[Dong Bang Shin Ki] A Man Who Wasn't There [2/?]
Chapter 2
Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than lying to others.
- Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky
Jaejoong let out a long breath as soon as he was safely in the police car. In the drivers seat, the officer who was flirting with him earlier looked contrite and kept his eyes firmly on the road. Jaejoong did not look out the window to see the two officers who questioned him watch him being driven away, nor did he seem to notice anything else for that matter. All he did was sit with his fingers wrapped around an object in his pocket.
If Choi Dong Wook noticed anything off about the young man sitting behind him, he was far too embarrassed to bring it up.
~*~
"Since when did cashiers wear dress slacks to work?" was the first thing out of Park Yoochun's mouth as soon as the police car disappeared around the corner.
Yunho felt his mouth twitch up into a small grin as he turned to look at his partner. "Now I know why you got the promotion and transfer," he laughed as they returned to the station. The trip back to the office was uneventful. Neither talked very much, choosing to use the time to organize each of their thoughts, opinions, and clues. Yoochun let out a loud yawn and stretched his arms above his head as they stepped into their office, jacket promptly finding its way into a messy pile on top of the desk. Yunho had to shake his head ruefully as he hung up his own suit jacket so that it doesn't wrinkle.
It was past their lunch break, but neither felt hungry for something as mundane as food.
"Alright, go for it," Yunho said, sitting down behind his desk and opening the folder once again. From the top drawer of his desk came a pair of simple black-rimmed glasses, which he perched on his nose. It was past noon and the sun has been shining into their un-shuttered window for several hours. Yoochun was already starting to sweat as soon as they stepped in, perspiration gathering on his forehead and under his armpits, but Yunho still looked as cool and composed as he looked two hours ago when Yoochun first arrived at work a good two hours late. The younger man stalked over to the window, hurriedly dropping the blinds down and letting cool darkness envelope the room again before finally finding his way back to his own desk.
"He's a pretty good liar," Yoochun began. "I almost bought it." He leaned back on his chair, starting to put his feet onto his desk, but a pointed look from his partner immediately made him change his mind. Jung Yunho lets him off on many things, including being so late to work, mostly because both knew very well how late the younger man actually stayed at night to do extra paper work or analysis. And on those weeks when they were on a case, neither man has much of free rest time to themselves. That's why in between cases, Yunho understood and covered for his partner whenever the chief came knocking. As long as the work gets done on time, it hardly mattered just when it was first started.
On the other hand, Yoochun noticed that it was usually the small things that really set his partner off. Cold coffee gets tossed without a regard on how much was left, and offering the man lukewarm anything gets you a glare cold enough to form glaciers in the cup. Whatever it is, it better be freezing cold or piping hot, never in between. Smoking was strictly forbidden anywhere near their office, and while Yoochun's suit jacket could go on the floor if he wanted, shoes belonged firmly on the ground. Yunho's own suit jacket is always wrinkle-free; his button-down shirts cleanly pressed and dark tie neatly down his front. At one point Yoochun overheard some of the younger officers whispering that Jung Yunho simply wasn't human because his face never sweats. Yoochun thought his partner is just a tad bit obsessive compulsive, and not much more than that.
"Plus, why the trench coat. It's summer, the weather certainly doesn't call for a winter trench coat," Yoochun continued, finding a random cap-less pen and tapping it to a beat only he could hear. "Even if it was four in the morning."
"The team didn't find anything incriminating on him when they did a body search," Yunho pointed out.
"Then what he was hiding wasn't what we were looking for," Yoochun replied. "The team was probably looking for an axe or a blade, or some kind of blood stain. Clearly our pretty boy doesn't have any of those on him, or we wouldn't have let him go home like that. So the questions are, why lie about his job, what is his job, when did he actually get off work, when did he find the body, and if he's our perp, how this skinny little pretty boy pulled off a body-chopping stunt like that without any obvious weapon or bloodstain. I think that covered the entire what, when, why, and how." Yoochun paused, looking thoughtful. "Only I don't think he's our "who"."
Yunho looked up from his scribbling. "Wait, what? You gave me all that spiel and then say he's not our perp?"
"No, yes, well I don't know, precisely," Yoochun defended. "It's just a gut feeling. So far our clues don't really add up to him being the killer anyway."
"That doesn't necessarily mean he isn't related somehow."
Yoochun grinned. "Precisely my point. His wasn't the hand that held the axe, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know what's going on." Yoochun leaned forward eagerly, eyes starting to have that unholy shine it always gets when he's on to something. "What we need is a detailed map of the area, preferably marked with all the stores and shops. He was wearing dressy clothes, but he doesn't want anyone to know that. He was going home from work at 4AM, well past the time when regular workers get off work."
"He could've been a businessman going home after drinking with his coworkers," Yunho interjected.
"Not with the kind of pants he had on," Yoochun shot back. "His wasn't the dress slacks of a regular office worker. The bottom of the pants was flared; it was stylish. Any businessman caught wearing those can just kiss his job goodbye." Yoochun paused, glancing at his partner slyly. "Plus, he had makeup on."
Yunho's eyebrows shot up, eyes incredulous. "What?"
"You heard me. I've slept with enough women to know when makeup is used, and his isn't the "I just kissed a hot woman" kind of lipstick smudge either." Yoochun was grinning so wide that Yunho thought his face was going to split in two. "Kim Jaejoong is a looker, and he knows it. But no matter how much beauty you were born with, without maintenance it won't last. Our pretty boy not only uses various beauty products to keep his skin clear and smooth, but also uses some makeup to enhance his appeal. There's a reason you couldn't keep your eyes off of him." Yoochun gave his partner a smug little knowing look.
"This coming from the man who claims to understand beauty like the back of his hand," Yunho replied dryly. Yoochun just grinned at the faint pink flush rising from the older man's collar that couldn't be hidden, undeterred by the sarcastic words.
Park Yoochun certainly understood beauty. Unfortunately, it also means beauty rarely ever work on him anymore, even if it that doesn't stop him from taking a woman home every night to warm his bed.
Yunho cleared his throat, giving Yoochun a short glare. "So what we need is a place nearby that requires their worker to be beautiful, stylish young men, and the working time is late at night, probably between 8PM to 4 or 5AM."
"Bingo." Yoochun tapped his pen once on the table then leaned forward in interest. "Now I've given my view, let's hear yours."
There was a short pause.
"He got guts, not many people can lie like he did while looking into another person's eyes," Yunho said, eyes sharp even while remembering the encounter. "You're probably right that he knows how to work his beautiful face."
Yoochun pouted. "Of course I'm right," he muttered to himself, but quickly shut his mouth again. Yunho also doesn't like being interrupted.
"His face was cool, his eyes stayed with you unerringly, but he was fidgeting," Yunho continued. "His feet were tapping out some kind of rhythm, not just randomly. It was angry, nervous maybe, but not scared. The way he carried himself wasn't like that of a criminal; he wasn't slouching, stuttering, or sweating, and his eyes were steady. I don't think he was lying about his family situation; he seemed to be very accustomed to taking care of himself." Yunho stopped and frowned. "It could be caused by having to sit in the station for several hours, but he didn't seem surprised, confused, or nervous about being here; rather he just seemed angry about being kept here for so long. I don't know about his actual guilt, but he certainly didn't act guilty. Rather, it was almost like he was...familiar with the place. Or at least been here before."
"Criminal record?"
"Possibly. He seemed far too comfortable to have been arrested before, but we should double check anyway. He might have some kind of connection to a victim or criminal."
"Yunho-hyung..." Yoochun frowned. "Maybe we're focusing too much on this Kim Jaejoong guy. For all we know he just stumbled across the body. Prelim background check and full body search didn't come up with anything incriminating; the guy only lied to us about his job it seems."
"Yes, which is why we're going to split up and go get us some clues." Yunho pulled his glasses off smoothly, tucking it back to its original position in his top drawer. "One of us is going to go to victim's home and office, take statements and size up the suspect pool. The other one is going to checkup on Kim Jaejoong. Something about him is..."
"You go then," was Yoochun's immediate reply.
Yunho blinked. "What?"
"If you're so interested in this guy, you go check out his job and background."
"You're the one who claimed to understand beauty."
Yoochun gave Yunho a look. "Which is precisely why I'm keeping myself far away from this guy. He's way too damned attractive; I'd rather prefer not to complicate myself with someone like that. Take a look at nature; roses are the ones that come with thorns."
"Right, and the reasons why you're taking beautiful woman home for one night stands are...?"
Yoochun grinned, putting on his jacket and doing a half-assed job in smoothing out the wrinkles. "Because sex, my man, is simple, and it feels really damned good."
~*~
Kim Jaejoong slowly stepped into his apartment, door closing noiselessly behind him. He stood there in silence for a few minutes, back heavy against the thin wall painted a sickly green. In front of him, a pair of black and white sneakers sprawled innocently in the corner.
Jaejoong took a deep breath before toeing his own shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile in front of the door. Stepping into the small living room the dark-haired man shrugged off his coat, dropping it into a chair by the round dining table. The navy-blue silk button down shirt enhanced a slim waistline and hips, dark dress slacks hugging thighs intimately but Jaejoong, who has been wearing them for the past twenty some odd hours, just wanted to get out of them and into something more comfortable.
Quietly he moved toward the bedroom, slowly inching it open. "Changmin-ah," he whispered, peering in. On his bed was a tall figure completely smothered by the only actually white thing in the whole apartment, Jaejoong's quilts. The bundle squirmed.
"Hyung?" came the drowsy question originating somewhere in the white pile. A dark head emerged from near the foot of the bed.
"Yeah, I'm here," Jaejoong replied, approaching the bed and sitting down next to the figure. The face attached to the messy head was pale and somewhat clammy to the touch, full lips white with dryness. The normally large eyes were closed into slits, weak and red-rimmed. "How are you feeling?"
"Awful."
"I got you some medicine, just wait a bit more and you'll feel better." Jaejoong got up, ready to move back to the living room, but a surprisingly strong hand shot out from under the quilts and latched onto this wrist tightly.
"Hyung, what time is it?" the voice was faint, but the question was sharp.
"Afternoon."
"Why are you home so late?"
Jaejoong was silent for a split second. "Something came up. I know you should've taken that medicine several hours ago. Sorry. But once you take it, your fever will go down soon, and you'll feel better."
"That's not what I meant," came the bleary reply. The hand on Jaejoong's wrist was loosing its strength. Jaejoong quickly tucked the arm back under the thick layers of blankets and quilts, covering the younger boy as well as he could. Already his eyes were closing. Jaejoong quietly straightened to move back to the door.
"Was he bothering you again?"
The question jarred Jaejoong, stopping him only centimeters from the bed.
"I'll bet it was him, wasn't it. He just wouldn't leave you alone. I warned him, but he wouldn't listen to me," the boy on the bed mumbled. Jaejoong turned, worry digging grooves on his forehead. "He wouldn't listen to me, he wouldn't...I'll protect...hyung..."
"Shh," Jaejoong whispered. He leaned back over the bed and moved a hand through the younger boy's hair, calming him. "Go to sleep, Changmin-ah, I'll get you some food and medicine, and you'll feel much better. Sleep." The mumbles gradually slowed and then stopped altogether. Satisfied that Changmin really was asleep, Jaejoong untangled his hand from the boy's hair and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Now that he had made sure Changmin was all right, now that the ridiculous perverted officer isn't there for him to deliberately ignore, now that there is only his familiar apartment, Jaejoong felt all the strength leave him. He slowly, despairingly sank down until all he could feel was the icy cold wall behind him, until all he could see was the photo that was shown to him at the station, identifying a man who, just a few hours before, had been drinking with Jaejoong.
Until all he could sense were the bulging eyes, milky white with death, the familiar face attached to a head that was completely severed from the body, and the blood that continued to pool under his feet.
Note: in the previous chapter I made a typo, Yoochun observed that Jaejoong was wearing dress slacks and dress shoes rather than jeans and sneakers.
Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than lying to others.
- Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky
Jaejoong let out a long breath as soon as he was safely in the police car. In the drivers seat, the officer who was flirting with him earlier looked contrite and kept his eyes firmly on the road. Jaejoong did not look out the window to see the two officers who questioned him watch him being driven away, nor did he seem to notice anything else for that matter. All he did was sit with his fingers wrapped around an object in his pocket.
If Choi Dong Wook noticed anything off about the young man sitting behind him, he was far too embarrassed to bring it up.
~*~
"Since when did cashiers wear dress slacks to work?" was the first thing out of Park Yoochun's mouth as soon as the police car disappeared around the corner.
Yunho felt his mouth twitch up into a small grin as he turned to look at his partner. "Now I know why you got the promotion and transfer," he laughed as they returned to the station. The trip back to the office was uneventful. Neither talked very much, choosing to use the time to organize each of their thoughts, opinions, and clues. Yoochun let out a loud yawn and stretched his arms above his head as they stepped into their office, jacket promptly finding its way into a messy pile on top of the desk. Yunho had to shake his head ruefully as he hung up his own suit jacket so that it doesn't wrinkle.
It was past their lunch break, but neither felt hungry for something as mundane as food.
"Alright, go for it," Yunho said, sitting down behind his desk and opening the folder once again. From the top drawer of his desk came a pair of simple black-rimmed glasses, which he perched on his nose. It was past noon and the sun has been shining into their un-shuttered window for several hours. Yoochun was already starting to sweat as soon as they stepped in, perspiration gathering on his forehead and under his armpits, but Yunho still looked as cool and composed as he looked two hours ago when Yoochun first arrived at work a good two hours late. The younger man stalked over to the window, hurriedly dropping the blinds down and letting cool darkness envelope the room again before finally finding his way back to his own desk.
"He's a pretty good liar," Yoochun began. "I almost bought it." He leaned back on his chair, starting to put his feet onto his desk, but a pointed look from his partner immediately made him change his mind. Jung Yunho lets him off on many things, including being so late to work, mostly because both knew very well how late the younger man actually stayed at night to do extra paper work or analysis. And on those weeks when they were on a case, neither man has much of free rest time to themselves. That's why in between cases, Yunho understood and covered for his partner whenever the chief came knocking. As long as the work gets done on time, it hardly mattered just when it was first started.
On the other hand, Yoochun noticed that it was usually the small things that really set his partner off. Cold coffee gets tossed without a regard on how much was left, and offering the man lukewarm anything gets you a glare cold enough to form glaciers in the cup. Whatever it is, it better be freezing cold or piping hot, never in between. Smoking was strictly forbidden anywhere near their office, and while Yoochun's suit jacket could go on the floor if he wanted, shoes belonged firmly on the ground. Yunho's own suit jacket is always wrinkle-free; his button-down shirts cleanly pressed and dark tie neatly down his front. At one point Yoochun overheard some of the younger officers whispering that Jung Yunho simply wasn't human because his face never sweats. Yoochun thought his partner is just a tad bit obsessive compulsive, and not much more than that.
"Plus, why the trench coat. It's summer, the weather certainly doesn't call for a winter trench coat," Yoochun continued, finding a random cap-less pen and tapping it to a beat only he could hear. "Even if it was four in the morning."
"The team didn't find anything incriminating on him when they did a body search," Yunho pointed out.
"Then what he was hiding wasn't what we were looking for," Yoochun replied. "The team was probably looking for an axe or a blade, or some kind of blood stain. Clearly our pretty boy doesn't have any of those on him, or we wouldn't have let him go home like that. So the questions are, why lie about his job, what is his job, when did he actually get off work, when did he find the body, and if he's our perp, how this skinny little pretty boy pulled off a body-chopping stunt like that without any obvious weapon or bloodstain. I think that covered the entire what, when, why, and how." Yoochun paused, looking thoughtful. "Only I don't think he's our "who"."
Yunho looked up from his scribbling. "Wait, what? You gave me all that spiel and then say he's not our perp?"
"No, yes, well I don't know, precisely," Yoochun defended. "It's just a gut feeling. So far our clues don't really add up to him being the killer anyway."
"That doesn't necessarily mean he isn't related somehow."
Yoochun grinned. "Precisely my point. His wasn't the hand that held the axe, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know what's going on." Yoochun leaned forward eagerly, eyes starting to have that unholy shine it always gets when he's on to something. "What we need is a detailed map of the area, preferably marked with all the stores and shops. He was wearing dressy clothes, but he doesn't want anyone to know that. He was going home from work at 4AM, well past the time when regular workers get off work."
"He could've been a businessman going home after drinking with his coworkers," Yunho interjected.
"Not with the kind of pants he had on," Yoochun shot back. "His wasn't the dress slacks of a regular office worker. The bottom of the pants was flared; it was stylish. Any businessman caught wearing those can just kiss his job goodbye." Yoochun paused, glancing at his partner slyly. "Plus, he had makeup on."
Yunho's eyebrows shot up, eyes incredulous. "What?"
"You heard me. I've slept with enough women to know when makeup is used, and his isn't the "I just kissed a hot woman" kind of lipstick smudge either." Yoochun was grinning so wide that Yunho thought his face was going to split in two. "Kim Jaejoong is a looker, and he knows it. But no matter how much beauty you were born with, without maintenance it won't last. Our pretty boy not only uses various beauty products to keep his skin clear and smooth, but also uses some makeup to enhance his appeal. There's a reason you couldn't keep your eyes off of him." Yoochun gave his partner a smug little knowing look.
"This coming from the man who claims to understand beauty like the back of his hand," Yunho replied dryly. Yoochun just grinned at the faint pink flush rising from the older man's collar that couldn't be hidden, undeterred by the sarcastic words.
Park Yoochun certainly understood beauty. Unfortunately, it also means beauty rarely ever work on him anymore, even if it that doesn't stop him from taking a woman home every night to warm his bed.
Yunho cleared his throat, giving Yoochun a short glare. "So what we need is a place nearby that requires their worker to be beautiful, stylish young men, and the working time is late at night, probably between 8PM to 4 or 5AM."
"Bingo." Yoochun tapped his pen once on the table then leaned forward in interest. "Now I've given my view, let's hear yours."
There was a short pause.
"He got guts, not many people can lie like he did while looking into another person's eyes," Yunho said, eyes sharp even while remembering the encounter. "You're probably right that he knows how to work his beautiful face."
Yoochun pouted. "Of course I'm right," he muttered to himself, but quickly shut his mouth again. Yunho also doesn't like being interrupted.
"His face was cool, his eyes stayed with you unerringly, but he was fidgeting," Yunho continued. "His feet were tapping out some kind of rhythm, not just randomly. It was angry, nervous maybe, but not scared. The way he carried himself wasn't like that of a criminal; he wasn't slouching, stuttering, or sweating, and his eyes were steady. I don't think he was lying about his family situation; he seemed to be very accustomed to taking care of himself." Yunho stopped and frowned. "It could be caused by having to sit in the station for several hours, but he didn't seem surprised, confused, or nervous about being here; rather he just seemed angry about being kept here for so long. I don't know about his actual guilt, but he certainly didn't act guilty. Rather, it was almost like he was...familiar with the place. Or at least been here before."
"Criminal record?"
"Possibly. He seemed far too comfortable to have been arrested before, but we should double check anyway. He might have some kind of connection to a victim or criminal."
"Yunho-hyung..." Yoochun frowned. "Maybe we're focusing too much on this Kim Jaejoong guy. For all we know he just stumbled across the body. Prelim background check and full body search didn't come up with anything incriminating; the guy only lied to us about his job it seems."
"Yes, which is why we're going to split up and go get us some clues." Yunho pulled his glasses off smoothly, tucking it back to its original position in his top drawer. "One of us is going to go to victim's home and office, take statements and size up the suspect pool. The other one is going to checkup on Kim Jaejoong. Something about him is..."
"You go then," was Yoochun's immediate reply.
Yunho blinked. "What?"
"If you're so interested in this guy, you go check out his job and background."
"You're the one who claimed to understand beauty."
Yoochun gave Yunho a look. "Which is precisely why I'm keeping myself far away from this guy. He's way too damned attractive; I'd rather prefer not to complicate myself with someone like that. Take a look at nature; roses are the ones that come with thorns."
"Right, and the reasons why you're taking beautiful woman home for one night stands are...?"
Yoochun grinned, putting on his jacket and doing a half-assed job in smoothing out the wrinkles. "Because sex, my man, is simple, and it feels really damned good."
~*~
Kim Jaejoong slowly stepped into his apartment, door closing noiselessly behind him. He stood there in silence for a few minutes, back heavy against the thin wall painted a sickly green. In front of him, a pair of black and white sneakers sprawled innocently in the corner.
Jaejoong took a deep breath before toeing his own shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile in front of the door. Stepping into the small living room the dark-haired man shrugged off his coat, dropping it into a chair by the round dining table. The navy-blue silk button down shirt enhanced a slim waistline and hips, dark dress slacks hugging thighs intimately but Jaejoong, who has been wearing them for the past twenty some odd hours, just wanted to get out of them and into something more comfortable.
Quietly he moved toward the bedroom, slowly inching it open. "Changmin-ah," he whispered, peering in. On his bed was a tall figure completely smothered by the only actually white thing in the whole apartment, Jaejoong's quilts. The bundle squirmed.
"Hyung?" came the drowsy question originating somewhere in the white pile. A dark head emerged from near the foot of the bed.
"Yeah, I'm here," Jaejoong replied, approaching the bed and sitting down next to the figure. The face attached to the messy head was pale and somewhat clammy to the touch, full lips white with dryness. The normally large eyes were closed into slits, weak and red-rimmed. "How are you feeling?"
"Awful."
"I got you some medicine, just wait a bit more and you'll feel better." Jaejoong got up, ready to move back to the living room, but a surprisingly strong hand shot out from under the quilts and latched onto this wrist tightly.
"Hyung, what time is it?" the voice was faint, but the question was sharp.
"Afternoon."
"Why are you home so late?"
Jaejoong was silent for a split second. "Something came up. I know you should've taken that medicine several hours ago. Sorry. But once you take it, your fever will go down soon, and you'll feel better."
"That's not what I meant," came the bleary reply. The hand on Jaejoong's wrist was loosing its strength. Jaejoong quickly tucked the arm back under the thick layers of blankets and quilts, covering the younger boy as well as he could. Already his eyes were closing. Jaejoong quietly straightened to move back to the door.
"Was he bothering you again?"
The question jarred Jaejoong, stopping him only centimeters from the bed.
"I'll bet it was him, wasn't it. He just wouldn't leave you alone. I warned him, but he wouldn't listen to me," the boy on the bed mumbled. Jaejoong turned, worry digging grooves on his forehead. "He wouldn't listen to me, he wouldn't...I'll protect...hyung..."
"Shh," Jaejoong whispered. He leaned back over the bed and moved a hand through the younger boy's hair, calming him. "Go to sleep, Changmin-ah, I'll get you some food and medicine, and you'll feel much better. Sleep." The mumbles gradually slowed and then stopped altogether. Satisfied that Changmin really was asleep, Jaejoong untangled his hand from the boy's hair and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Now that he had made sure Changmin was all right, now that the ridiculous perverted officer isn't there for him to deliberately ignore, now that there is only his familiar apartment, Jaejoong felt all the strength leave him. He slowly, despairingly sank down until all he could feel was the icy cold wall behind him, until all he could see was the photo that was shown to him at the station, identifying a man who, just a few hours before, had been drinking with Jaejoong.
Until all he could sense were the bulging eyes, milky white with death, the familiar face attached to a head that was completely severed from the body, and the blood that continued to pool under his feet.
Note: in the previous chapter I made a typo, Yoochun observed that Jaejoong was wearing dress slacks and dress shoes rather than jeans and sneakers.