I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head

The police station's press room is packed, cameras flashing and reporters jostling for position. I stand at the back, watching with a mixture of disbelief and frustration as Kim Eunji takes the podium. Her appearance is carefully crafted - she looks tired but determined, her police uniform replaced by a modest blouse and skirt.

"Thank you all for coming," she begins, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. "I've called this press conference to address the ongoing investigation surrounding Detective Sung's death, and to shed light on the unjust treatment I've endured at the hands of my own colleagues."

The room falls silent, all eyes fixed on Eunji.

"I am not just a suspect in this case," she continues. "I am a victim. A victim of a system that values the reputation of a male detective over the truth. A system that is all too willing to sacrifice a female officer's career to protect its own image."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. I can see several reporters scribbling furiously in their notepads.

"The fact is, I am being targeted because I am a woman in a male-dominated field. Detective Sung had a more promising career ahead of him, and it's easier for the department to pin his death on me than to face the uncomfortable truths about one of their rising stars."

Eunji's voice breaks slightly, a tear glistening in her eye. Whether it's genuine emotion or a calculated performance, it's effective. The reporters are hanging on her every word.

"I have dedicated my life to serving and protecting this community. Now, in my hour of need, I find myself persecuted by the very institution I've served faithfully. I am innocent of any wrongdoing, and I implore the public and the media to look closely at how this investigation is being conducted."

She pauses, scanning the room. Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment, and I see a flicker of something - defiance, perhaps, or challenge.

She takes a deep breath before continuing. "When I was in high school, Sung... he raped me." A collective gasp ripples through the room. "As a result, I was forced to seek an illegal abortion. The pain of that experience has haunted me every day since."

Eunji pauses, allowing her words to sink in. The reporters are silent.

"After high school, I lost track of Sung. I had no idea he had become a police officer. When I saw him at the National Forensic Service training, it was the first time I'd seen him in almost a decade. I was shocked and terrified."

She grips the sides of the podium, steadying herself. "On the night in question, Sung came to my room, claiming he wanted to apologize. I didn't want to make a scene, so I let him in. But then..." her voice breaks slightly, "he tried to assault me again."

The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Eunji's next words come out in a rush. "That's how I got injured. That's why I developed an infection. But I managed to fight him off, and he left. That was the last time I saw him alive.

I don't know how he died or what happened to him after he left my room."

Eunji looks up, her eyes scanning the room. "I am not a murderer. I am a survivor who has been wrongly accused. I've spent my career upholding the law, and I would never take justice into my own hands, no matter how much pain someone caused me."

She straightens her shoulders, her voice growing stronger. "I'm coming forward now because I refuse to be silenced or shamed any longer. I call on the police department to conduct a thorough, unbiased investigation. The truth is all I want."

Eunji pauses, taking a sip of water before continuing. Her eyes, previously downcast, now look directly into the cameras.

"There's one more crucial point I need to address," she says, her voice gaining strength. "The handling of this investigation has been deeply flawed from the start."

The room falls silent, anticipating her next words.

"Initially, Detective Sung's case was assigned to the local police, as it should have been. However, it was then reassigned to a special team at the behest Inspector Han. This team includes a detective who was also one of the participants of the training as well as a suspect, creating a clear conflict of interest."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd of reporters. Eunji raises her voice slightly to be heard over the growing noise.

"I urge the police leadership to investigate this decision. Why was the case taken from the local police?"

She leans forward, her words sharp and clear. "Is it because it was easier to control the narrative this way? Is it because they thought they could manipulate me or pressure me into a false confession?"

The reporters are scribbling furiously, cameras flashing continuously.

"This questionable reassignment must be scrutinized. I call on the police commissioner to review this decision immediately. We need an independent team to investigate not just Detective Sung's death, but also the irregular handling of this entire investigation."

Eunji's gaze sweeps the room, her expression a mix of determination and barely contained frustration. "I have always believed in the integrity of our police force. Now, I'm asking for that integrity to be demonstrated. Investigate thoroughly, investigate impartially, and let the truth come to light - no matter where it leads."

She steps back from the podium, her final words ringing in the air. "Thank you."

The press room erupts into chaos, reporters shouting questions and demanding further comment.

As the press room erupts into chaos, I remain in my position at the back, my eyes fixed on Eunji. The clamor of shouted questions and the frenetic energy of the reporters fade into background noise as I focus on her every movement.

Eunji steps away from the podium with a practiced calm that belies the bombshell she's just dropped. Her face is a mask of composure, but I catch a fleeting glimpse of something in her eyes – relief, perhaps, or a hint of triumph.

As she moves towards the side of the stage, a middle-aged man appears at her elbow. He's wearing a crisp police uniform, the Senior Inspector rank badge clearly visible on his shoulder. I've never seen him before, but the way he guides Eunji with a gentle hand on her back suggests a level of familiarity and trust.

The man leans in close to Eunji, speaking softly into her ear. She nods almost imperceptibly in response. There's an ease to their interaction that speaks of a long-standing working relationship.

As they make their way through the crowd of reporters, the Senior Inspector acts as a buffer, shielding Eunji from the most aggressive journalists. His presence seems to lend her an additional layer of credibility and support.

Just before they exit the room, Eunji's eyes sweep across the crowd one last time. For a split second, our gazes lock. There's a challenge in her look, a silent dare for me to pursue this new angle of the investigation.

Then, in a blink, she's gone, disappearing through a side door with the Senior Inspector close behind.

***

The atmosphere in the meeting room is electric with tension. Han paces back and forth, his face flushed with anger. The rest of us sit around the table, avoiding eye contact.

"How?" Han suddenly shouts, slamming his hand on the table. "How did Eunji get hold of all this information? These were confidential details of our investigation!"

The room falls into an uncomfortable silence. No one dares to speak up.

"Someone here must have leaked it," Han continues, his eyes darting from one team member to another. "This is a serious breach of protocol. It could jeopardize our entire case!"

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, my mind racing. How did Eunji know so much about our investigation? The details she revealed in her press conference were far too specific to be mere guesswork.

Suddenly, Han's phone rings. He answers it, his face growing increasingly grim as he listens. After a terse "Yes, sir," he ends the call.

"I've been summoned to the Commissioner's office," he announces, his voice tight. "Nobody leave this room until I get back."

With that, Han storms out, leaving us in a suffocating silence. The tension in the room is palpable as we all look at each other, suspicion clear in everyone's eyes. Who among us could have betrayed the team?

As the minutes tick by, I can't help but reflect on the implications of Eunji's move. With her public statement, she's not only gained public sympathy but also made it incredibly difficult for us to pursue our investigation against her. The accusation of bias and improper procedure hangs over our heads like a dark cloud.

We've hit a deadlock. If we push forward aggressively, we risk appearing as if we're persecuting a victim. If we back off, we might be letting a potential murderer walk free. The case that once seemed straightforward has turned into a labyrinth of ethical dilemmas and political minefields.

As I look around at my colleagues, their faces etched with worry and frustration, I realize that this case has become about much more than just solving a murder. It's now a test of our integrity as a team and the credibility of our entire department.

The silence in the room is broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall, each second feeling like an eternity as we wait for Han's return and wonder what the fallout from this latest development will be.