The incriminating voice recording of Yong-geun instructing Dong-jae to tamper with the crime scene is sufficient evidence, and Yong-geun is arrested. The problem is, since Na-na’s video is an illegal recording, it can’t be admitted as evidence to indict Sang-woo.
Ji-hyuk and Do-chang head to the TJ building to watch the CCTV videos that Tae-ho previously requested, and they discover that the man who took the photos of Tae-ho and Hee-joo’s adultery was Sang-woo’s secretary. Sang-woo had two reasons to silence Hee-joo forever — one, she had the CCTV video that captured his assault, and two, she knew he had an illegitimate child.
It’s more than enough of a motive, but Ji-hyuk still finds one thing odd. Why did Tae-ho die? If Tae-ho truly intended to turn himself in that night, he would have known that the truth about his infidelity would come out, and prepared himself for it. Na-na confronting him with the adultery photos shouldn’t have pushed him to suicide, as she claims.
Ji-hyuk points this out to Na-na, but she counters that Tae-ho’s confession would have sent Sang-woo to jail and allowed her to usurp his place — why would she want to stop that from happening? If anything, Tae-ho turning himself in would have benefitted her.
Sang-woo allows Min-ji a brief glimpse of her daughter Soo-yeon through a video call, just to prove that she’s still alive. In other words, he still has leverage over her. Arrogantly, Sang-woo instructs Min-ji to give false testimony that she lied out of her desperation to see Soo-yeon, as well as her hatred for Sang-woo.
However, Min-ji has a request of her own — she wants Sang-woo to formally acknowledge Soo-yeon as his daughter, and give her a proper place in the Cheon family. Only then will she abide by his wishes.
Prosecutor CHA MOON-HO (Go Chang-seok) is assigned to the case, and he’s immediately approached by TJ and offered a position at the company — on the condition that he “handles the case well.” In other words, go easy on the defendants and throw the case.
However, Prosecutor Cha knows Do-chang from the past; in fact, he witnessed Do-chang’s diligence and determination firsthand on the day Do-chang caught a culprit instead of attending his own wedding. Despite being tempted by TJ’s offer, the thought of taking it up weighs on his conscience. In the end, Prosecutor Cha’s morals win out, and he begins working in tandem with our detective pair.
Despite having evidence linking Sang-woo to Hee-joo’s murder, such as his phone call records with Dong-jae, the police can’t definitively prove that he was involved. Sang-woo was caught on CCTV near the park where the burner phone was discarded, but Prosecutor Cha says it’s just circumstantial evidence.
Sang-woo is summoned to the station, where he’s interrogated. Ji-hyuk confronts him with the exact words that he used before to order Dong-jae to kill Hee-joo. However, Sang-woo continues to feign ignorance, keeping that insufferable smug grin on his face.
It turns out Soo-yeon isn’t abroad in America after all — to Sang-woo’s ire, Na-na arranges a reunion between Min-ji and her daughter. Now that he no longer has that hold over Min-ji, Sang-woo’s starting to feel pressured, and he mobilizes the TJ legal team. They scour through endless documents to find anything that could be favorable to Sang-woo’s case, and they land upon Tae-ho as a convenient scapegoat.
At the trial, TJ’s defense attorney spins a tale that pins everything on Tae-ho instead of Sang-woo. He blames Hee-joo’s murder on Tae-ho wanting to hide his adultery, cover up his involvement in the assault case, and set Sang-woo up to take the fall. Since the dead can’t defend themselves, no one can sufficiently disprove these claims, and our detectives grow antsy.
With Sang-woo on the verge of getting away with his crimes, the need to use Na-na’s illegal video is stronger than ever. Ji-hyuk goes to convince her, but she staunchly refuses. Astutely, Ji-hyuk surmises that Na-na risks being branded a traitor to the Cheon family, which would have her ousted and shunned by TJ’s shareholders. To counter that, Ji-hyuk proposes a plan — all Na-na needs to do is open the doors for them.
That means letting the team in when they arrive at Tae-ho and Na-na’s residence to investigate, and they “discover” the hidden camera recording in Tae-ho’s office, allowing them to “deduce” that the video was taken by him. Not only does this remove Na-na from the equation entirely, but it also fits the exact narrative that TJ’s lawyer cooked up about Tae-ho having it out for Sang-woo. It’s checkmate, and when pressed to say who gave him the order to kill Hee-joo, Yong-geun names Sang-woo.
After the trial, a seething Sang-woo drives into TJ’s parking lot. He nearly gives into the impulse to run Na-na over, but he swerves at the last second. Na-na simply stares him down, absolutely unfazed, and he gets out of the car to yell at her and slap her across the face.
Except Na-na gives as good as she gets, and she slaps Sang-woo back without a moment’s hesitation. She coos patronizingly that he shouldn’t let himself spiral into an even more pitiful state, and Sang-woo moves to strangle her, but he’s interrupted by the arrival of Ji-hyuk.
Ji-hyuk gives Na-na a lift home, and he asserts that he’s not done with the case just yet. Things don’t quite add up, and Ji-hyuk still wants to understand Tae-ho’s thought process before his death. Amused, Na-na says that she feels the same, and that she looks forward to seeing him investigate further.
At long last, the verdict of the trial is finally handed down. Yong-geun is sentenced to a paltry five years in prison for his involvement in the disposal of Hee-joo’s corpse, and Sang-woo is sentenced to a term of 15 years for instigating murder.
It seems like all’s well that ends well, but in its usual fashion, the show throws a spanner into the works at the last moment. Hee-joo’s grandpa pays Na-na a visit to apologize on Hee-joo’s behalf, but right then, Na-na’s secretary enters the room and addresses her as “Director Cheon.”
Grandpa flashes back to the day of Hee-joo’s death — he recalls Hee-joo receiving a company call from someone she addressed the same way, and having to suddenly return to the office. After that, she never returned. It raises Grandpa’s suspicions, and he asks Na-na whether she’s “Director Cheon.”
Well, I guess that confirms what we’ve been speculating since a while ago — that Na-na had a hand in Hee-joo’s death. In a flashback, it’s revealed that Na-na and Yong-geun intercepted Hee-joo before she could burn Tae-ho’s laptop, and that likely contributed to Na-na’s reasons for wanting Hee-joo gone.
I should probably feel relieved and triumphant that our team has finally caught (some of) the bad guys, but I didn’t find myself feeling much of anything this week. Perhaps it can be boiled down to pacing issues — it feels like the drama has been spinning its wheels in place for a while now, going in circles that wind up being tedious rather than a thrilling game of cat and mouse.
It’s been pretty evident from the outset who the likely suspects are, but the drama chose to intentionally obfuscate us by hinting at larger conspiracies and personal motives. That’s fine if the script follows through, but the buildup took so long that the satisfaction of the payoff feels significantly diminished.
I think the drama does have potential in its disparate parts, but where it flounders is in its execution — I want to care for these characters, and I want to feel invested in their investigation, but there are only so many iterations of wild goose chases I can take before it starts to feel repetitive. The show has a snarky sense of humor that tickles my funny bone, but I can name more than a few scenes that felt unnecessary and disjointed from the overall plot.
I’m of the opinion that the drama would have benefitted from a tighter script (and perhaps fewer episodes), because right now it feels like the luxury of time has lulled it into a complacency that blurs its focus and stretches out character arcs too thin.
It’s really a shame that the drama killed Tae-ho off — I was expecting his death to shake things up and bring something new to the table, but instead all we got was maybe half an episode of chaos before everyone went right back to their usual scheming. Both Tae-ho and Na-na are interestingly complex villains, but they’re shortchanged by the show’s overemphasis on drawing out the mystery.
All too often, it feels like the characters are moving in service of the plot, rather than organically driving it. I suppose I’m of the same mind as Ji-hyuk; I want to know Tae-ho’s thought process, as well as Na-na’s and Sang-woo’s. Now that the red herrings are (hopefully) out of the way, here’s hoping that the drama delivers a compelling look into its characters in its final weeks.