I had come to the inn—to investigate. I threw out a question, letting it cling to her. “Madam, one last thing! Four nights ago, did you notice anything odd?”
“You mean the night of that young lady’s murder.”
“Yes, madam.”
Madam Song clucked her tongue. “An officer was pestering all my customers about that incident. He pestered me too, but I told him to leave.”
“Who was the officer?”
“A handsome one,” she answered, and when I stared blankly at her, she added, “Very obnoxious and arrogant.”
“Officer Ky?n,” I whispered. “Did you see anything that night, madam? He claims that one of your customers saw something.”
“Hmm. I remember seeing a young maid, running into the inn to ask my customers if they had seen her mistress. Everyone said no, so she came to me next. She was so pale, the blood drained from her face, her lips nearly blue.”
“And what did you say, madam?”
“I told her no as well. It is busiest at night here at the Red Lantern. I hardly notice my own hunger as I’m too occupied tending to the needs of others.”
“And after that?”
“After that, she left, and I saw her hesitating before a drunk man on horseback. He was slumped forward, slightly swaying on his saddle. So I was worried for the young maid. A drunk man can trample a girl with his horse.”
The clamoring and yelling around me fell silent, as though someone had placed Madam Song and me under a bowl. So silent that I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears, and the long “hmm” that hummed out from between her lips.
“It was too dark to see him,” Madam Song noted. “He was wearing a hat, so it cast a shadow over his entire face.”
“What else was he wearing?”
“He was passing by a lamp…” Her eyes narrowed on a scene somewhere in the past. “I saw the color—blue. And the silver emblem of something. A tiger, I think.”
Inspector Han’s uniform, I thought. Everything Officer Ky?n had told me matched with Madam Song’s testimony, only I’d learned something new. Something crucial he had not noticed, or had left out. The inspector had not remembered Soyi because he had been too intoxicated to notice anything. That was the reason for his silence. Not because he was hiding his memory of her. Not because he had a secret.
Relief rushed through me, melting every tense knot, making me want to lie flat on the platform. After Madam Song excused herself, I examined every corner of her statement again and again. Inspector Han had nothing to do with the murder, and I felt foolish for having even harbored a shred of doubt. Officer Ky?n had surely intended this to happen and would likely laugh if he knew I’d come all the way to the inn to confirm his words.
But this meant the killer was still out there. Once the annoyance pinching my chest eased, I followed the gleaming thread of coincidences, and it led me back to Councillor Ch’oi.
Twisting around, I looked at the drunkard pouring himself another bowl of rice wine. “Ajusshi, you said their relationship ended because of another woman. How do you know?”
“Everyone knows,” he slurred, the alcohol finally unwinding his tongue, and flushing his face and eyes red. “She left the councillor ’cause of a necklace. Another woman’s gift to him.”
“A mere necklace?”
He gulped down the wine, and wiping his lips with his sleeve, he let out a dry laugh. “My wife still wears a jade ring from her former sweetheart. Why am I so envious?” Through all his layers of ridiculousness, I caught a glimpse of a wound, and it slipped a hoarseness into his whisper. “The dead are gone, yet we live in their shadows.”
A necklace, I thought. Lady O had died clutching one in her fist.
* * *
In the western courtyard, a hanok building stood at the center, flared eaves offering shade to the raised wooden veranda surrounding it. Never had I requested Inspector Han’s audience before, but here I was. Inside, I knelt on the floor before him. He was in half-dress: hat off, his sword resting by the wall, his hair in a topknot and a silk band tied around his head. Seated behind a low-legged table, he rested his hands on his knees and watched me. Wondering, perhaps, what a girl like me had to say.
Sweat dampened my armpits, and I realized with a shock of horror that there was mud splattered on my skirt. Perhaps even on my face. My mind