"It's a perfect sniping spot." Clay also walked to the window and looked out, then looked thoughtfully into the bloody and terrifying room. "Something's not right, guys, there seems to be some inconsistency here."
Knowing that he was combining theory with practice again, Jack didn't answer directly, but looked at Aubrey, wanting to know his thoughts.
"Judging from the way the body was abandoned, the murderer is experienced and methodical. But look at this crime scene, it's a mess, blood everywhere, and there's no sign of cleanup."
Aubrey, a former academic master who had also taken psychology, had made no less progress in psychological profiling than Clay, and he immediately grasped the key point.
Jack added, "And the modus operandi. We all know he used a shopping cart to bring the victim up via the elevator.
While the security in this building is practically nonexistent, it's still a significant risk. Pretending to help a drunken companion get the drugged-out victim into the elevator would be a safer option, unless..." "
Unless his physical strength prevents him from doing so," Clay continued.
"Or perhaps he placed the shopping cart in the elevator beforehand. Regardless, he's connected to the owner of this office, which is why he has a private elevator and the key to this office."
Aubrey snapped his fingers triumphantly.
"That sounds like the truth," Ma Xidao muttered. These FBI babbling about psychological profiling were completely at odds with his straightforward approach.
Then, the elevator dinged in the hallway, the doors opened, and then the respectful greetings of two detectives at the door.
"Prosecutor Kim, you're here."
The overwhelming stench of corpses in the room didn't falter Prosecutor Kim Jun-ho's stern face. He glanced coldly around, finally settling on Ma Seok-do.
"Have you notified the technical department of the search team?"
Even Ma Seok-do had to bow slightly in respect before the prosecutor. "Yes, they'll be here soon."
Prosecutor Kim Jun-ho's cold gaze fell again on the three FBI agents in the room. After a brief hesitation, as if making some kind of resolution, he quickly walked over to Jack, bowed deeply, and offered his hand.
"I'm so sorry. I was rude last night. Please forgive me."
Jack, startled by his Japanese apology, quickly reached out to shake his hand, then glanced questioningly at Jubal and Jiejie, who had arrived with him at the door.
A few minutes later, after handing the scene over to the forensic investigators from the Metropolitan Police Department, the FBI and Ma Seok-do left the building together, finally having a chance to speak privately.
"What was wrong with that guy just now?" Jack was puzzled by the prosecutor's rude and then subservient attitude.
Jubal smiled. "On the way here, he also apologized to me solemnly like he did just now. As I said before, Kim Junhao may have some overly strong self-esteem, but he is a person who is willing to do things sincerely.
We found the owner's information, Li Jianyu, a Korean citizen. Didn't you see the look on Kim Junhao's face when he saw his name pop up in the system? He was almost shaking with excitement."
"Is there anything special about this Li Jianyu?" Aubrey asked curiously.
"Kim Junhao said he has a criminal record and was once requested for extradition by Dubai. Two years ago, he was accused of attacking a prostitute in Dubai with a utility knife, but he successfully fled back to South Korea before being formally arrested."
Jiejie said, pulling out a document from her bag and handing it to Jack, "This is some information about Li Jianyu that Alice and Hannah just investigated."
"No wonder this prosecutor is so excited. This Lee Gun-woo is the only son of a chaebol," Jack suddenly realized.
"'Chaebol' only son? What does that mean?" Clay was puzzled.
The word "Chaebol" was coined specifically for the Korean chaebol, itself a direct transliteration of the Korean word meaning "clan with immense wealth."
Lee Gun-woo's father was once a renowned plastic surgeon who later founded a major pharmaceutical company. He now has a fortune in the hundreds of millions of dollars. While not as high as top chaebols like Samsung, SK, and LG, he's still a prominent figure in South Korea.
Prosecutor Kim Jun-ho's excitement is understandable. If the only son of a small chaebol were to fall into his hands with conclusive evidence, it would be a godsend for advancement.
Becoming a prosecutor in South Korea is incredibly challenging and expensive.
Even if a family has a genius with an exceptional IQ who aces all the exams, the minimum investment is equivalent to 20% of the total income of a middle-class Korean family for thirty years.
Given South Korea's high housing costs, this represents nearly the entire savings of this middle-class family, even after scrimping and saving. Even so, with an acceptance rate of less than 3%, the judicial examination, once open to all, still attracted a large number of children from poor families. However, after 2007, South Korea "reformed" the judicial examination, closing it to all applicants and requiring law school and accumulated credits before applying. This was seen as completely severing the path to advancement for the working class.
However, becoming a junior prosecutor is only the beginning; the arduous process of gaining experience continues. To advance from a junior prosecutor to a senior prosecutor, a minimum of ten years of supervisory experience is required.
The higher the position, the longer the required experience, and this is merely the minimum requirement; reputation, merit, and the backing of chaebols are also essential.
In South Korea, the relationship between prosecutors and chaebols can be described as a love-hate relationship, with the former often viewed as the ideal marriage partner by the latter. Many prominent prosecutors are sons-in-law of major chaebol families.
Small chaebols, especially the domineering second generation like Lee Gun-woo, are also the most tempting target for prosecutors.
Taking on a giant chaebol like Samsung is not something a small prosecutor can achieve. However, for an ordinary prosecutor like Kim Jun-ho, bringing down a small chaebol or sending his only son to prison means both merit and fame, and a direct path from the local Prosecutors' Office to the High Prosecutors' Office.
"So, because the suspect went from being a foreigner to being Korean, we in the FBI went from being troublemakers to helping him get promoted?"
After Jack's explanation, Clay finally understood, and the others also understood the reason for Kim Jun-ho's sudden change of heart.
If the suspect in this case were American, a conviction would be extremely difficult for well-known reasons, and Kim Jun-ho, the case's lead prosecutor, would almost certainly bear the brunt of the blame.
Given the media attention this case has already received, the future fate of this prosecutor is foreseeable; a lifetime at the grassroots level might be the best outcome.
Now the suspect is Korean, the son of a chaebol. Considering the FBI is helping solve the case, and the three victims hail from three European and American countries, a conviction is practically a foregone conclusion once the evidence is solid.
"It makes me feel strangely uncomfortable," Aubrey said with a disdainful curl of his lips.
"Or maybe he's truly an honest prosecutor? He simply wants to bring the guilty to justice," Jack said with a smile. After all, these were just his private speculations. Sometimes, one can only judge a person's actions, not their hearts, and no one's heart is perfect.
(End of this chapter)