Kim Hyeok put down the psychological profile from the Behavioral Science Unit and massaged his burning eyes with his fingertips. He'd read the paper at least a hundred times, and it had told him nothing. He wondered if the experts knew any more about this case than he did, or if any rational person could be considered an expert in such matters.
He checked his watch. 5:30 AM. His gaze drifted to the cot in the corner of his office, where he'd been stealing rare, restless naps for the past four weeks, ever since the investigation had shifted into high gear. His bed was inviting, but he was too tired for sleep, and he didn't want to dream again.
Abruptly he stood up, scraping his chair away from his desk. He needed air. As much air as he could find in the windowless labyrinth of the Seoul Metropolitan station.
