The Only Child Read online

  He presented himself confidently before the broadcasting company’s cameras and the photojournalists who flocked to the police station. The investigation team tried to cover up his face with jackets and towels, but he flung the towels aside. Far from hiding his face, he stared straight into the cameras, smiling and looking as if he felt no sense of guilt whatsoever for what he had done.

  The viewers who had been watching the news live that day were astonished.

  It happened only half a day after heated arguments arose over citizens’ right to know what the alleged criminal looked like versus concerns about protecting the criminal’s right to privacy. Yi Byeongdo, however, took the matter into his own hands and made the dispute among the third parties a moot issue.

  It wasn’t just his audacity in boldly revealing his face that shocked the viewers.

  Contrary to the expectations of people who had presumed that the killer’s face would fit the heinous criminal acts, his soft, wavy hair, fair skin, and regular features made for a favorable impression. The slight downturn at the corners of his eyes triggered the maternal instinct. People who believed the face was an indicator of what was in the heart and had imagined him to have the face of the devil were thrown into confusion. And the confusion developed into arbitrary hypotheses on the Internet.

  Some conjectured that Yi Byeongdo wasn’t the real culprit, and others said that childhood wounds must have caused multiple personality disorder, leading him to commit crimes without his being aware of what he was doing; such theories, the stuff of movies, spread heedlessly. Some found personal photos of him and posted them on the Internet, and a fan club called “David” was organized on a portal site. The name came from the sculpture David, for his resemblance to it. Thousands joined instantly, but the club was soon shut down when it was reported in the media.

  Within a year of being arrested, Yi Byeongdo was sentenced to death at his trial, and was now currently incarcerated at the Seoul Detention Center.

  Now Seonkyeong reviewed the materials, and the next day met the investigators who had arrested and investigated him.

  According to the investigation report, the Seoul Metropolitan Police and the Seoul Gangbuk Police had collaborated on the case, but it was the investigators from the Seoul Gangbuk Police Station, the station in charge, who had been there from the onset of the investigation to the arrest and the reenactment of the crime.

  The Seoul Gangbuk Police Station was five minutes away from Suyu Station.

  Seonkyeong had made a phone call in advance, so most of the serious crime division investigators who had been in charge of the case were there. They, too, were surprised that Seonkyeong was going to be interviewing Yi Byeongdo.

  When Seonkyeong asked them about the series of incidents that occurred after the arrest, as well as the hypotheses on the Internet, the investigators burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all.

  “Just spend a day—no, half a day—with him,” one of them said.

  He was the devil disguised as an angel, said another.

  As shocking as it was, his angelic face must have played a crucial role in his crimes.

  Just as they did with Ted Bundy, the American killer, the victims must have easily let down their guard because of his face. In that vein, the investigators’ description of him was quite appropriate. An angelic face must have been a very useful tool for the devil.

  But it must have been more than his appearance that drew the victims so easily to him. There must have been something else that touched the hearts of ordinary people. Just as Ted Bundy had bandaged his arm or leg and asked for assistance from women passing by, feigning disability, Yi Byeongdo, too, must have set a trap so as not to make it easy for the victims to pass him by.

  Most of what the investigators told Seonkyeong had been in the report—the dates of the crimes, the names of the victims, and a long list of things he’d done in the past. What Seonkyeong really needed wasn’t in it.

  From the start, there were bound to be differences in the way the investigators looked at the case and the way Seonkyeong looked at it. For the investigators, Yi Byeongdo’s crimes and the evidence thereof, as well as his confession, were enough.

  It didn’t matter to the investigators what kinds of victim he preferred, how he approached or communicated with them, what he was feeling at the moments he committed the murders, how he evolved as he repeated his criminal acts. They all looked at different parts according to their roles.

  Seonkyeong asked them about the scene of the crime, but there was nothing unusual about the hill where Yi Byeongdo’s house was and the victims’ bodies had been found. She tried putting the question in different ways, but they all said basically the same thing. She had gone to them in the hopes of finding something, but she became bored by their rambling talk and decided she had heard enough.

  At that moment, someone began to talk about something that had happened during the crime scene investigation, but about which the investigators had kept quiet.

  They must have been shocked by the incident, and now they all began to talk at once. At last, Seonkyeong felt drawn to what they were saying.

  It was such a big case that dozens of journalists, citizens, and family members of the victims gathered at the place where the crime scene inspection was held, causing an uproar. The investigators said that twice as many people must have been there as at the excavation site of those killed by Yu Yeongcheol.

  The journalists had all pointed their cameras at Yi Byeongdo as soon as the police car transporting him arrived, and the families of the victims made a grab for him despite the police’s efforts to hold them back. Three or four investigators surrounding Yi Byeongdo tried to move forward, blocking the crowd, without success.

  “All those people were shouting, but he didn’t even blink an eye,” one of the investigators said.

  No matter how brutal a serial killer was, he would probably shrink back with so many people watching. But Yi Byeongdo was much too calm. The investigators said he had nerves of steel.

  “He knocked them out with a single blow,” said one of the investigators, and fell into thought, probably thinking about what happened that day.

  “He looked at the people who were shouting insults at him, and smiled at them. That made them even more upset. He enjoyed it. He was completely calm, but then he pointed at someone, and made a gesture of slitting his throat with a finger. The people who saw that were shocked and didn’t know what to say, and just stared at him.”

  The investigator sitting next to him chimed in. “Yeah, I remember. Did you see the look on his face when he did that? Whoa, I had goose bumps all over my body. If we hadn’t had our hands on him, he probably would’ve pounced on someone and done something.”

  A veteran investigator who had been in the violent crime division for fifteen years shook his head. He must have dealt with dozens of violent criminals, but Yi Byeongdo seemed to have left an unusual impression even on him.

  “Why did he react that way all of a sudden, when he’d been so calm?” Seonkyeong asked.

  “Well, I’m not sure. . . . Does anyone remember?”

  All the investigators looked at one another and shook their heads.

  “People were flying at him, and shouting and cursing, so who knows why he did, amid all that chaos,” one of them said.

  The investigators were right. But Seonkyeong regretted that they had lost an important clue that would have helped them understand Yi Byeongdo. If it was possible, she would have a drink with the investigators and make them recall everything they saw and heard that day.

  What was it that made Yi Byeongdo, who had been so calm, change all of a sudden?

  It may have been a word that provoked him. Or someone may have hit his sore spot. If only she could find out what it was, it would be easier to talk to him, but for now, there was no way to know.

  Fortunately, though, this memory must have triggered others. As the investigators went on talking, something caught Seonkyeong’s ears
.

  “What really got to me was when he was reenacting the crime. . . . No, it wasn’t a reenactment. It was as if he was back in the moment. As if what he was doing wasn’t something that had happened in the past, but it was as if he was in a trance, as if he couldn’t see anything else, despite the police and citizens who were there. It was so real . . . so real that Investigator Choi over there tried to seize him by the neck, to save the mannequin. The look on his face at that moment. . . . Ugh, even now, it makes me shudder.”

  Seonkyeong saw fear in the eyes of the investigator as he spoke.

  What was it that made even a violent crime investigator cringe? Seonkyeong wanted to know what kind of look Yi Byeongdo had had on his face. She would never know unless she saw it herself. It couldn’t be described in words, and even if hundreds of words were used in an attempt to describe it, it wouldn’t be to any satisfaction, and would just leave one feeling as if one were wandering through a fog. Seonkyeong could only guess at the look on his face by the look on the investigator’s face.

  “We did arrest him, but I wasn’t sure if we really had. I felt that even though his body was captured, his mind went on killing in a world of his own.”

  The investigator knew. Yi Byeongdo’s dark soul still had a strong, brutal power, and he was repeatedly picturing in his mind the last moments of the victims he had killed, savoring what he had felt.

  Seonkyeong tried to imagine the darkness in his heart. He is unaware of either his body, tied up with rope, or the jeers and insults from the people. He is back in time where only the victim and he existed, and reveling in the moment in which he took a human life. He is still in the moment, with the same feeling in his hands, and looking into the woman’s eyes full of fear, at the face gasping out of fear.

  After saying goodbye to the investigators and making her way out of the police station, Seonkyeong felt that she was getting closer to the living, breathing Yi Byeongdo, not the Yi Byeongdo trapped in the files.

  As she came out, the chief of the violent crime division stopped Seonkyeong and said, “I’ve been trying to decide whether to ask you or not . . . but if it’s all right with you, we’d like you to help us.”

  “Yes, of course, if I can. What is it?”

  “To be honest . . . there are several more cases that remain unresolved. We found out that some of the evidence remaining at his house belonged to unidentified victims, but he wouldn’t say a word about them.”

  “So . . . you’re saying that there are more victims? But the police report said . . .”

  “He wouldn’t open his mouth, so we couldn’t do anything about it.”

  So only the cases that had been confirmed through his confession had been disclosed to the world.

  “I don’t know if he’ll speak, but you may be able to come across some clues when you talk to him. We’d like you to tell us what they are.”

  Seonkyeong understood what he was saying. Cold cases can’t stay buried. Who knew if a victim who died at the hands of Yi Byeongdo lay abandoned on a hill somewhere? It could be one of the countless missing people whose faces covered the bulletin board hanging in front of where Seonkyeong and the chief stood.

  “All right. I’ll give you a call if I find out anything,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  THE POURING RAIN CLEARED UP completely as Seonkyeong drove past the Indeokwon Intersection. Or the rain must have fallen only in the area between Sadang and Indeokwon. There were no traces of heavy rain anywhere, as if she had entered another world. The sky once again boasted a blistering sun.

  The road to the detention center was so dry that dust flew everywhere.

  Driving on the road in front of the detention center, flanked by gingko trees swaying in the wind, Seonkyeong recalled the conversation she’d had with Director Han in the association office. He had asked her to be sure to stop by the office before meeting Yi Byeongdo.

  “So, have the materials helped at all?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you. It must’ve been hard to get them all of a sudden.”

  “The advisory committee made preparations to interview him when he was taken to the Seoul Detention Center after the trial. They’re from back then.”

  Seonkyeong had heard that the criminal psychology analysis advisory committee, made up of psychologists, criminologists, and psychoanalyst specialists from different universities, was formed by the Laboratory Division of the National Police Agency ten years before. Some members of the criminal psychology association belonged to the advisory committee as well, and Director Han was one of them. It was the advisory committee that led the efforts to interview criminals for in-depth research and investigation into violent crimes, including serial murders.

  “Considering what happened at the time of the arrest and afterward, I thought he’d have a lot to say about his crimes,” the director said.

  But contrary to his expectations, Yi Byeongdo didn’t consent to an investigation or even an interview with anyone. But now he had singled out Seonkyeong and volunteered to be interviewed.

  “There was a dispute in the advisory committee regarding this,” said the director.

  “Huh?”

  “I’d like to ask you one more time if you’re acquainted with Yi Byeongdo in any way.”

  “As I said on the phone the other day, all I know about him is from the media. I’ve never met him personally.”

  Director Han looked at Seonkyeong for a moment, then nodded.

  “I thought so. And that’s what the committee was concerned about.”

  Seonkyeong stared blankly back, not sure what he meant.

  “You don’t know him, but he knows who you are. However he knows you, the fact that he’s singled you out means that he has more than an interview in mind,” he explained.

  Suddenly, the suspicion and anxiety she had consciously buried after his phone call resurfaced.

  “What else do you think he has in mind?” she asked.

  “Well . . . that’s something we won’t find out till you meet him, isn’t it? I called you in spite of everything because this may be the only chance we have to hear about his crimes directly from him, and . . . ,” the director said, rubbing his forehead with his fingers in hesitation, then went on. “If we find out why he chose you and asked for you, we’ll be able to understand him better.”

  Seonkyeong understood what he was trying to say.

  Seonkyeong didn’t know Yi Byeongdo, but somehow, he knew her.

  It wasn’t clear what it was about her that drew his attention, but he wanted to meet her so much that he decided to open up at last. That alone was enough to indicate that Seonkyeong surely meant something to him.

  “We don’t know what may happen under the circumstances, but I trust that you’ll handle it well. Just be careful that no matter what his intentions are, he doesn’t get his way.”

  He looked at Seonkyeong as if he were looking at a little child by a riverside.

  There was no telling what was in the river. Or how deep it was, or what kind of danger lurked beneath the surface. He could only hope that Seonkyeong would swim safely to the destination and return.

  Suddenly, Seonkyeong felt afraid that she wouldn’t be able to handle the task. But she knew better than anyone that she couldn’t back down. It would be a tremendous opportunity to interview him. There was some risk involved, but if she watched her feet, she could avoid falling into a trap. I can do it, Seonkyeong repeated to herself.

  After she returned from meeting the director, however, she had too much on her mind and couldn’t sleep.

  She lay restless until dawn, when Jaeseong woke to a phone call and left early to go to the hospital. She then got out of bed as well and went into the study and sat down.

  The materials on Yi Byeongdo lay spread out on the desk as she had left them.

  She wasn’t familiar with the materials yet, but she didn’t want to go through them in the darkness.

  She began to close the files and set them asid
e, when a photograph fell to the floor. She picked it up and saw that it was a photograph of Yi Byeongdo from a newspaper. It looked like he was getting in a police car after a crime scene investigation.

  No emotion could be read on his face as he looked back over his shoulder and directly faced the camera. His eyes seemed to be gazing far off into the distance.

  What had he been looking at?

  AS SEONKYEONG PICTURED the face she had seen in the photograph that morning, the front gate of the detention center presented itself before her eyes.

  Seonkyeong stopped the car, took a deep breath, and lowered the window.

  The guard who had been keeping watch at the checkpoint saluted and approached the car. Seonkyeong handed him her identification and told him the purpose of her visit.

  As she waited for the guard to confirm her credentials, sweltering heat rushed into the car.

  6.

  STRANGE, ISN’T IT. I THOUGHT I’D FORGOTTEN IT COMPLETELY, but I knew exactly how to get home. Some new shops had opened, and some of the walls had disappeared, and many changes had been made in the alleyway in six years, but not so much that I couldn’t find my way home.

  The house I had run from was still standing in its place.

  The moment I saw the house, I realized that six years had been nothing. The little kid who had run from the house hadn’t grown at all. Run! a voice shouted in my head, but I stood frozen to the spot, staring at the house. My past took ahold of my ankles and wouldn’t let me move.

  For the first time, I regretted having run away.

  If I had stayed at that house, and felt myself growing in power as my arms and legs grew little by little, and stood up to my mom with that power, wouldn’t I have been able to make the song come to a stop? But that was a very rash thought.

  Do you know something? People don’t change easily. It’s hard to change a relationship that’s already been established. And no matter how atrocious the circumstance, people adjust and get used to it.