Accused

1:08 PM Thursday, December 14

"The cause of death is the lack of oxygenated blood to the brain and the large volume of blood lost," the examiner explains to me as he stands over the pale body on the table. "The clean slice in his throat managed to sever his carotid artery sending oxygenated blood to the brain and his jugular vein that takes deoxygenated blood out of the brain, and also managed a hole in his trachea to hinder breathing." He hands me the report and I flip through the pages. "There were no other injuries on his body, indicating there was no struggle and the attack was very fast. It was a very quick, violent death."

"Thank you, Doctor," I bow in gratitude and the examiner exits the room, leaving me with the body. I approach it carefully. The peaceful expression on his face even in death leads me to believe that he lived a fulfilling life with the boys in that house. The tear-stained face of Min Yoongi flashes through my head. Who would want to kill this responsible, loving man?

When I return to my office, I take my marker and write next to the photo of the neck wound:

Time of death: Around 6:30 PM Wed Dec 15

Another thought dawns on me as I stare at the picture of Seokjin's neck wound. The slice was made in a clean sweep, almost expertly done and with enough force that the cartilage of the trachea was actually damaged. This means that the suspect has to be fairly well built, and either is an experienced killer or has extensive knowledge of human anatomy. Maybe Seokjin's family is caught up in mafia business and now they're coming after their son as revenge?

I sit at my desk and record these inferences in my notes. I'll have to prioritize interviewing the roommates and the family then.

With that, I gather my notebook and my bag, determining to visit Seokjin's apartment at once. I have a promise to keep.

1:52 AM Thursday, December 14

I don't wait very long before the door opens, a tall man with light pink hair and golden skin gracing my sight. His face remains in a permanently sullen expression hidden by his need for composure.

"Detective Lim Hee Chan," I introduce myself, showing my badge. "I'm on the case for Kim Seokjin's homicide."

The man nods at me and offers his hand, a small excuse of a polite smile shaping his full lips. "Kim Namjoon," he introduces himself in a rich, respectful tone. I notice the puffiness under his small eyes exemplified by his dark circles.

I accept his gesture of greeting. "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course," he mumbles, motioning me inside.

I enter their modest apartment. There aren't too many decorations or furniture in the living room space: two chocolate brown couches in an L shape and a matching recliner surrounding a round, glass coffee table, a dark blue area rug underneath, and a TV on a stand directly across from the seating area. The space opens into the dining room area in the back with a large, rectangular espresso wood table with seven black leather chairs around it, the kitchen walled off to its right with a cutout view window, and a corridor leading to the bedrooms on the other side of that. Just enough room to accommodate seven boys in their early 20s.

Well, now only six boys.

"I'm very sorry for coming unannounced like this," I apologize sincerely.

"That's fine, it's your job," he waves off, shutting the door gently. "And thank you for taking the case for our hyung. We were actually hoping to hear from you soon. But first, would you like some coffee?"

"Um, sure, thank you," I answer, removing my shoes in the doorway before stepping into the living area.

The man first walks to the dining room and brings one of the chairs to the coffee table for me before sauntering into the kitchen. "Do you want any milk or sugar?" he calls.