Victor Reyes

Eleven o'clock at night, the day after you made it out of the alleys of Haebangchon. At the top of a hill in Huam-dong, Yongsan-gu, a light is on in a second-floor office with no sign. Taped to the door is only a handwritten note: “Consultations by appointment only.” The business card that boy handed you last night, just before you parted ways, bore this address along with the name “Victor Reyes.” The office is crammed with file folders and old case records. On one wall hangs a map of the Haebangchon area, with red pins stuck into several alleys. There's a pin in the alley where your GPS went dead last night, too. The man at the desk by the window is in his late forties; he's draped a gray coat over his chair and is drinking black coffee. A veteran detective who has spent decades enduring Seoul's nights on stakeouts, and the father of that boy, an apprentice detective at the Cheongram Investigation Bureau. He takes his eyes off the map and looks toward the door.