The Third Case (7)

As I lay out my observations about the glove impressions, I can feel the atmosphere in the room shifting. The skeptical glances and dismissive attitudes that had greeted me earlier are replaced by looks of curiosity and interest.

"If you look closely at the glove impressions," I explain, my voice steady and confident, "you'll notice that they're not consistent with a typical five-fingered grip. In fact, it appears that the criminal only used four fingers on their right hand, excluding the thumb."

I pause for a moment, letting my words sink in. I can see the gears turning in the minds of the other officers, their expressions growing more serious and focused with each passing second.

"This suggests that the criminal is missing their right thumb," I continue, my tone growing more urgent and insistent. "And that's not the kind of injury that happens by accident. It's the kind of thing that occurs in certain types of work environments, particularly those that involve heavy machinery and cutting tools."

I can see Inspector Kim leaning forward in his seat, his brow furrowed in concentration. "What are you suggesting, Officer Park?"

I take a deep breath, my mind racing with the implications of my theory. "I believe that our suspect may be working in a factory that involves meat processing or a similar industry. The missing thumb, combined with the evidence of the industrial fridge, points to someone with experience in that kind of environment."

As I speak, I can feel the energy in the room shifting, the other officers sitting up straighter in their seats and nodding along with my words. Even the most skeptical among them seem to be taking my observations seriously, their minds working to connect the dots and follow the logic of my argument.

"It's a compelling theory," Kim says at last, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and respect. "And one that certainly warrants further investigation."

I nod, feeling a surge of pride and satisfaction wash over me. I know that I still have a long way to go to prove myself to this team, to earn their full trust and respect.

As the team digests my initial theory about the suspect's missing thumb, I can see the wheels turning in their minds, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. But I know that there's more to uncover, more angles to explore if we want to zero in on our killer.

"If we're looking at a factory worker, particularly in the meat processing industry," I continue, my voice filled with a growing sense of urgency, "then we have to consider the financial aspect as well. These kinds of jobs typically pay very low wages, barely enough to get by on."

I pause for a moment, letting my words sink in. I can see the other officers nodding along, their expressions growing more serious and focused with each passing second.

"But there's another factor to consider here," I press on, my mind racing with the possibilities. "If our suspect lost his thumb in a work-related accident, then there's a good chance he's registered on a disabled peoples' list. That would allow him to receive government subsidies to help make ends meet."

I can see Inspector Kim's eyes widening, a look of realization dawning on his face. "And if we cross-reference that list with our database of known criminals..."

"Then we might be able to narrow down our list of suspects considerably," I finish, my voice filled with a mix of excitement and determination. "We could be looking at a very specific subset of individuals, ones with a history of violence and a connection to the meat processing industry."

As I speak, I can feel the energy in the room shifting, the other officers leaning forward in their seats and murmuring amongst themselves. I know that I've struck a chord, that I've provided a new avenue of investigation that could crack this case wide open.

"Sounds like an idea," Kim says at last."And one that it's worth pursuing. I want every available resource focused on cross-referencing those lists and identifying potential suspects."

As the team springs into action, their minds focused on the task of cross-referencing the disabled peoples' list with the criminal database, I feel a sense of excitement and purpose thrumming through my veins. This is what I've been working towards, the chance to make a real difference in the pursuit of justice.

But even as I bask in the glow of my newfound sense of purpose, I feel a familiar presence stirring in the back of my mind. It's Bundy, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and dark amusement.

"Impressive work, Park," he whispers, his words echoing in my mind like a twisted melody. "But don't get too comfortable. You're not there yet."

I frown, trying to push his voice aside and focus on the task at hand. But Bundy is persistent, his presence in my mind like a nagging itch that won't go away.

"The new evidence only confirms what I've been saying all along," he continues, his tone growing more serious and insistent. "This criminal is a coward, through and through."

I pause, my mind racing with the implications of his words. "What do you mean?"

Bundy chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Think about it, Park. He targeted a child, a defenseless innocent. His way of chopping up the body, dumping it in an area where few people would stumble upon it... these are the actions of a weak and frightened individual."

I nod, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. "So even if we identify potential suspects and track them down..."

"There's a good chance he won't be there," Bundy finishes, his voice filled with a dark sort of certainty. "A coward like this, he'll be long gone by the time you come knocking on his door."

I feel a sense of frustration and helplessness wash over me, but I push it aside. I know that I can't afford to let Bundy's cynicism and despair take hold, not when there's so much at stake.

"So what do you suggest?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Bundy is silent for a moment, his presence in my mind like a suffocating weight. But then he speaks again, his words filled with a twisted sort of wisdom.

"Start thinking like him, Park. Put yourself in his shoes. If you were a cowardly killer on the run, where would you go? Where would you hide?"

I take a deep breath, my mind racing with the possibilities. I know that Bundy is right, that we can't afford to be reactive in our approach to this case. We need to be proactive, to anticipate the killer's next move and cut him off at the pass.

"If I were him," I murmur, my voice barely audible above the din of the investigation, "I'd be looking for somewhere to lay low. Somewhere cheap, off the grid, where I could stretch my meager resources as far as possible."

Bundy's voice echoes in my mind, a dark and twisted chuckle that sends a shiver down my spine. "You're on the right track, Park. Keep going."

I nod, my brow furrowed in concentration. "He's probably living on a small wage, supplemented by whatever government subsidies he can scrape together. That means he'll be looking for the cheapest accommodations possible, places where he can pay in cash and avoid leaving a paper trail."

I can feel the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place, the profile of our killer growing clearer with each passing moment.

"And security?" Bundy prompts, his voice filled with a perverse sort of excitement. "What about that?"

I shake my head, a grim smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "He'll want to avoid anything with too much surveillance or security. No cameras, no key cards, nothing that could potentially identify him or tie him to a specific location."

***

Sue knocked on the door of Senior Superintendent Choi's office, her face drawn and serious, a stack of documents clutched tightly in her hand. Choi looked up from his desk, where he had been poring over the latest batch of reports on different cases.

"Come in," Choi said, his voice rough with fatigue and frustration. "Did you find what I asked for?"

Sue nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. "Yes, I did the research you requested and brought the documents," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I think you should know what I found."

Choi frowned, his curiosity piqued by the urgency in her tone. "What is it?"

Sue took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "It's about the murder case of the officer Park's parents," she said, her voice trembling slightly. 

"I did some digging in the archives, just like you asked," she said, her voice growing stronger with each word. "And I found the original case file. It's all here... the evidence, the witness statements, everything."

She handed Choi the stack of documents, her fingers brushing against his in a fleeting moment of shared understanding. He took them with shaking hands, his heart pounding in his chest as he flipped through the pages.

And there it was, in black and white. The name of the lead investigator on the case, the man who had been tasked with bringing their killer to justice.

[Inspector Choi Hoon]