Geumcheon hoped he could get the man to spill something in his vulnerable state. Yet, if he had been willing to answer their questions, he wouldn’t have swallowed the drugs and severed his tongue with his own teeth in the first place. Jang Hun had uttered nothing but “I don’t know” during the past three days. The detectives shook their heads, saying they’d never seen such a stubborn devil since the foundation of the Police Division. Even if he hadn’t drugged himself, Jang Hun wouldn’t have gotten out of there in one piece. He looked so broken that it seemed as if his bones were hanging loose in the sack of his body.
On the verge of losing consciousness, Jang Hun blinked while listening to Geumcheon. When he heard the word pistol, he opened his eyes and stared at the detective, as if he had come to, and then spat something out. Blood sprayed from his mouth, and although Geumcheon leapt away, blood spattered his face and chest, like stray bullets.
The underling standing beside him shouted, “You bastard!” and kicked Jang Hun in the side. Jang Hun closed his eyes and let out several painful moans, which sounded as though they emanated from the bottom of a deep barrel.
The doctor arrived. Geumcheon had had hot water brought in and had taken off his shirt to wash it. In his undershirt, he wiped his face and greeted the doctor. “Take a look at him. We must revive him, no matter what.” There was a sense of urgency in Geumcheon’s voice. The doctor was used to such cases. He presumed the prisoner had been pummeled to the brink of death by Judo experts. He felt for a pulse and was stunned to learn that the man had taken poison.
“How long ago was that? Has he been spitting blood because of the poison?”
“No, he bit his own tongue.”
Ignoring the prisoner’s muffled moans, the doctor cradled the man’s blood-drenched head as if it were the head of a cow that had just been slaughtered and forced his mouth open. He pulled out his tongue. Jang Hun merely groaned, having no energy left to scream.
The doctor muttered, “It’s been torn in three or four places, but it’s not totally severed.”
The police had obtained a clue from Gyeong-ae’s cousin. When they learned that Pi-hyeok had come to see him, and that he had helped shave Pi-hyeok’s head before his departure, they began to torture Gyeong-ae and Byeong-hwa, who blamed everything on Jang Hun. Gyeong-ae insisted that she had introduced Pi-hyeok to Byeong-hwa only because he’d threatened her. She didn’t like the idea of Byeong-hwa getting involved with him because they were falling in love, and Byeong-hwa was about to distance himself from the movement anyway. She asserted that after consulting with Byeong-hwa, she also introduced Pi-hyeok to Jang Hun. Byeong-hwa in turn claimed that he and Pil-sun’s father had been beaten because Jang Hun had been angry that Byeong-hwa and Gyeong-ae had backed off from the movement. He insisted that the beating had also been a warning against revealing Pi-hyeok’s secret. Gyeong-ae and Byeong-hwa knew their story would not contradict Jang Hun’s. After Jang Hun beat up Byeong-hwa, the two had become close again. At one point, Jang Hun had said, “If anything happens, just say whatever is best for you. I’ll keep silent no matter what, and if it gets really bad, I’ll — ” He gestured with his hand that he would cut his throat. Byeong-hwa and Gyeong-ae had worked out their story in advance and had full confidence in Jang Hun.
Jang Hun did as he said he would. However, he had no idea that it would be a dose of cocaine — which he had obtained on a lark from a friend visiting from Manchuria — that would end his life. He had put the cocaine in his vest pocket. It had slipped through a hole in the seam and had lodged at the bottom of his vest.
When Jang Hun was thrown into jail, the policeman on duty had cleaned out his pockets but missed the cocaine. Jang Hun himself had forgotten all about it. After suffering through three days and nights, he wanted to die. He remembered his promise to Byeong-hwa, and he suddenly thought of the cocaine, as if someone had whispered the word in his ear. He couldn’t remember what had become of it but checked in his vest and felt something at the bottom of it. He was as happy as a jail breaker who had discovered an iron pick.
Jang Hun tore the worn-out lining and a small paper bag fell into his hand. Yet now that the cocaine was in his possession, his courage faltered. Despair and fear made him dizzy.
Should I die now? But what then? He scolded himself for being so cowardly. If I die now, it’s not because I can’t endure the pain. Nor does it make sense that I’ll be dying on behalf of dozens of my comrades. I just don’t have the sacrificial spirit to rescue them and their families from pain and misfortune. With my death I’ll protect a small incubator that will determine the fate of our cause. Several gifted comrades with superior scientific intelligence are gathering together to perform important research — research that may provide breakthroughs in the near future. For now, it’s my responsibility to protect these scientists at all costs, even though by doing so I will never see the fruits of their efforts. My death is worthwhile — for this, if nothing else.
As he drank some water after dinner, Jang Hun tossed the cocaine into his mouth as if he were taking an aspirin. He did it mechanically, in a daze. Now well past his fear of death, he paid close attention to how the drug moved through his system. When he cut his tongue, he was barely aware of what had happened; the poison had advanced too far.
And so, one daybreak, Jang Hun’s life ended at the age of twenty-seven.
Father’s Case
“Father, where is Grandfather’s will? We’ve got to have it if we’re ever going to get out of here. You’re letting me go now, but Pil-sun, Yi Pil-sun, did you release her? Let me see her. Don’t beat her. I know that she’s innocent. Pistol? I don’t know. I’m sorry. Thank you. Can I go home when I get better?”
In his delirium, Deok-gi rattled on, opening his eyes wide and shutting them again.
Deok-gi hadn’t completely recovered from the flu when he was taken into custody, but he decided to conceal his condition. Actually, he was so weighed down with worries that he had little time to think about his fever.
After having been escorted to his house, he spent two more nights in a cell that was as cold as it was outside. His temperature rose, and it was difficult for him to sit up straight. The next morning, as he was being taken out, he collapsed at the threshold of his cell. They dragged him into an interrogation room, but fortunately, it was the High Police chief who had summoned him. Seeing how Deok-gi’s eyes flickered and how he stammered, the chief hurriedly called the doctor, exchanged opinions with his staff, and had Deok-gi confined to the medical-school hospital with the understanding that he would take responsibility for this measure. They wouldn’t allow Deok-gi to go home, and a brawny policeman stood guard at his bed at all hours. His mother and wife took turns taking care of him, but no one else was allowed access. Pil-sun’s father was in the same hospital, and Pil-sun’s mother had come as soon as she heard the news, but she was not permitted to see Deok-gi. For the first time, Deok-gi’s mother and wife were grateful for the detective’s actions.
“What a relief that all my assets are gone. Don’t worry, Mother. I’m not going to let them kick you all into the street.” He talked in his sleep and opened his eyes as if he were fully conscious. His mother’s eyes were wet with tears.
Deok-gi’s wife nursed him for three days without budging from her place near his bed. She didn’t bother about her appearance and didn’t even wash her face properly. Though her mother-in-law had urged her to take a nap, she didn’t lie down once. She would doze off in her chair, using her arm as a pillow. Now that the baby was weaned, she had left him at home to be fed thin gruel. Not allowing herself to think about the child, she devoted all her energy to caring for her husband. That day her mother-in-law went home to rest, and her own mother would come to keep her company that night.