occupied the office now. Gray light glowed through the screens, illuminating the tall bookshelf, the black-lacquered document box, and the low-legged table, washing the folding screen behind him in a chilling hue.
My mind quickly drew out a plan: once I was certain of our isolation, I would escape this office and outrun everyone while they were caught unawares. The killer could already be carrying the palanquin up the mountain, to the shed, and what would happen to Woorim then? I could not linger here too long.
Raising my lashes, I meant to look up at Inspector Han’s gaunt and bony face, but I remembered his skill at reading people. He might notice my scheming thoughts in the pools of my eyes. I watched his broad shoulders and neck instead, and it returned, another unwanted flickering of memory; me, pressing my ear against a boy’s shoulder, warm as an ondol. The thud-thud-thud of the furnace pumping out smoke and heating the stone plates hidden beneath his coarse tunic. Jeong-yun-ah … Brother’s voice as he turned to look at me with his pale-spooky eyes. His round, youthful face thinned into bones and sharp angles.
All the pores in my body opened, drenching me with cold sweat, and my heart pounded so fiercely. Not my brother. Never my brother. I didn’t want to be in this man’s presence right now. I couldn’t even remember why I had come here, but then I looked down at my empty hands, and the image of Woorim’s pleading gaze filled them.
“Well?” Inspector Han prompted me again. “What is it you wish to tell me?”
I could still hear Hyeyeon’s voice outside the office. As I bit my lower lip, my mind raced. Perhaps I could save Woorim another way. For here I was before the man who’d had her kidnapped, and I was convinced of this for one reason. The bamboo hat man must have been spying on Woorim to have known that she’d be at the haunted mansion earlier today. Coincidentally, those under the inspector’s direct order—Hyeyeon and three other police officers—had been spying on the house of Woorim’s mistress. Perhaps the bamboo hat man was one of his spies as well, ordered to kidnap Woorim.
If this was the case, Inspector Han had the power to also change his mind and let her go. I would have to convince him. It would be a risk, one that might turn out horribly wrong, but I remembered what the inspector himself had taught me: find the person’s weakness, and grab it.
“I found it,” I whispered.
“Found what?”
“The robe you left in the House of Bright Flowers. The one covered in blood.”
He froze as though someone had run a sword through him. “Have you told anyone of this?”
“No.” I raised my chin, to show him I was a force to be reckoned with, though inside, every bone in me shook. “It was Lady O’s blood, wasn’t it?”
The corner of his lips curled, so slightly. “Where is the robe.” It was not a question; it was a command.
With just enough steel in my voice, I said, “No one will know of this, sir, if you help Woorim.”
“Woorim?” Inspector Han remained still, but I saw his fingers flinch. “What do you know about Maid Woorim?”
“Her mistress guided me safely down from Mount Inwang after the tiger incident. I promise you, sir, I will not dig any deeper.”
“Dig deeper into what?”
“Into your past. If you return Woorim safely.”
“Return her?” he asked, sounding surprised. “What do you mean, return her?”
“She won’t say a word against you. I’ll make sure of that.”
“Me?” His voice sharpened. “Whatever makes you think I know where she is?”
“I’m sure you have your reason for what you are doing. I’ll never tell anyone. Not about Ahn or Lady O, either. I promise.”
“So this is what it was all about. You think I am involved,” he said as I looked up into his eyes again. For a disturbing instant, I saw my own eyes staring back at me, and I had to look away. “You seem completely certain.”
He stood up, so calmly, as though he were rising to collect another book from his shelf. He crossed the room and stopped before the sliding door. Without even looking at me, he said quietly, “Let me say this only once. Do not get in my way again, or I will knock you down—”
“I have your robe.” I spoke to his turned back, the tremor in my voice threatening to betray my bravado. “You can make me