the naked face || bts

nine

At four o'clock the following afternoon Yoongi left his office and drove to an address near the Seoul train station. It was an ancient, run-down brownstone apartment house. As he pulled up in front of the dilapidated building, Yoongi began to have misgivings. Perhaps he had the wrong address. Then a sign in a window of a first-floor apartment caught his eye:

Kim Seokjin: Private Investigator
Satisfaction Guaranteed

Yoongi alighted from the car. It was a raw, windy day with a forecast of late snow. He moved gingerly across the icy sidewalk and walked into the vestibule of the building. The vestibule smelled of mingled odors of stale cooking and urine. He pressed the button marked 'Kim Seokjin- 1', and a moment later a buzzer sounded. He stepped inside and found Apartment 1. A sign on the door read:

Kim Seokjin: Private Investigator
RING BELL AND ENTER

He rang the bell and entered. Seokjin was obviously a man who cared about external appearances. The office looked as though it had been furnished by someone between a thirteen-year old's pink princess fantasy and... Super Mario. Odds and ends crammed every spare inch of the room. In one corner stood a mirror with a glittery mirror frame. Next to it was a galaxy lamp, and in front of the lamp a Princess Peach figurine. Newspapers and old magazines were piled everywhere. A door to an inner room burst open and Kim Seokjin emerged.

He was tall, and very broad. His body was large and firm, but his face was oval-shaped with delicate features. His dark eyes and full lips were smiling jovially, his hair something between light grey and pink. His individual features seemed odd, the nose to slanting, the lips too plump, the eyes too curved, the eyelashes too long... but somehow, all together, they appeared to be an almost-perfect face.

'Mr. Min?' Seokjin greeted him.

'Dr. Min,' Yoongi said.

'Sit down, sit down.'

Yoongi looked around for a seat. He removed a pile of old magazines from a leather armchair, and gingerly sat down. Seokjin was lowering his bulk into an oversized rocking chair.
'Well, now! What can I do for you?'

Yoongi knew that he had made a mistake. Over the phone he had carefully given Seokjin his full name. A name that had been on the front page of every New York newspaper in the last few days. And he had managed to pick the only private detective in the whole city who had never even heard of him. He cast about for some excuse to walk out.

'Who recommended me?', Seokjin prodded.

Yoongi hesitated, not wanting to offend him. 'I got your name online.'

Seokjin laughed. 'I don't know what I'd do without the internet,' he said. 'Greatest invention since alcohol.' He gave another little laugh.

Yoongi got to his feet. He was dealing with a total idiot. Tm sorry to have taken up your time, Mr. Seokjin,' he said. 'I'd like to think about this some more before I...'

'Sure, sure. I understand.' Seokjin said. 'You'll have to pay me for the appointment, though.'

'Of course.' Yoongi said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out some bills. 'How much is it?'

'Fifty dollars.'

'Fifty-?' Yoongi swallowed angrily, peeled off some bills and thrust them in Seokjin's hand. Seokjin counted the money carefully.

'Thanks a lot.' Seokjin said. Yoongi started towards the door, feeling like a fool.

'Yoongi...'

He turned. Seokjin was smiling at him benevolently, tucking the money into his pocket. 'As long as you're stuck for the fifty dollars.' he said mildly, 'you might as well sit down and tell me what your problem is. Nothing takes more weight off than getting things off your chest.' The irony of it, coming from this silly man, almost made Yoongi laugh. Yoongi's whole life was devoted to listening to people get things off their chests. He studied Seokjin a moment. What could he lose? Perhaps talking it out with a stranger would help. Slowly he went back to his chair and sat down.
  
'You look like you're carrying the weight of the world, Yoongs. I always say that four shoulders are better than two.' Yoongi was not certain how many of Seokjin's nicknames or aphorisms he was going to he able to stand. Seokjin was watching him. 'What brought you here? Women, or money? I always say if you took away women and money, you'd solve most of the world's problems right there.' Seokjin was eyeing him, waiting for an answer.

'I- I think someone is trying to kill me.'

Seokjin blinked. 'You think?'

Yoongi brushed the question aside. 'Perhaps you could give me the name of someone who specializes in investigating that kind of thing.'

'I certainly can.', Seokjin said. 'Kim Seokjin. Best in the country.' Yoongi sighed in despair. 'Why don't you tell me about it, Yoongs?' Seokjin suggested. 'Let's see if the two of us can't sort it out a little.'

Yoongi had to smile in spite of himself. It sounded so much like himself. Just lie down and say anything that comes into your mind. Why not? He took a deep breath and, as concisely as possible, told Seokjin the events of the past few days. As he spoke, he forgot that Seokjin was there. He was really speaking to himself, putting into words the baffling things that had occurred. He carefully said nothing to Seokjin about his fears for his own sanity. When Yoongi had finished, Seokjin regarded him happily.

'You got yourself a bit of a problem there. Either somebody's out to murder you, or you're afraid that you're becoming a schizophrenic paranoiac.' Yoongi looked up in surprise. Score one for Kim Seokjin. Seokjin went on. 'You said there are two detectives on the case. Do you remember their names?', Yoongi hesitated. He was reluctant to get too deeply committed to this man. All he really wanted to do was to get out of there.

'Park Jimin,' he answered, 'and Lieutenant Jungkook.' There was an almost imperceptible change in Seokjin's expression.

'What reason would anyone have to kill you?'

'I have no idea. As far as I know, I haven't any enemies.'

'Oh, come on. Everybody's got a few enemies lying around. I always say enemies give a little salt to the bread of life.' Yoongi tried not to wince.

'Married?'

'No,' Yoongi said.

'Are you gay?'

'That's a bit... look, I've been through all this with the police and-'

'Yeah, only you're paying me to help you,' Seokjin said, unperturbed. 'Owe anyone any money?'
'Just the normal monthly bills.'

'What about your patients?'

'What about them?'

'Well, I always say if you're looking for seashells, go down to the seashore. Your patients are a lot of nuts. Right?'

'Wrong,' Yoongi said curtly. 'They're people with problems.'

'Emotional problems that they can't solve themselves. Could one of them have it in for you? Oh, not for any real reason, but maybe somebody with an imaginary grievance against you.'
'It's possible. Except for one thing. Most of my patients have been under my care for a year or more. In that length of time I've got to know them as well as one human being can know another.'

'Don't they ever get mad at you?', Seokjin asked innocently.

'Sometimes. But we're not looking for someone who's angry. We're looking for a homicidal paranoiac who has murdered at least two people and has made several attempts to murder me.' He hesitated, then made himself go on. 'If I have a patient like that and don't know it, then you're looking at the most incompetent psychoanalyst who ever lived.' He looked up and saw Seokjin studying him.

'First things first.' Seokjin said cheerfully. 'We've gotta do is find out whether someone's trying to kill you, or whether you're mad. Right, Yoongs?' He broke into a broad smile, taking the offence out of his words.

'How?', Yoongi asked.

'Simple,' Seokjin said. 'Your problem is, you're standing at home plate striking at curve balls, and you don't know if anyone's pitching. First we're gonna find out if there's a ball-game going on; then we're gonna find out who the players are. You got a car?'

'Yes.' Yoongi had forgotten about walking out and finding another private detective. He sensed now behind Seokjin's handsome, innocent face and his childish antics a quiet, intelligent capability.

'I think your nerves are shot,' Seokjin said. 'I want you to take a little vacation.'

'When?'

'Tomorrow morning.'

'That's impossible,' Yoongi protested. 'I have patients scheduled...'

Seokjin brushed it aside. 'Cancel them.'

'But what good-'

'Do I tell you how to run your business?' Seokjin asked. 'When you leave here, I want you to go straight to a travel agency. Have them get you a reservation at' - he thought a moment - 'Ilsan. That's a pretty drive up through the highway... is there a garage in the apartment building where you live?'

'Yeah.'

'Okay. Tell them to service your car for the trip. You don't want to have any breakdowns on the road.'

'Couldn't I do this next week? Tomorrow is a full-'

'After you make your reservation, you're going back to your office and call all your patients. Tell them you've had an emergency and you'll be back in a week.'

'I really can't,' Yoongi said. It's out of the-'

'You'd better call Jimin, too.' Seokjin continued. 'I don't want the police hunting for you while you're gone.'

'Why am I doing this?' Yoongi asked.

'To protect your fifty dollars. That reminds me. I'm gonna need another two hundred for a new mirror.'

'But that one's perfectly-'

Seokjin ignored him. 'Plus fifty a day for expenses. I can get up there before dark. Can you leave about seven in the morning?'

'I... I suppose so. What will I find when I get up there?'

'With a little luck, a scorecard.'

Five minutes later, Yoongi was thoughtfully getting into his car. He had told Seokjin that he could not go away and leave his patients on such short notice. But he knew that he was going to. He was literally putting his life into the hands into a Mario-obsessed twenty year old (Was he twenty? It was impossible to tell). As he started to drive away, his eye caught Seokjin's sign in the window.

SATISFACTION GUARANTEED

He'd better be right, Yoongi thought grimly. .

The plan for the trip went smoothly. Yoongi stopped at a travel agency on the main road. They reserved a room for him at Ilsan and provided him with a road map and a variety of colour brochures. Next he telephoned his answering service and arranged for them to call his patients and cancel all his appointments until further notice. He phoned the Nineteenth Precinct and asked for Detective Jimin.

'Jimin's home sick,' said an impersonal voice. 'Do you want his home number?'

'Yes.'

A few moments later he was talking to Jimin. From the sound of Jimin's voice, he had a heavy cold.

'I've decided I need to get out of town for a few days,' Yoongi said. 'I'm leaving in the morning. I wanted to check it with you.'

There was a silence while Jimin thought it over. 'It might not be a bad idea. Where will you go?'

'I thought I'd drive up to Ilsan.'

'All right,' Jimin said. 'Don't worry. I'll clear it with Jungkook.' He hesitated. 'I heard what happened at your office last night.'

'You mean you heard Jungkook's version,' Yoongi said.

'Did you get a look at the men who tried to kill you?'

So Jimin, at least, believed him. 'No.'

'Nothing at all that could help us find them? Colour, age, height?'

'I'm sorry,' Yoongi said. 'It was dark.'

Jimin sniffed. 'Okay. I'll keep looking. Maybe I'll have some good news for you when you get back. Be careful, Doctor.'

'I will,' Yoongi said gratefully. And he hung up. Next he phoned Yungseok's employer and briefly explained Yungseok's situation. There was no choice but to have him sent away as soon as possible. Yoongi then called Namjoon, explained that he had to go out of town for a week, and asked him to make the necessary arrangements for Yungseok. Namjoon agreed. The decks were clear.

The thing that disturbed Yoongi the most was that he would be unable to see Hoseok on Friday. Perhaps he would never see him again. As he drove back towards his apartment, he thought about Kim Seokjin. He had an idea what Seokjin was up to. By having Yoongi notify all his patients that he was going away, Seokjin was making sure that if one of Yoongi's patients was the killer- if there was a killer- a trap, using Yoongi as the bait, would be set for him. Seokjin had instructed him to leave his forwarding address with his telephone exchange and with the doorman at the apartment building. He was making certain that everyone would know where Yoongi was going.

When Yoongi pulled up in front of the apartment house, Mike was there to greet him. 'I'm leaving on a trip in the morning, Mike,' Yoongi informed him. 'Will you make sure the garage services my car and fills the tank?'

'I'll have it taken care of, Dr. Min. What time will you be needing the car?'

'I'll be leaving at seven.' Yoongi sensed Mike watching him as he walked into the apartment building. When he entered his apartment, he locked the doors and carefully checked the windows. Everything seemed to be in order. He took two codeine pills, got undressed, and ran a hot bath, gingerly easing his aching body into it, feeling the tensions soaking out of his back and neck. He lay in the blessedly relaxing tub, thinking.

Why had Seokjin warned him not to let the car break down on the road? Because that was the most likely place for him to be attacked, somewhere on a lonely highway? And what could Seokjin do about it if Yoongi were attacked? Seokjin had refused to tell him what his plan was- if there was a plan. The more Yoongi examined it, the more convinced he became that he was walking into a trap. Seokjin had said he was setting it up for Yoongi's pursuers. But no matter how many times he went over it, the answer always came out the same: the trap seemed designed to catch Yoongi. But why? What interest could Seokjin have in getting him killed? My God, thought Yoongi. I've picked a name at random off the internet and I believe he wants to have me murdered! I am a paranoiac! He felt his eyes beginning to close. The pills and the hot bath had done their work well. Wearily he pulled himself out of the tub, carefully patted his bruised body dry with a fluffy towel, and put on a pair of pyjamas. He got into bed and set the electric alarm clock for six, then fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

At six am, when the alarm went off, Yoongi was instantly awake. As though there had been no time lapse at all, his first thought was, I don't believe in a series of coincidences and I don't believe that one of my patients is a mass murderer. Which means, I am either a paranoiac, or am becoming one. What he needed was to consult another psychoanalyst without delay. He would phone Dr. Robbie. He knew that it would mean the end of his professional career, but
there was no help for it. If he were suffering from paranoia, they would have to cure him. Did Seokjin suspect that he was dealing with a mental case? Was that why he suggested a vacation? Not because he believed anyone was after Yoongi's life, but because he could see the signs of a nervous breakdown? Perhaps the wisest course would be to follow Seokjin's advice and go to Ilsan for a few days. Alone, with all the pressures removed, he could calmly try to evaluate himself, try to reason out when Ms mind had started to trick him, when he had begun to lose touch with reality. Then, when he returned, he would make an appointment with Dr. Robbie and put himself under his care.

It was a painful decision to make, but having made it, Yoongi felt better. He dressed, packed a small suitcase with enough clothes for five days, and carried it out to the elevator. Eddie was not on duty yet, and the elevator was on self-service. Yoongi rode down to the basement garage. He looked round for the attendant, but he was nowhere around. The garage was deserted. Yoongi sported his car parked in a corner against the cement wall. He walked over to it, put his suitcase in the back seat, opened the front door, and eased in behind the wheel. As he reached for the ignition key, a man loomed up at his side from nowhere. Yoongi's heart skipped a beat.

'You're right on schedule.' It was Seokjin.

'I didn't know you were going to see me off.' Yoongi said.

Seokjin beamed at him, his cherubic face breaking into a huge smile, 'I had nothing better to do and I couldn't sleep.' Yoongi was suddenly grateful for the tactful way Seokjin had handled the situation. No reference to the fact that Yoongi had to drive up to the country and take a rest. Well, the least Yoongi could do was to keep up the pretence that everything was normal.

'I decided you were right. I'm going to drive up and see if I can find a scorecard to the ball-game.'
  
'Oh, you don't have to go anywhere for that,' Seokjin said. 'That's all taken care of.'

Yoongi looked at him blankly. 'I don't understand.'

'It's simple. I always say when you want to get to the bottom of anything, you gotta dig.'

'Seokjin...'

Seokjin leaned against the door of the car. 'You know what I found intriguing about your little problem, Yoongs? Seemed like every five minutes somebody was trying to kill you- maybe. Now that "maybe" fascinated me. There was nothing for us to find until we knew if you were going nuts, or whether someone was really after your ass.'

Yoongi looked at him. 'But Ilsan...', he said weakly.

'Oh, you were never gonna go to Ilsan, Yoongs.' He opened the door of the car. 'Step out here.' Bewildered, Yoongi stepped out of the car. 'You see, that was just advertising- I always say if you wanna catch a shark, you gotta bloody up the water first.' Yoongi was watching his face. 'I'm afraid you never would have got to Ilsan,' Seokjin said gently. He walked around to the hood of the cat, fumbled with the catch, and raised the hood. Yoongi walked over to his side. Taped to the distributor head were three sticks of dynamite. Two thin wires were dangling loose from the ignition. 'Booby-trapped,' Seokjin said.

Yoongi looked at him, baffled. 'But how did you...?'

Seokjin grinned. 'I told you, I'm a bad sleeper. I got here around midnight. I paid the nightman to go out and have some fun, and I just kinda waited in the shadows. The nightman'll cost another twenty dollars,' he added. 'I didn't want you to look cheap.' Yoongi felt a sudden wave of affection towards the tall man.

'Did you see who did it?' "

'Nope. It was done before I got here. At six o'clock this morning. I figured no one was gonna show up any more, so I took a look.' He pointed to the dangling wires. 'Real cute. They rigged a second booby-trap so if you lifted the hood all the way, this wire would detonate the dynamite. The same thing would happen if you turned on your ignition. There's enough stuff here to wipe out half the garage.' Yoongi felt suddenly sick to his stomach. Seokjin looked at him sympathetically. 'Cheer up,' he said. 'Look at the progress we've made. We know two things. First of all, we know you're not nuts. And secondly'- the smile left his face- 'we know that somebody is hell bent on murdering you, Yoongs.'