Joo-won’s argument did carry some logic. If both the suspect and the victim had been cohabitating at the crime scene, it was reasonable that their DNA and fingerprints would be present. However, the issue at hand was…
“If there had been fingerprints from someone else on the murder weapon, it might not have been as significant. However, only your traces were found on the kitchen knife,” Yi-soo pointed out.
“It’s infuriating, truly. Did I wipe it with a handkerchief or something? I’ve seen that in movies too.”
“If that were the case, some of the existing fingerprints would likely have been wiped away. However, according to the police investigation, your fingerprints remained intact. Moreover…”
Yi-soo’s gaze remained fixed on a particular passage in the statement. The witness, Pyo Joo-won, had called the police two hours after the time the incident supposedly occurred. According to his testimony, he had been asleep in his bed, and upon awakening, he had discovered the victim’s lifeless body in the living room.
In reality, Pyo Joo-won’s movements remained undocumented by the first-floor CCTV for the four hours leading up to the incident. Even if his assertion of being deeply asleep were true, the notion that he could have missed the sounds of a violent death occurring just outside his door raised logical doubts.
“Is it logically conceivable that you were in such a deep sleep?” Yi-soo probed.
“That part, I truly can’t comprehend… I had worked a night shift the day before and was exhausted. I’m the type who plunges into such a deep slumber that not even an alarm can rouse me once I’m out. Please, Prosecutor, believe me this once. I didn’t do it, honestly. How could someone take another person’s life over a few hundred bucks…!” Joo-won, who had vehemently asserted his innocence, suddenly dissolved into sorrowful tears. As he wept, tears flowed down his cheeks, and his voice quivered with emotion. If this were all an act, he might have deserved an award for best actor.
The police had cautioned Yi-soo not to be misled by his emotional display, as it could very well be an elaborate deception.
But…
For reasons she couldn’t quite pinpoint, something about it led her to consider the possibility that he might be telling the truth. All the evidence pointed decisively at Pyo Joo-won as the culprit, and there were no other suspects to pursue. Prosecuting him for murder seemed like an inevitability, and any prosecutor would have acted without hesitation.
However, Seo Yi-soo’s instincts resisted.
If he’s genuinely innocent…
Ensuring that the real perpetrator faced justice was crucial, but even more critical was preventing the unjust conviction of an innocent person. Yi-soo briefly glanced at the window of the interrogation room, which, from the inside, appeared as an ordinary wall but, from the outside, allowed for one-way surveillance of the interior.
“Mr. Pyo Joo-won.”
With a brief moment of hesitation, she retrieved a photo from inside her jacket, the very identification picture she had received from Su-jeong earlier. Wasn’t there a saying that the eyes possessed the power to recognize someone? She held onto the hope that her intuition would prove incorrect. Her voice was cautious as she inquired, her words measured.
“Have you ever encountered this person before? Perhaps heard Shin Min-yeol mention anything about them?” she whispered.
Pyo Joo-won, who had been anxiously pulling at his hair, lifted his head at Yi-soo’s query. His gaze then shifted down to the photo resting on the desk. He furrowed his brow and blinked in thought.
“I’ve never seen… her?”
“Please, take a moment to reflect. This is important.”
Yi-soo focused intently on Joo-won, his expression tinged with uncertainty. Given their shared residence, he might possess some insight into the relationship between Min-yeol and Su-jeong. Letting out a deep sigh as he wrestled with his memory, Joo-won shook his head as if genuinely unable to recall.
“I have never laid eyes on her before. Who is this woman?”
“…If you have no knowledge of her, that’s understandable.”
He did not appear to be concealing the truth. The deeper they delved into the case, the more confusing it became. So, why had Su-jeong’s business card been discovered in the victim’s diary?
As her thoughts grew increasingly entangled, a sudden, searing pain pierced through her head.
“Ugh…”
The headache surged to an agonizing level, prompting her to rise from her chair, her fingertips instinctively massaging her temples. At this moment, Seo Yi-soo unmistakably needed some respite. Moreover, she urgently needed to establish contact with Su-jeong; the situation demanded immediate attention. With a composed demeanor, Yi-soo stood up from her seat, drawing Joo-won’s natural curiosity as he tracked her departure.
“…We’ll conclude our session for today. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Pyo Joo-won. The police officer who accompanied you is waiting outside, so you can return.”
“Prosecutor, do you trust me? I sense something different about you compared to those inept police officers. I have a mother to care for… Regardless, I can’t go to prison like this. Please uncover the truth. Please?”
Instead of responding to Joo-won’s plea, Yi-soo exited the interrogation room first. Her head pounded so intensely that her vision blurred. Her heart pounded as well, resonating so loudly it seemed to echo in her ears.
Huh…?
At that very moment, a severe wave of dizziness struck the back of Seo Yi-soo’s head. It felt as though someone had forcefully pushed her backward. Slowly, her entire body began to tilt forward.
“Ah…”
Her words were abruptly truncated, like a suspenseful play’s cliffhanger, and simultaneously, her vision plunged into total darkness, as if the curtains had fallen on a stage.