Chapter 11 — Calls are not allowed to be hung up

The office door was still half open like before, the desk lamp still cast a familiar yellow light into the hallway. Long was reviewing a report on the computer when the two walked in. He didn't look up immediately but typed the last few lines before taking off his glasses and gently rubbing the bridge of his nose.

— I guess you guys came back because of the Lam Dien file.

- Yes. — Dan spread a paper map on his desk, along with a summary of four phone calls. — We just got more evidence by comparing the sounds, determining the location with almost certainty.

Long looked over the map, the red circles circling the parish, the railroad, and the Lam Dien apartment building in the middle, then looked at the summary listing the details of the four calls in chronological order. He read slowly and did not rush to comment, a habit that made many subordinates impatient but also meant he rarely made wrong decisions.

— I admit this was excellent investigative work. — He said, his voice unable to hide his admiration. — But Dan, you also have to admit to me, all you have is still indirect inference. Church bells, train whistles, dogs barking, none of these are direct evidence of a specific address, a specific apartment.

— I understand that, brother. But if you put them together, the probability of being wrong is almost zero.

— A near-zero probability of being wrong is not "definitely right". And with local police, they need a much higher level of certainty to be able to obtain a search warrant for a specific apartment in a building inhabited by twenty households.

Anh Tuyet took a step forward, her voice was calm but firm.

— Mr. Long, the priority tracking records are allowed to be kept until the end of the shift. It's just after 1:30 a.m., with more than five hours left until the end of the shift. I think I don't need to close the file right now.

— I'm not saying close the file right now, Ms. Tuyet. I'm saying I can't approve any more actions than what Dan did, which was asking a police officer he knew to patrol unofficially. I cannot allow additional resources to be mobilized, cannot ask the area police to knock on every apartment door to verify, cannot do anything more based on the current level of evidence.

— Mr. Long, I don't ask you to believe absolutely in my reasoning. I just ask for your permission to raise the level of intervention to one level, for example, officially contact the ward's child protection team tonight instead of leaving it until the morning, so that they can visit in the name of a routine check, without a search warrant.

Long thought for a moment, lightly tapping his fingers on the table.

— The child protection team is not on duty at night, Dan. They only work during business hours, unless there is a confirmed emergency alarm from the police or medical staff. But to get that confirmation, I returned to the same vicious circle as before.

— So you want us to sit quietly and wait for the fifth call? — Dan asked, her voice for the first time that night a bit harsh beyond her usual restraint.

Long was silent for a moment, his eyes moved from Dan to the map, then back to Dan. There was something in his expression that showed that the question was not easy for him to answer. He turned the pen around in his hand, placing it on the table with a soft click, as a way to force himself to slow down before answering.

— I understand how you feel right now. But I have a responsibility to the whole system, not just to one case, no matter how much that case breaks my heart. If I authorize action based on this level of evidence, and it's right this time, someone else will do the same thing next time with an even flimsier level of evidence, and it won't be right every time.

— This is not "next time", Mr. Long. This is now, with a particular child, in a particular place.

- I know. And it's because I know that I have a headache like this at 1:30 in the morning instead of going home to sleep.

That statement calmed the atmosphere in the room a bit, though the tension remained intact beneath the surface. Long stood up, went to the small window of the office, looked out at the dark yard outside, where the yellow streetlights reflected a few motorbikes parked silently.

— Three years ago, after the warehouse incident, I had to sit before the disciplinary committee to explain every minute of that night. They asked me what I relied on to dispatch two ambulances, I answered based on a call that sounded trustworthy. They continued to ask, what was the standard for "sounds trustworthy" and was there any written regulation? I do not have an answer, because it's true that there was no written regulation, it's all just the judgment of someone who had been in the profession long enough to believe in his own judgment. From that night, I set myself a principle: every decision that went beyond the process must be explainable by what was written on paper, not just by feeling.

— I understand your principle. — Dan said, his voice softened. — But I also hope you understand, sometimes what is written on paper cannot keep up with the speed of what is happening in real life.

— I understand, Dan. That's why I don't forbid you to do anything, I just can't officially guarantee it in the center's name.

— I will allow two things. One, Mr. Vinh continues to keep an eye on that area within the scope of his normal patrol work, I have no right and do not want to interfere with that. Two, if the next call comes, you handle it with all the necessary priority, and I won't cause any more difficulties. But I cannot officially ask the police to send forces based on what we have now. That's the limit I have to keep.

— What if there's still nothing by morning? — Anh Tuyet asked.

— Then the file will be recorded as unverified, the information will be transferred to the ward's child protection team for them to follow up on their own channel, and the center will close its responsibility according to the correct process.

— Meaning that all of tonight's efforts will be considered unrecognized. — Dan said, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.

— Not without recognition, Dan. It is still on file, still a basis for anyone who receives it later to refer to it. It's just not enough to be an immediate basis for action, those are two different things.

— But that child doesn't have time to wait "later," Mr. Long.

Long did not immediately answer that question. He stood still by the window for a few more seconds, then turned back to look straight at Dan. His eyes no longer had the sternness of a manager, but carried the deep fatigue of someone who was too used to having to weigh options, none of which was perfect.

— I know, Dan. And that is the reason why our job is more difficult than any other desk job. We don't have the right to choose between right and wrong, only between different types of risk, and have to live with the consequences of that choice, whatever it is.

Dan tightened her hand that was placed on the edge of the table, the familiar feeling of helplessness crept back, the feeling she swore to herself that she would never let it win again. But she also understood that, standing in Long's position, with the responsibility he was carrying on his shoulders, this was probably the furthest limit he could go back to.

— Thank you for listening.

— I don't need your thanks, Dan. I just hope tonight, no matter what the outcome is, you don't let it become a second wound.

Dan didn't answer right away, just nodded, collected the map and documents, folded them neatly as if that careful action could help her organize the confused thoughts in her head, then walked out of the office with Anh Tuyet. Outside in the hallway, the two stood silently for a while, no one said anything, until Anh Tuyet spoke first, her voice small but decisive.

— He has given me the greatest possible space within my authority.

— I know. But I'm afraid that space isn't enough, and I don't know how much time I have left before it really isn't enough anymore.

Anh Tuyet didn't respond right away, just put her hand on Dan's shoulder again, then the two quietly walked towards the desk, carrying the paper map that was starting to wrinkle at the corners because it had been folded and opened too many times in one night.