"Why do Koreans get mad so quickly." Richie laughed. "A good question."
"Not coming from an Irishman, it's not," I said softly.
"There's that low voice of yours again, Inspector. Come on, we're alone, you can roar at me if you want. Lei off a little steam."
"I'll tell you a story, Richie. Take it for what it's worth. One day I was driving down a road in the countryside, and on the slope of a hill, sitting on a rock, was an old woman. In front of her was a small girl. The girl stood with her head bowed, sobbing. Finally, she turned and walked into an empty field, as if she wanted to disappear into the earth itself Why, Richie?"
"Why what?"
"Why would anyone want to make a child so unhappy? Why would anyone who had already lived their life want to grind a child into the dirt?
What possible reason, do you think?"
The Irishman hunched forward, his hands on his knees. "That happens sometimes."
"No, not like this. This wasn't a scolding. This wasn't a lesson. This was destruction, an A-bomb on a dollhouse. That child had nowhere to go, no sun left to shine, no birds to sing, desolation and sorrow in front of her as far as her eyes could see. She had collapsed, you could see it. I cannot imagine she could ever be made whole. Richie, listen to me. That girl had nothing left to hold her together, no tomorrow, no hope. She wasn't really crying. Tears are for the living. She walked into that field like she was already dead."
"Inspector." The color had drained from his face. "Children are like that. They collapse, then they bounce back."
"You didn't answer my question, Richie. Why would the old woman want to destroy that girl?"
"How can I know? I wasn't there."
"You see? You can't believe it would be done for no reason. And you know what is worse? You can't possibly understand. So don't talk to me about anger."