The first door Jin opens passing Benzer's living room is the kitchen. One might expect dishes to be piled up, considering Benzer's busy schedule, but the sink is empty and glitters slightly with the light filtering in through the roller shades.

Jin closes the door as it was and proceeds toward the stairs. For some reason, he's assuming the first floor isn't the place the file could be in. Typical. People neither keep documents in the dining hall nor use them to decorate the living room. So the second floor gets priority.

Upstairs, there's a narrow, dark hallway with two rooms on the left and one on the right. Jin turns the doorknob of the closest room and steps inside.

It's a bedroom. Not big, not too much stuff either. At the center sits a bed made with tidy bed sheets and pillows in place, a nightstand with a lit table lamp on it, casting a soft light, and a closet across the bed.

The room looks pretty neat and gives a well-kept vibe, implying Benzer somehow finds some way to create order and peace amidst his chaotic life.

Jin approaches the nightstand. It's made of wood and has two drawers with classic bin pulls. He drags the upper drawer open but to his disappointment, there's only a wireless charging pad and a flashlight. It'd make more sense if he had discovered a gun instead but oh well. He pushes the drawer close and opens the second one.

A book on criminal psychology and an album containing Benzer's family photos.

Jin thumps the drawer close with a frown and winces realizing the noise just now was a little too loud for a sneaky search.

Exhaling quietly, he moves to the closet, which isn't locked either. But it also cannot offer him anything satisfying as it only contains uniforms and everyday clothing. Jin sighs and pushes the door close, which makes a squeaking sound on its hinges as though scoffing on Benzer's behalf.

The white curtain at the window stares ghostly as Jin walks out. He's becoming more and more worried with every passing second and beginning to think if he'd find something that would be worth the risk.

Breathing in to calm his nerves, he opens the door at the opposite side with the thoughts of the worst things happening still surfing around his brain.

A night light illuminates the room with its lime green light and from the appearance, Jin affirms it's Benzer's study.

In one corner there's a table and a chair, while opposite the door stands a bookshelf adorned with trophies and books. There's one more thing contributing to the decoration, which Jin recognizes even with the night light.

Jin feels numbness taking over his brain as he staggers toward the shelf and picks the thing up. It's a photo, a selfie of Benzer and John from their first patrol. They are in their police uniform and inside a police car. John is in the driver seat, holding the wheel, while Benzer's on the shotgun with his right arm around John's shoulder and left arm stretched out to the air, holding up the phone. Benzer's smiling from ear to ear and his teeth seem beaming light. John is smiling too. Except, he isn't showing off his teeth.

"Dad..." Jin's voice trembles and his hands shake as he stares at the photo with teary eyes. He's seen this many times inside John's wallet, and now that he's seeing it again, memories begin to lap around his mind.

John used to tell Jin all the stories from his patrols. He wasn't a skilled storyteller, so his experience was his only tool to counter Callista's fairytales. Whenever Jin refused to sleep before weekends, John and Callista would compete to see whose story could put him to sleep.

Jin blinks away the tears that were threatening to glide out and puts the photo back on the shelf. He then begins to riffle through the pages of the books one by one, unmindful. John's file shouldn't be hidden among the pages yet he can't help it. Once the string of the memories is pulled, it's next to impossible to push them aside.

When done with the bookshelf, he walks to the table. It's a one-drawer traditional four-legged writing desk with a flat surface. Nothing on top of it, so Jin tries the drawer and his brow twitches to find it locked.

Hate locks!

Compared to the backdoor, picking a simple drawer lock is at his fingertips. He brings out a pair of hair clips, straightens one, and pushes it into the keyhole. Adding a little pressure, he slips in the other clip and moves it hastily until the cylinder turns.

The drawer opens with a low squeak and Jin's breath gets caught in his throat seeing about a dozen of files inside. He feels his ears buzzing when he brings those out to check them each. All are cold case files. Like the sergeant said, Benzer sure seems obsessed with cold cases.

Jin's sweating bucket. He wipes sweat out of his forehead, breaths in, and continues flipping through the files with a pleasant light of hope glimmering in his mind. But that light soon fades as every file he picks turns out not to be the one he's looking for.

"Where? Where? Where?!" he mutters through gritted teeth. He's getting impatient and starting to lose hope when the docket number of the 15th, the last file makes him hold his breath, showing it's from the same year John was killed. He swallows and has a hard time turning the cover. But luck isn't on his side. The file is on some Dr. Regan's going missing, not John's.

"Arghhhh!"

Jin tosses the file on the table and throws his cap on the floor in despair. He would've felt better if he could flip the table or... maybe the whole house upside down.

Jin runs a hand through his hair, abruptly rubs his face, and then punches the wall with a force close enough to crack his bones. He's feeling helpless; frustration and anger killing him. All his memories with John flash before his eyes. It feels like just yesterday he was sitting on his lap, bugging him to tell a story, nettling him to play, celebrating his victory over the stubborn pen cap, and telling him what he did all day.

The night light flickers, bringing him back to reality. He sighs, picks up the cap, and sets it on his head. If the file isn't here, then chances are slim that Benzer ever brought it and now Jin's questioning his decision to come here just to invite trouble.

He keeps the files back inside the drawer in order and locks it using the trusty hair clips. Then looking at the picture on the shelf one more time, he strides out.

"Great!" Jin growls as he turns the third room door knob and finds it locked. Regardless of the logistics of his decision, he doesn't want to leave a stone unturned, or 'leave a room unsearched' in this context.

But, before he can bring out his lock pickers, something greater happens.

Jin hears someone shutting the front door and clicking the light on. His heartbeat doubles as he peers through the stair rail.

Lo and behold! Commissioner Benzer's standing in the living room with all the skepticism painted on his face, looking right and left like he's trying to sniff out where Jin's hiding.

Bummer! Wh- why's he here now?! Did the alarm go off?! Jin steps back, feeling like a mouse caught in a cat's paw. He totally understands how a thief would feel when the master of the house is back before he could check out.

Benzer's footsteps suggest he's approaching the stairs. Jin presses his back against the wall, as though trying to remain hidden the longest time possible.

In such a befuddled state, his brain catches up to what his eyes saw: Benzer's on civil dress. Which might mean, it's his day off today.

Jin swallows. His heart forgets to beat at all and for a moment, he feels his ears ringing in a melodious rhythm, which soon reveals to be Benzer's doorbell instead.

Benzer stops, then steps away to answer the visitor, while Jin ransacks his brain to assemble his plans for cut and run.

The window!

He remembers the white curtain from the bedroom. As much as he can recall, that should be the double-hung window he noticed from outside. If he can make it through, he'll be landing straight in Benzer's backyard.

Despite his brain yelling the contradictory outcome too, Jin nods in this decision and glides toward the bedroom door. He has to give those movie stunts a try.

"Commissioner Benzer!"

Jin's hand freezes on the knob hearing a familiar voice.

Red?! He spins his head with eyes exploding but doesn't dare to creep back and take a look. He stares at the wall that blocks his vision until his conscience reminds him of his position: stuck in a police commissioner's house after breaking in — not so inviting.

Red stands firm at the door as he attempts to adopt a serious look.

"What do you want?" Benzer asks, inclining his head and letting an eyebrow fly up.

"You don't know?"

Now Benzer's eyeballs fly up.

"PI license. That's what I want."

Benzer exhales aloud. "We talked about it earlier, in case you forgot?"

"Oh yeah?" Red snaps. "You said you're working on Uncle John's case. But how come I don't see any progress?" He thumps on the door to demonstrate aggression and at the same time, a loud 'thud' travels through the air from the backyard.

Benzer turns sideways and narrows his eyes.

"Answer me!" Red yells to draw his attention back and succeeds. Benzer turns to face him again.

"If your people are that 'out of the world' kind of talented, why couldn't they manage to capture the murderer even after thirteen years?" Red continues. When Jin left this morning, he ignored it at first but as his memory of peripheral vision worked, he jumped up realizing Jin had his backpack on and he wasn't going to the cemetery.

He knows Jin's brain goes limp when he's angry and when he did a quick search on what Jin took along, the only thing he could think of was him hacking into Benzer's home security!

Red tried to call Jin several times but couldn't reach him. So he got here as fast as he could, but he was still late. Jin was already slipping in through the backdoor.

When he was burning in indecision thinking whether he should get in too or his getting in would create extra trouble, he saw Benzer's gray sedan approaching.

His jaw dropped and his voice escaped. Everything was so sudden that he stood at the back of the house like a stone statue until Benzer got in. Unable to think of any promising ways of distraction, he sprinted to the front door to buy some time by yapping on.

.........

Jin has a hard time limping all the way home. Climbing upstairs is worse.

Admonishing himself to reconsider jumping out of a first-floor window next time, he flicks on the light in his room. The blazing sun outside had him blinded and now, as the light hits his retina, his brain can finally make out Red sitting on his swivel chair, arms crossed.

"Well?" Red asks with a smirk, "What have you got?"

"A twisted ankle," Jin answers.

And they both laugh.