soon as I look her in the eye, a pang of guilt hits me.
It occurs to me in some ways I’ve been doing to Mom what Jin’s done to me. Shutting down. Being avoidant and dismissive.
Jin and I weren’t the only ones who suffered a loss when I miscarried.
Mom lost a grandbaby—the same one she’d been praying for from the moment Jin and I got engaged.
She’s devastated too, yet she’s been by my side this entire time. She’s focused on supporting me and helping me through this difficult period in my life.
“I’m… sorry…” I mumble. “Mommy, I didn’t mean to be…”
“It’s okay, baby. I know. I get it.” She opens her arms and draws me into one of her comforting hugs.
“But this whole thing you’re doing? This investigating the Black Shell guy and Jin’s family history?
It’s dangerous territory. You’re falling down a rabbit hole you might not be able to climb out of. ”
“Mom—”
“You could wind up hurt. Or worse.”
“I’m being careful. I’m not doing anything stupid.”
“It’s time, Moni,” she says, sighing. She draws back from our hug to grab both my hands and hold them tight. “Our lease is up soon. Maybe it really is time we think about going home. Back to Philly. Away from all this darkness.”
I can’t even bring myself to answer her. It’s not as if it hasn’t been a thought of mine. At least before I started digging into what happened in Jin’s past.
But what if Mom’s right? What if what I’ve been doing will only lead to trouble? What if it only makes things worse at a time where I should be focused on healing?
A few days pass without me having an answer to Mom’s proposal. I do decide to cut back on the time I’m dedicating to the Black Shell mystery even if I don’t stop completely.
I force myself not to dive in first thing in the morning and resist the urge to stay up at all hours of the night digging for more info.
Instead of spending my evening at the library looking at more archived newspapers, I accept Kelly’s invite to go for dinner. Though I’m still not like my old self, it’s nice to spend time with a friend and listen to her problems, however silly and funny they are.
I’m on my way home when the same prickle I’ve felt several times before raises the little hairs on the back of my neck.
It’s the distinct feeling that I’m being watched.
Quickening my pace, I scan the street the apartment building is on and tell myself it’s probably Jin again. He or Sang-cheol are probably keeping tabs on me despite my objections.
Still, the unease remains even as I enter the lobby and step onto the elevator. My heart thuds heavily in my chest and becomes the only sound I hear beside the elevator ding when I reach the ninth floor.
I rush out, pivoting on my heel and striding straight for my apartment at the end of the hall. It’s as I’m punching in the code and the lock clicks that they appear out of nowhere.
Five masked men emerge on either side of the hall as if out of thin air.
I scream before I can think what else to do, then scurry to head inside.
But they prove half a second quicker as they bum-rush me. They swarm toward me like an angry hive, causing the door to fling open and forcing their way into the apartment.
“MOM!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “CALL THE POLICE!”
One man has grabbed me by the arms while another tries to gather my feet. I kick hard at him, twisting and jerking in their hold.
Mom comes bustling down the hall that leads to the bedroom and bathroom, then gasps at the disturbing sight that greets her.
Me struggling against the five masked men who have invaded our apartment. She’s already in her robe and bonnet, obviously winding down for the night.
But that doesn’t matter, because it only takes her a split second to snap into action.
“GET AWAY FROM MY BABY!” she screams ferociously. She grabs a broom that’s propped up against the wall and launches herself at the group of men.
I’ve managed to wrangle my way free, elbowing the man behind me in the stomach and kicking at the other one in the groin.
Like mother like daughter, the second I’m free, I scramble for the first item within reach. A decorative vase on the console table that I hurl at the nearest attacker.
It catches him in the shoulder and shatters, throwing him off balance. The man I’d elbowed in the gut lunges at me for revenge, but I thrust my palm out and slam it into his nose hard enough to produce blood.
“Argh!” he cries out, clutching at his leaking nose.
Mom’s swinging the broom at the two others who have gone to handle her, daring them to try her.
“Go on!” she yells, swatting the broom like a bat. She bops one of them over the head and leaves him staggering sideways. “Try that again, try to put a finger on me or my baby, and find out what happens!”
I’ve grabbed a candle on a shelf and use it on the masked man still doubled over from the groin injury. The candle cracks over his head and renders him unconscious, dropping him to the floor.
I’m ready to go back for more with the guy who I gave a bloody nose, but the fifth masked man comes at me from behind. He grabs me by the arm and yanks me toward him, his grip bruising and rough. His hand collides with my cheek, the backhand making my ears ring.
“DON’T YOU EVER PUT YOUR HANDS ON MY BABY!”
My head’s still reeling from the sudden and brutal strike when there’s a clang and a groan and then a heavy thud.
I open my eyes in time to watch Mom swinging a frying pan through the air and connecting it with the man’s skull.
The men are scrambling now, two of them unconscious or half out of it as they speak in rushed Korean and stumble to their feet.
It seems like they’ve realized this is a losing battle and they’ve attracted too much attention. They rush out the door, dragging the last unconscious one along, yelling that this is only the beginning.
A threat to expect more to come.
I’m breathless as I stare after them, Mom at my side clutching the frying pan. We share a glance and then look back down the hall at the retreating men.
Any moment now, if my landlady has heard the commotion she’ll come rushing over and demand to know what’s happened.
We’ll call the police, though the masked men will have been long gone. The rest of our neighbors will be shocked and scandalized.
But that doesn’t change the fact that these men turned up the way they did. That they promised this wasn’t the end even as they retreated and ran off.
I swallow against the tide of panic rising up inside me and mutter, “Those were no regular attackers. They were…”
Mom merely nods, finally lowering the frying plan slightly. “I’ll call the police.”