The Call

"The fingernails," I breathe, my voice trembling with excitement. "They're not just trophies. They're evidence!"

I can feel Bundy's presence in the back of my mind, a slight smile in his voice. "Very good," he purrs. "You're finally starting to think like a killer."

I ignore him, my mind racing as I connect the dots. If the killer had taken the victims' fingernails, it was likely to remove any traces of their own DNA that might have been left behind. But in their early crimes, they might not have been so meticulous.

I pull up the file on the assault case, scanning the crime scene photos for any sign of the missing fingernails. And there, in the corner of one image, I see it. A small, jagged piece of fingernail, overlooked by the original investigators.

The next morning, I arrive at the police station early, my heart pounding with anticipation. I quickly make my way to Senior Officer Kwon's desk, a file clutched tightly in my hand.

"Sir," I say, my voice trembling slightly with excitement. "I think I've found something. A lead in the serial killer case."

Kwon looks up from his paperwork, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh? What have you got?"

I quickly explain my findings, walking him through the connections I've made between the earlier assault case and the more recent murders. I show him the crime scene photo, pointing out the overlooked piece of fingernail that could contain the killer's DNA.

As I speak, I can see Kwon's expression shifting from skepticism to genuine interest. When I finish, he leans back in his chair, a look of impressed approval on his face.

"Good work, Park," he says, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "This could be the break we've been looking for."

He reaches for his phone, quickly dialing the number for the investigation team at the Jongno Station. I listen as he relays my findings, my heart swelling with pride and excitement.

When he hangs up, I can barely contain my eagerness. "What's next, sir?" I ask, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet. "How can I help with the investigation?"

But to my surprise, Kwon's expression shifts to one of gentle rebuke. "That's all we need from you, Park," he says, his tone firm but not unkind. "Now we just have to wait for the Jongno team to do their work."

I feel a flicker of confusion and frustration. "But sir," I protest, "we're all colleagues here. Shouldn't we be collaborating on this case?"

Kwon sighs, leaning forward and steepling his fingers on the desk. "In theory, yes," he says. "But the reality is different. The Jongno team has jurisdiction over this case, and they'll want to handle it their own way."

I open my mouth to argue, but Kwon cuts me off with a wave of his hand. "I know you're eager to help, Park," he says. "But the best thing you can do right now is to focus on your own duties. Let the Jongno team handle the rest."

I feel a surge of frustration, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. I want to push back, to demand a better explanation for why I'm being sidelined. But the look on Kwon's face tells me that the conversation is over.

"Yes, sir," I say, my voice tight with barely contained anger. "I understand."

As I turn to leave, I can feel Bundy's presence in the back of my mind, a slight chuckle in his voice. "Welcome to the world of bureaucracy," he says. "Where even the most brilliant discoveries can be buried under a mountain of red tape."

As I walk back to my desk, I have an urge to tell him to shut up. But I can't, because deep down, I know he's right.

This isn't the first time I've run up against the bureaucratic walls of the police organization. As a low-ranking officer, I've seen firsthand how even the most promising leads can be buried under layers of red tape and jurisdictional politics.

It's a reality I've come to accept, even if I don't like it. But that doesn't make it any easier to swallow, especially when I know that every day we waste could mean another innocent life lost.

 ***

A few days after I shared my findings with Senior Officer Kwon and the Jongno team, I'm sitting at my desk, trying to focus on the mundane tasks of daily police work. But my mind keeps drifting back to the serial killer case, wondering if my discoveries have made any difference.

Suddenly, I hear a commotion in the bullpen. Officers are gathering around the television, watching breaking news with rapt attention. I stand up, craning my neck to see the screen.

And there it is, the headline I've been waiting for: "Serial Killer Suspect Arrested." My heart leaps in my chest as I listen to the reporter's voice, detailing how the Jongno team had followed up on my leads and identified the suspect, a man with a history of violence and a DNA match to the evidence I had uncovered.

I feel a surge of pride and satisfaction, knowing that my work had played a crucial role in bringing this monster to justice. But at the same time, I can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment and frustration. I should have been there, should have been part of the team that brought him down.

As if reading my thoughts, Senior Officer Kwon appears at my side, a broad grin on his face. "Congratulations, Park," he says, clapping me on the shoulder. "Your work on this case was outstanding. You should be proud."

I force a smile, trying to push down the bitterness that threatens to overwhelm me. "Thank you, sir," I say, my voice tight. "I just wish I could have seen it through to the end."

Kwon's expression softens, a look of understanding in his eyes. "I know it's frustrating, Park," he says. "But you have to trust in the system. Your time will come."

I nod, swallowing hard. I know he's right, but it doesn't make it any easier to accept.

Just then, my phone rings. I glance at the screen, my eyebrows rising in surprise. It's a number I don't recognize, but the area code is familiar. It's from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency!

I answer the call, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Officer Park speaking."

"Park, this is Senior Superintendent Choi from the Seoul Metropolitan Investigation Unit," a gruff voice says on the other end.

I stare at the phone in my hand, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and disbelief. A call from Senior Superintendent Choi, one of the highest-ranking officers in the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency. It's an honor I never dreamed I'd receive, especially so early in my career.

"How can I assist you?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady. 

There's a pause on the other end of the line, a moment of silence that seems to stretch on forever. And then, Choi speaks, his words sending a jolt of shock through my system.

"I want to meet with you in person, Park," he says, his voice gruff but not unkind. "There's something I need to discuss with you, and it's not the kind of thing I can do over the phone."

I feel my mouth go dry, my mind racing with possibilities. What could the Senior Superintendent want with me? Is it about the serial killer case? Or something else entirely?

"I... of course, sir," I stammer, my brain struggling to keep up with the sudden turn of events. "When and where would you like to meet?"

"Tomorrow morning, 9 am sharp," Choi says, his tone brisk and businesslike. "My office, at the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency headquarters. Don't be late."

"Yes, sir," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be there."

As the call ends, I sink back into my chair, my mind reeling with the implications. A personal meeting with one of the most powerful men in the Seoul police force. It's an opportunity I never saw coming, a chance to make a real difference in the fight against crime.

But at the same time, I can't shake the feeling of unease that creeps up my spine. What if this isn't about the serial killer case at all? What if there's something else going on, something I'm not prepared for?