Recap Korean Drama "The Good Detective Season 2" Episode 7-8

The Incheon detectives follow up on their investigation, and it turns out that the CCTV video wasn’t planted, it was just left open on Min-ji’s laptop. Huh? Wait, so you’re saying the hired gangster was interrupted while tampering with Min-ji’s laptop, only to leave a video that would incriminate his employer open without a second thought?

In any case, Tae-ho is called in to testify. Ji-hyuk and Do-chang don’t manage to pry any useful information from him, but they manage to rattle him with the photos of him and Hee-joo. One of the photos clearly shows Tae-ho and Hee-joo embracing in his car, and we see what happened when the photo was taken.

Hee-joo goes to the carpark to pass Tae-ho his phone, which he absentmindedly left behind in the office. Noticing how despondent and out-of-sorts he looks, Hee-joo gets into his car, not wanting to leave him alone.

Tae-ho calls himself pathetic, noting that he has nothing to his name. “Everything is fake — no, nothing is real,” he says. He tells Hee-joo to go, but she pulls him into a comforting hug instead, and he cries into her shoulder.

It’s clear that Hee-joo had been a great source of comfort for Tae-ho. She’d never probed about his concerns; instead, she simply tried to cheer him up with her company.

Tae-ho instructs Bo-kyung to convey Hee-joo’s severance pay and token of condolence on behalf of the company. However, Hee-joo’s grandfather refuses to accept the money, demanding to see Tae-ho instead. Tae-ho goes to his shop, and Hee-joo’s grandfather confronts him about the photos, despondently asking if he truly cared for Hee-joo.

Tae-ho does his best to hold himself together, brushing Bo-kyung off by telling her he has an urgent appointment. The moment he turns into an alleyway, though, he finally breaks down. Bo-kyung finds him in this state; though she wisely doesn’t approach him, she’s clearly concerned (and perhaps even worried).

The next day, Bo-kyung enters Tae-ho’s office to update him about Hee-joo’s pay. She confesses that she saw him crying in the alleyway, and asks if he had feelings for Hee-joo. Bo-kyung explains that she just wanted to confirm it so she can properly understand the situation, and then she excuses herself.

Having wiretapped Tae-ho’s office, Na-na hears all this, and it confirms her suspicions about Tae-ho’s infidelity. She immediately calls for a press conference, where she publicly announces that she plans to divorce Tae-ho. Oof. Tae-ho finds out about this through the media, and it catches him completely off guard.

In order to catch runaway gangster Dong-jae, the Incheon team hatches a plan involving Dong-jae’s boss. It goes well, until it doesn’t; Man-gu gets stabbed, and Ji-woong gets hit in the head. Thankfully both their surgeries go well, which leads to a hilariously endearing reunion scene where the two hug and cry, aww.

Dong-jae ends up getting apprehended by Ki-jin, but he’s infuriatingly smug and refuses to talk. That’s because he knows he’s protected by TJ group in exchange for the dirt he has on them, and before long a TJ lawyer shows up to take on his case.

Yong-geun tries to dissuade Ki-jin from pursuing Dong-jae, sweetening the deal with a free apartment courtesy of TJ Group. Ki-jin reluctantly accedes, though not without the caveat that he’ll have no choice but to keep investigating if Dong-jae’s crimes turn out to be too severe.

For a moment it seems like Ki-jin might bow to the temptation of money, but then Do-chang informs him about Man-gu and Ji-woong’s injuries. Incensed by how Dong-jae is belittling the police, Ki-jin snaps during an interrogation and hits Dong-jae repeatedly, daring him to do the same back to him.

This gets Ki-jin chewed out by his police chief, but he argues that he was standing up for his fellow officers. If they simply allow a criminal like Dong-jae to walk free, how can any police officer continue to trust in the system and risk their life on the field?

Ki-jin makes a valid point, yet his violence is still uncomfortable to watch, and I think that’s the point the show is trying to make. Violence isn’t acceptable and shouldn’t be condoned, but neither is corruption within the criminal justice system. Ki-jin’s slaps felt like a helpless and ineffective way of railing against the system, which treats its officers like disposable cogs in a machine.

The Incheon team discovers official crime scene photos of the white dress serial murders in Dong-jae’s computer, which means there’s a mole in the police force. The team forwards the evidence to the prosecution in order to press more charges against Dong-jae, as well as build their case against Sang-woo and Tae-ho as potential suspects in Hee-joo’s murder.

Of course, the corruption in the system means that Tae-ho receives a copy of the additional evidence from the prosecution. Flipping through the pages, Tae-ho notes the anonymous sender ID of the person who sent the photos. It ends with 1329, which coincides with Yong-geun’s office extension number.

Taking the chance while Yong-geun is called away from his desk, Tae-ho checks his computer. He runs into Yong-geun as he leaves, and when Yong-geun returns to his desk, he notices that his computer mouse is out of place. Yong-geun checks the folder containing the crime scene photos, and sure enough, it was accessed just minutes ago.

Okay, I’m going to have to pause for a moment here — why on earth would you keep incriminating files in a folder that isn’t encrypted or password protected? On your work computer, for that matter?? I get that Yong-geun probably feels invincible because he has Sang-woo’s backing, but you’d think that he’d be more prudent, considering the magnitude of their secret.

Na-na follows up on her deal with Ji-hyuk, asking if he’s narrowed down any suspects yet. He demurs, which instantly alerts her that she’s being played, since she heard from Tae-ho that the investigation is pushing him and Sang-woo as the main suspects.

As such, Na-na arranges a prison visitation with inmate OH JONG-TAE (Oh Jung-se), Ji-hyuk’s cousin. Ji-hyuk was the one who uncovered Jong-tae’s crimes and put him behind bars, which means that Jong-tae nurses a deep-seated grudge.

Of course, Na-na’s here to exploit that, and she asks for information on Ji-hyuk in exchange for making his life a living hell. Jong-tae initially demands for Ji-hyuk’s death, but he soon relents and offers up Ji-hyuk’s weakness — he feels guilty over his mother’s death.

 

Na-na calls Ji-hyuk to her hotel room again, where she pretends to pour her heart out on the pretext of being drunk. She claims that the two of them are very similar, drawling that she sees a sadness in his eyes — one that she knows all too well, since her mother died because of her.

While there may be some truth to her words, Na-na is deliberately playing up her grief to earn sympathy from Ji-hyuk, in line with Jong-tae’s advice. Unfortunately, Jong-tae indeed knows his cousin all too well, and Ji-hyuk is deeply affected by Na-na’s words.

Bo-kyung hands in her resignation letter to Tae-ho; she knows that she keeps getting roped into the Hee-joo case because of her father’s position of power. Since it isn’t directly related to work, she doesn’t wish to get caught up in it any longer. However, Tae-ho entreats her to stay, telling her that she’s needed on the team. He calls her as trustworthy as Hee-joo was, and I dearly hope that’s not supposed to be foreshadowing.

Tae-ho meets with Min-ji, and he lets on that he knows Hee-joo tried to help her by showing her the CCTV video. He promises to return her child to her, as long as they can get Sang-woo convicted for his crimes. In order to do that, he asks Min-ji to tell him the secrets that only she, Hee-joo, and Sang-woo know.

As Tae-ho leaves the building, he takes out his phone, and we see that he’s secretly recorded their conversation. (27 seconds, though? That’s surprisingly short.)

Tae-ho visits Dong-jae in prison, where the gangster continues to deny that he killed Hee-joo. Refusing to relent, Tae-ho continues pressing Dong-jae, pointing out that he can pull strings to get Dong-jae’s sentence reduced to a mere probation. That is, if Dong-jae can prove his own innocence.

The temptation works, and when Tae-ho asks for Dong-jae’s alibi on the night of Hee-joo’s murder, Dong-jae seemingly comes clean (though we don’t get to hear it).

 

Later that day, Tae-ho obtains Na-na’s car keys from her secretary, making an excuse that he needs to borrow her car. Checking the car’s GPS, Tae-ho notices that one address in particular stands out.

Tae-ho drives there, and it turns out to be the old estate of Na-na’s mother. He calls Na-na, insisting that she has to come meet him there immediately. She does, and when she arrives, Tae-ho asks her why she was there on the night of Hee-joo’s murder. Oh??

We don’t hear the rest of their conversation; in the next scene, they’re outside the house. Tae-ho calls Ji-hyuk to inform him that he’ll be going to the police station to give them information about Hee-joo’s death, and then he drives off with Na-na in the passenger seat.

However, Na-na isn’t fully onboard with his plan, saying that it’s too rushed. Abruptly, she apologizes, admitting that she can’t believe him. Then she reaches over to unbuckle his seatbelt, grabs the steering wheel, and veers them right into the path of an oncoming truck.

Ohmygod. It’s a harrowing scene, made even more devastating by the way Tae-ho just gazes placidly at Na-na, as if silently accepting her decision. He doesn’t attempt to fight back or regain control of the steering wheel, and when the two vehicles collide, the impact sends him careening headfirst into the windshield.

In the aftermath of the crash, Na-na stumbles out of the vehicle. The airbag saved her life, but Tae-ho’s not so lucky, since his airbag didn’t deploy. Slumped over the steering wheel, Tae-ho’s bloody and unconscious — while Na-na gasps and trembles by the side of the road, seemingly in shock and terrified by her own actions.

Well, that’s an ending I didn’t see coming. Tae-ho’s actions this week did set off some death flags, but I figured it might be a convenient Truck of Doom, not a deliberate act by Na-na.

In my defense, some events feel too contrived for the sake of the plot, so I thought that Tae-ho’s death might follow in their footsteps. I mean, the conveniently open CCTV video and conveniently accessible crime scene files? Bo-kyung confirming her suspicions about Tae-ho and Hee-joo directly to her boss’s face, just so Na-na could overhear? Na-na’s secretary handing over her car keys to Tae-ho without a second thought?

Honestly, the incompetence of the villains makes the eureka moments and the subsequent takedowns by our protagonists feel much less satisfying then they ought to be, and I think that’s quite a shame.

Still, the drama does a good job of making its characters compelling. I think it balances its moments of levity with its darker themes well, which gives our characters and their relationships a lot of dimension. I’m especially intrigued by Na-na, who reveals more layers to herself with every scene she’s in.

For example, Na-na claims that her divorce announcement was simply to deflect suspicion away from herself. It’s so that she won’t be accused of sending her father to prison and convicting her brother of murder, in order to take over TJ group. By pulling strings with McQueen to get Tae-ho appointed as the next CEO, then cutting ties with him, Na-na can blame it all on him and then take his place.

It’s a cold and calculating plan, but I think Na-na feels more emotion than she’d like to admit. Her decision to divorce Tae-ho may have been a scheme to save her own hide, but it also felt like an emotional response to the confirmation that Tae-ho loved Hee-joo.

Na-na struggles a lot with loneliness, and we’ve seen how time and time again, her closest ones have forsaken her. Her father belittles her, her mother left her behind, and her brother resents her to the core. I don’t know if she ever truly loved Tae-ho, but she depended on him as the one person who stayed by her side, and it must have felt devastating when she realized that even he chose someone else over her.

On a happier note, I’m liking how the show portrays the nuances of found family. When Do-chang finds out about Eun-hye not taking the high school equivalency test like she’d promised to, he’s upset, but he doesn’t press her for the reason, and she doesn’t volunteer it.

Eun-hye confides in Hee-joo’s grandpa the next day, admitting that she wishes she could just disappear. She clearly thinks lowly of herself, but Gramps tells her to come visit him anytime she needs a listening ear, because her presence makes him happy. Aww.

It’s not that Eun-hye doesn’t like Do-chang; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. However, the guilt between them inevitably drives a wedge into their relationship. Do-chang still feels responsible for not being able to stop the wrongful conviction of Eun-hye’s father in time, and Eun-hye can’t help but feel like a burden to Do-chang.

It’s why Eun-hye feels more comfortable confiding in Ji-hyuk or Gramps, but this ends up making Do-chang feel like she’s avoiding him and shutting him out of her life. The two care deeply for each other, to the point that they walk on eggshells around each other in an effort to be considerate. It’s heartbreakingly realistic, and I hope they get to have a sincere, candid heart-to-heart eventually.

I’ll admit I’m still not entirely sold on the show’s central mystery, but I’m certainly liking the nuance with which the show handles its character relationships. While I’m sad to see Tae-ho go so soon, I’m definitely looking forward to a deeper exploration into Na-na and Sang-woo’s psyches.