shadow stretching tall in the setting sun, and I wondered why he was here at all. No one got on friendly terms with baekjeongs like the executioner, for baekjeongs were the outcast group forced to live separate from the common people. Their communities were mostly left alone so long as they caused no disturbance, and they survived off money made from work others refused to do: the taking of life. They butchered, made leather, killed stray dogs. And they were the ones summoned by the police to execute criminals.
Then I realized why Shim might have more sympathy for the executioner. He was an outsider himself, a seoja, marked by shame since his illegitimate birth. For a moment, moved by pity, I almost forgot that Shim was the alibi of a cruel tyrant, Inspector Han.
“You were there for the execution too, sir?” I asked kindly.
“I always am,” Shim replied.
Now I noticed Shim’s police robe, red spots staining the white collar. He crouched and rested his hand on the executioner’s trembling shoulders. Perhaps Officer Shim’s words had troubled this baekjeong, a reminder of his inescapable fate: he would kill many more.
Death, it was so final. A finality that did not discriminate, stealing both the young and old, rich and poor.
“Officer,” I whispered, “do you ever grow accustomed to death?”
Shim peered up at me, his eyes reddish-brown, as though he had witnessed so many executions that if he were to cry, blood would flow out instead of tears. “No, Damo Seol,” he replied, his voice soft. As though he were a brother speaking to a little sister. “Seeing a dead person will continue to be difficult.”
Was it difficult even for Lady O’s killer? Surely no one could kill and hide the evidence so thoroughly as to evade Inspector Han’s notice.
“How can you tell if someone has seen death, as you have?” I asked.
“Some cry, some are desperate for distraction, but most of us … most of us go mad.”
* * *
In the early hours of the next day, when the morning dew soaked the ground, we were summoned to the central courtyard. Damos Aejung and Hyeyeon appeared, along with a group of officers. I examined each pale and tired face for a sign of madness, unable to forget what Officer Shim had said. Surely no human being could be so hardened and unfeeling as not to be affected by the murder of another person.
Inspector Han’s commanding voice filled the courtyard. “We do not have a warrant yet, but we will make our way to Lord O’s mansion and demand entry. I want a thorough search of the place. As for the women’s quarter, the damos will search Lady O’s chamber. Bring anything of interest to me or Senior Officer Shim, and keep your eyes open for her journal. I need that journal.”
From beneath my lashes, I glanced up. Inspector Han’s eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, shadows smudged beneath; the face once shining with health was now gaunt and pale. The usual crispness of his robe had been replaced by wrinkles, and even from where I stood, a spot of crimson was visible on his sleeve, perhaps from a round of blood-splattering interrogation. Perhaps this was the appearance of an inspector gone mad.
Pain pulsated by my temple, growing stronger and stronger, until I felt my entire head vibrating, as though someone had struck me. I wanted this all to be over, I wanted to be done with this investigation, but I feared it never would be over.
* * *
Our journey did not take long; the sky was still a shade of purple-blue as we entered Lord O’s mansion and gathered in the main courtyard. Inspector Han stepped forward and bowed, paying his respects to only Matron Kim, for her husband had returned to his governing post in Gwangju after briefly mourning for his daughter here.
She did not look pleased. Her hands were clasped within her wide sleeves, and she was garbed in a white mourning gown, not only for the king but also for her daughter, it seemed. Her black hair was twisted back into a braided coil so tight that the corners of her eyes were tugged dagger sharp.
“You are here again, Inspector,” Matron Kim said, her voice brusque. “Why?”
“Forgive us for this intrusion. I have come to ask once again for permission to search Lady O’s private chamber.”
“My answer remains the same. You dishonored us by having my daughter examined without the presence of family. You will get nothing from me.”