“Why do you think he’s doing this?” Nora asked.
The congressman thought.
“You said something about debt.”
“Mm. His mom’s been the hospital for years, and he ran into some bad lenders a while back. He’s got too many bills to pay.”
Kim’s eyes narrowed, “How come I didn’t know about that?”
The answer was obvious. Nora raised an eyebrow, “Would you have willingly hired a financially unstable two-faced dog if you knew?”
No. Point made.
“Senator Song pays his bills, but her system is performance-based. If he doesn’t do well, he won’t get rewarded. By paying a little at a time, she gets to keep him longer and work him harder. He’s probably exhausted by now. And you can use that.”
Before the congressman could speak again, she sat up a bit straighter in her seat, “He was a good secretary to you, wasn’t he? Feelings aside? If you win him over, you’ll keep a good employee and have an informant who was originally on the other side.”
“So, what,” Kim wasn’t convinced, “I start paying him under the table?”
“You don’t have to. Move his mom to a better hospital and foot the bill. Make an event out of it if you can. You’ll get better publicity, he’ll be thankful, and Senator Song won’t be able to touch him with so many eyes watching him. If you claim him using good means he’ll act out of loyalty rather than fear, and he won’t be able to trouble you. Switching sides will be easy.”
This made sense. The politician stared out the windshield, his eyes moving. He was thinking things through. Finally, he turned.
“Are you sure you don’t want to work for me?” he asked, “I can make you a PR manager—”
Nora didn’t have time to hide the disgust on her face, “No. Please. I have standards.”
He almost hissed at the remark.
“I’m flattered, though,” she added to lessen the blow.
Nora felt that this was the moment to make her exit. She slid out of the car before Kim could reach over to stop her.
“Hold on, I’m not finished talking—”
“I told you everything,” Nora replied.
“But you haven’t. I still have questions.”
Nora waited, “Like?”
“Like why’d you break into my house?” he asked, “You did break in, didn’t you?”
That was a hole in the story. Nora pursed her lips and decided it would be best not to answer.
“Hello?” Kim pressed.
She sighed, “Let me keep a few secrets, won’t you? You should be thanking me.”
The answer confused him, but Nora pressed on, “I gave you information, so I don’t owe you anymore. I’m leaving.”
Nora bent down to pick up her box but was interrupted by a waving hand. Kim leaned across his passenger side with a business card. Nora was reluctant.
“Take it,” he urged, “Just in case you change your mind about that job.”
“I won’t,” Nora promised, “You’re a dirty cheater. You disgust me.”
But she took the card anyways. It was always handy to have a few politician’s numbers lying around.
After a few mumbling phrases the congressman drove off, and Nora was happy to see him go. She pocketed the card and checked her phone. The sky was turning lighter, so slow that she could barely notice it, but she didn’t feel too tired. This wasn’t the first of her sleepless nights, and the small naps she managed between her questionings were enough to pull her through.
Besides, it wasn’t the right time to think about sinking into bed. There was still business to take care of.
Nora turned around, and Daniel was too slow to hide from her peering eyes. He had been slinked into his corner the entire time, his cigarette long burned out, and when she skipped over, he made a show of posing as nonchalantly as he could. He’d been caught. He knew that. But his pride wouldn’t allow his dignity to drop.
He stuck his cigarette butt into his mouth and spat it out just as quickly- the stub was so short he almost swallowed it. Nora laughed through her nose.
“Working overtime, Mr. Detective?” she asked, her light tone trying to disguise her amusement.
He coughed, “Smoke break.”
“Ah. Smoke break. You’ve been out here for about half an hour. How many cigarettes did you manage to get through?”
Only one. But he didn’t say that. He looked away. He crossed his arms across his chest and coughed again.
Nora smiled and tilted her head, “I could report you for being a peeping tom, y’know. Did you have fun watching? Did you get anything out of it?”
The detective refused to meet her eyes.
“Hmm?” she asked again.
He’d been watching for so long. Nora noticed him almost as soon as she had met Kim’s car, but could hear that he was sticking around more out of curiosity than duty. She didn’t mind. She didn’t oust him. Only she had the power to hear what was going on from that distance, so she wasn’t worried about what to day in front of him.
But the way he stared from his dark corner was strange. She couldn’t walk off without investigating, and it was worth seeing the man who’d caused her so much trouble getting stuck between a rock and a hard place.
She examined him as he kept his silence and suddenly frowned, “Wait, you heard us?”
He blinked. She wasn’t supposed to know.
“There’s no way,” she muttered, “Do you have super powers or something??”
The detective felt too uncomfortable to find an answer for her, but that didn’t stop her from guessing. A brief moment passed, then—
“Did you… read our lips?”
He glared.
“How the hell did she—?"
From Nora’s perspective, the detective’s eyes were a little abnormal. They were clear, almost glassy, and supported extremely heavy bags. They looked exhausted and strained, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the long night shift or the stress. To be able to see the lips of someone twenty feet away, in the dark of the night, and on top of that decipher what that person was trying to say from the movement of their mouth? She wouldn’t have believed it if she wasn’t strange herself.
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She stared. She wondered. How much was he able to figure out? Her back was facing him for most of the conversation, so there must be some holes in his version of the story, but… he could have filled in the blanks himself.
Nora sighed, “You really live up to your reputation, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer. She wasn’t going to get much out of him like this, so she dropped her box at his feet and hoisted herself onto the side wall next to him. She towered over him. He didn’t like that. He fished another cigarette out of his pack and bit into it.
“So?” she asked, “What do you know? I’m curious.”
Finally, he mumbled through clenched teeth, “I know that you’re a liar.”
His lighter sparked, and a cloud of smoke wafted into Nora’s face. She waved it away, “I’m a saint. I saved a man’s reputation. What gives you that idea?”
“If there was nothing on that memory card, you would have handed it over.”
Ah. She was caught.
“If he was half as smart as you , he wouldn’t have driven away like that,” she praised.
“Where is it?”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she reached down and quickly slid her hand under Daniel’s belt. He yelped, and before he could grab her and swat her away, she had retreated, a small black card in between her fingers.
“Thanks for keeping it safe for me,” she grinned.
The detective stared, horrified. The cigarette dropped out of his mouth.
“How—”
“When you tackled me,” Nora replied. She unzipped the camera bag on her side, pulled out the device, and slipped its strap over her neck. While she slotted the card in, she smirked, “To think that you had it this entire time. That would have saved you a lot of trouble.”
He couldn’t process the information. Nora glanced at his shock and apologized for his benefit.
“Sorry about that. The best place to hide it is the last place you’d look.”
He was too upset to respond.
“If you went to the bathroom?” she added, “Game over. Thanks for staying dehydrated.”
She turned the camera on and pressed a few buttons. At the sight of the card’s contents her smirk curved into a deep, evil grin.
The detective’s disgust forced his hand. He hopped up onto the wall alongside her and ripped the camera out of her grasp, and she complained when the strapped dragged her neck along with it. With quick fingers he thumbed through the pictures, and his eyes widened. He couldn’t stop his mouth from opening, and before a gasp could escape the camera was flitted back to its owner.
“Don’t look for too long,” she warned, “I don’t want you asking questions.”
But he couldn’t help that. The images were burned into the back of his mind, and he was having trouble processing them, “…What was that?”
She hesitated before replying, “I think it’s be better for all parties involved if I didn’t explain that out loud. A man’s allowed to have his secrets—”
“No,” he shut his eyes, “I know what I saw. That’s not what I’m asking about.”
He turned and glared.
“What were you hiding??”
Nora was staring at the camera screen. She had stopped at a dark picture, similar to the thirty she had managed to capture in the quick burst her camera was out.
There wasn’t much to see. The only discernable things were silhouetted shaped in the center of an already dark room. Around a hallway corner, through a large frack between the door and its frame, a small moment was visible. A bed. Mr. Kim lying on top, face-up. And on top of him, Mitchell An. Shirtless. Erotic. But the way he towered over, his unnatural posture caved forward, his hands clutched around his boss’s neck; everything said a different story.
“Their foreplay was a little strange,” Nora finally managed, “That’s what I thought at first.”
[In the hallway of the penthouse, moment after Mitchell had disappeared behind Kim’s door, Nora sits close, on the side of the door that would hide her if it suddenly swings open. Her hands cover her eyes. She’d rather be anywhere but here, but she’s doing her job. She’s listening to what lies beyond the walls separating her from her target, and what she hears is enough for her face to flush red.
Minutes pass. She stretches her legs. She scrolls through her phone. She wonders if this is worth it. She waits.
Suddenly, a voice.
“I could end this here.”
Nora sits up. That’s new. She doesn’t know where the though comes from.
“I could end this right now if I wanted to.”
Is that… the secretary? She leans her ear against the wall and tries to focus. She drowns out the other noises and listens.
“If he stops breathing, she won’t have to send me here anymore.”
What??
Nora stands up and presses herself closer to the wall. Concentrate. Concentrate…
She can get a feel for the scenery. Mitchell is on top of his boss, towering over. His hands on his neck. Strangulation? The congressman doesn’t seem alarmed. This must be normal.
She shudders at the thought. No. Not normal. She isn’t one to judge another’s fetishes, but that isn’t what worries her. The secretary shouldn’t be thinking like that, right? Was that a typical response to what they were doing? Did this roleplay go so deep that the part he played reached him subconsciously?
“If I stop breathing too…”
No. This isn’t right.
Nora wants to stop this but isn’t sure if it’s her place to. Before she can think too hard her hands find themselves on the door handle. She knows she can’t get in. It’s locked.
Kim would be fine, right? The secretary wouldn’t go that far.
“Let’s stop this. I’m tired. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Nora waits. One second. Two. Three. She can’t hear anything.
She can’t hear anything.
Kim isn’t conscious. She can’t hear anything.
Her hands are on the nearest object she can find. One smash. Two. The fire extinguisher isn’t working. Think, Nora. She pounds on the door. No one is responding. No one is home.
What if—
She pulls the orange sticky note from her pocket and does her best to input the pin in the door with shaking hands. There is no way this will work. They couldn’t be stupid enough to—
A ding. A click.
She doesn’t have enough time to praise their stupidity. The door is thrown open, and she’s inside. This time, her camera is available. Hopefully she’s overreacting. Hopefully the silence means she can’t hear anymore. Maybe she’d gone deaf. She’d prefer that.
The hallway into the penthouse is long. She rushes it, turning the corner, and stops dead center. A large living room, an adjacent kitchen. An open balcony past that, beckoning the night sky.
To the right, a door slightly ajar. Two men on a bed. One breathing. One, not quite.
She takes pictures without thinking too much about it. If this is murder, she’d need proof. After thirty or so clicks sound off into the dark, in the span of about five seconds, she manages to gather the confidence in her gut and opens her mouth.
“Mitchell An,” she calls.
No response. He doesn’t hear her. He doesn’t answer.
“MITCHELL.”
Nothing.
She looks at the congressman. His eyes are closed. He isn’t conscious.
But a finger twitches.
She can’t bring herself to enter the room. The fear is too pungent. But after a quick glance, Nora catches sight of the slim red square on the wall, and in another second an alarm enveloped the building. Bright, flashing lights bounce off the walls.
The secretary is thrown out of his reverie. He notices the man underneath him and rips his hand away from his throat.
“William?”
Fear.
Mitchell pushes the politician’s shoulders.
“William, wake up.”
And with one final shove, he does. Kim gasps, air filling his lungs. The secretary shakes. He’s terrified. His life almost changed for the worst.
“What—” Kim doesn’t seem to understand his predicament. He sits up, rubbing his throat, and smacks Mitchell’s arm for pressing too hard. He notices the blinking lights and curses. Mitchell hugs himself. It seems he’s out of danger. Let’s forget about this. Let’s focus on the job. Right. He has a job to do.
But how—
Mitchell turns to the hallway. His eyes meet Nora’s.
One moment. Two. Three.
Recognition.
She runs.]