Deok-gi was worried that he might have missed the opportunity to take a make-up exam and figured he’d better leave for Kyoto as soon as possible. Realistically, he couldn’t attend Keijo Imperial University while playing the master of his household. He might be able to finish studying in Japan if he delegated the household’s external affairs to Secretary Ji and the manager of the rice refinery, while letting his mother take over internal affairs and money matters. Actually, this arrangement would be good for his mother; her hysteria might subside if she were occupied with the household accounts.
Although Pil-sun wouldn’t accept his help willingly, Deok-gi couldn’t turn a blind eye to her situation, no matter how hard he tried. She stole her way into his heart, unbidden, and he couldn’t help but pity her. He didn’t want to make her his concubine, but again he wondered why they should deceive themselves and conceal their feelings.
A couple of days passed. Deok-gi was thinking of going out for fresh air one afternoon when the phone rang. It was Byeong-hwa. He hadn’t been in touch since he had pressed Deok-gi for the thousand won.
“Won-sam was taken away a while ago. Is everything all right over there?”
“Where was he taken?”
Immediately, Deok-gi remembered the rumor he had heard. Someone must have tipped off the police. Deok-gi knew that nothing would come of it, but it irritated him that his departure for Kyoto would have to be put off once again.
He found it odd that it wasn’t the Jongno Police Station that had taken Won-sam but the Police Division. Byeong-hwa advised Deok-gi to stay put, because it looked like the store was under surveillance; he would keep Deok-gi informed by phone. At dusk, Byeong-hwa called again. Won-sam’s wife had been trailed and had been arrested along with Pil-sun. Gyeong-ae hadn’t come to the store that day; it appeared she had been taken in for questioning as well. Clearly, more was going on than an investigation into Deok-gi’s household.
“Was it the High Police or the Judicial Police? If it’s the High Police, I know someone who can get me information.”
“It’s not clear.”
As he hung up the phone, Deok-gi wondered whether he should go see Kimura, the chief of the High Police. Deok-gi knew Kimura from his Jongno Police Station days. He used to see him from time to time when Deok-gi had acted as his grandfather’s Japanese interpreter; as a wealthy, influential figure, his grandfather had been a representative of an organization of land overseers and a member of a poverty-relief committee.
If word had gotten out that an investigation was in progress because of the rumor concerning his grandfather’s death, Deok-gi would be obliged to see Kimura. It pained him that Pil-sun should suffer in a cold cell. Mulling over the various ways he could help, Deok-gi went to see Byeong-hwa after dinner.
As Deok-gi had surmised, both the Judiciary and High Police were involved.
“It had happened the day before in the late afternoon. High Police Chief Kimura had been smoking near the stove in his office, idly thinking that it was time to go home, when Geumcheon, a section chief, came in and urged him to make a final decision.
“Chief, how about we begin rounding them up this evening?”
“What did the guys say?” Kimura sounded reluctant.
“What do they really know? What matters is that we’re sure, and since we’ve already put our hands on it, we’d better go all the way.”
Section Chief Geumcheon was dissatisfied with the High Police chief’s casual attitude toward the case. It wasn’t that he was unaware of his boss’s reasons; when Kimura was head of the Jongno Police Station, he was rather close to Jo Deok-gi’s grandfather. They couldn’t treat the rich in such a cavalier manner. The chief’s ambivalence made Geumcheon even more eager to take action. Unwilling to soft-pedal his suspicions, he was sure that his hunch was correct.
Of course, the situation concerning Deok-gi and his family was another matter and could be handed over to the Judiciary Police depending on what developed, but Geumcheon, as an inspector of the High Police, had another goal. If Deok-gi’s grandfather had in fact been poisoned and the main culprit was Jo Deok-gi, Geumcheon was certain that Kim Byeong-hwa was behind it. When a rich man’s son and a communist are so close, it isn’t merely a friendship between old schoolmates. The Kyoto Police Division’s investigation, conducted at the request of the Keijo police, showed that although Deok-gi had not acted in a particularly suspicious manner, the bookcase in his boardinghouse was noticeably ridden with books on Marx and Lenin. Furthermore, Deok-gi had given Byeong-hwa a thousand won to help him open a business — this after the two young men had been frequenting Bacchus throughout the winter, a bar whose proprietress was suspected of communist inclinations. Based on these facts, it looked like Jo Deok-gi could be what they called a sympathizer. And when one considered that the Jo family assets, for no apparent reason, had been passed over Jo Sang-hun, the legal inheritor, and given to the grandson, it certainly seemed that Byeong-hwa had to have played a role in some kind of conspiracy. The situation had already lent itself to such speculations, but the rumor that the old man had been poisoned and that the doctors had been bribed fanned the flames of Geumcheon’s suspicions. It was time to take matters into his own hands.
The police chief had kept Geumcheon at bay for several days, insisting that they wait until they had obtained solid evidence, but he finally gave in to his subordinate’s conviction.
The police chief, wary of his underling’s ambitious zeal, had another goal in mind. Two or three months had passed since the winter roundup, and it stood to reason that the remaining agitators would be engaged in something or other, though everything appeared calm on the surface. Kim Byeong-hwa had, out of the blue, started a grocery business — a Japanese-style grocery at that. Numerous pieces of intelligence poured in from overseas but only one or two out of ten were useful. No matter how many of his informants he tapped, he wasn’t able to get any further details on the activities of the agitators still at large. At present, the leaders in Seoul had more or less been rounded up in one big sweep, and of the moderates, Kim Byeong-hwa and Jang Hun were the principal figures. But no one knew what might lurk beneath the tag “moderate.” The chief had to admit that Geumcheon was on the right track.
In any event, after the police chief consented, Geumcheon mobilized his subordinates and began rounding up the suspects, starting at the bottom of the ladder.
When Deok-gi arrived at Sanhaejin, the doors were tightly shut. He feared the worst. As he was turning away from the store, dejected, Pil-sun’s mother approached him from out of the darkness.
“It’s you!” she cried out. “What brings you here this late?”
“I heard your daughter was taken away. You must be so anxious!”
“I don’t know what to do. Byeong-hwa was arrested a while ago. He called me at the hospital and told me to meet him in front of the Gyeonggi Provincial Government Office to give me the keys to the store and the money. They dragged him off right away. I don’t know what’s going on. What should I do?” The woman was on the verge of tears.
“How is your husband doing?”
“I can’t believe this is happening. My husband’s pneumonia is getting worse, and we’ve ended up making trouble for other people. I see nothing but darkness.” She fumbled with the keys as she let them in. There was a chill in the air. The neat rows of groceries on the shelves were untouched by the recent turbulence.
While Pil-sun’s mother tidied up, Deok-gi called Bacchus and learned that Gyeong-ae’s mother had been taken to the Police Division as well.