Chapter 9 — Fire Behind the Line

Thien Ly arranged to meet Trong Khiem on a weekend evening, not at the office, but at the small house in the alley behind Dong Kieu market, where she lived with her mother and younger brother. This was the first time she had invited a colleague home since starting her career, and she had been tossing and turning all night before wondering whether this decision was the right one or not.

"Mom, this is Mr. Khiem, the investigator in charge of the recent series of fires." She introduced herself when Trong Khiem walked in, carrying a small box of cakes as a gift.

Mrs. Van Khanh looked at him for a moment, her questioning eyes mixed with the reserve of a mother who is always wary of anyone entering her daughter's life, especially when that person is related to the dangerous job she is pursuing. "Please come in. Ly told me you were coming."

After a simple dinner, when Viet Cuong retired to his room to study, Mrs. Van Khanh also cleverly withdrew to give the two of them space to exchange work. Thien Ly brought out an old paper box containing her father's belongings - a black leather-wrapped workbook, a few old photos, and a thin file she had photocopied from the official investigation conclusion eight years ago.

"This is all I have." She placed each thing on the table, her hands shaking slightly. "This notebook belongs to my father, recording daily work. The last pages mention the question about the Vinh Thinh warehouse, just a few days before his death."

Trong Khiem carefully turned each page, read carefully, occasionally stopping to take notes in his own electronic notebook. He read very slowly, very meticulously, as if he were treating each line with the highest respect for a deceased person he had never met.

"Your father wrote it down in great detail." He said after a long moment of silence. "He mentioned 'inventory does not match the books', and 'newly signed insurance contract'. Do you know specifically what that insurance contract is?"

"I don't know the details, but I always suspected that was the key to the whole thing." Thien Ly replied. "If the warehouse was insured for a higher value than it actually was just before the fire, that is a classic sign of insurance fraud."

Trong Khiem nodded and continued reading the official investigation conclusion. The more he read, the more serious his face became. "This conclusion has many procedural irregularities. Normally, a fire that causes the death of a commanding officer must be investigated much more thoroughly, with the participation of many independent units. But here, there is only a single report, signed and completed in less than a month, with no criticism from any independent assessment unit."

"That's exactly what I've always wondered." Thien Ly said, her voice shaking with emotion when someone finally admitted the doubts she had harbored for eight years. "Everything happened so fast, so neatly, as if someone wanted to close the file as soon as possible."

Trong Khiem turned to the last page of the conclusion, where there was a description of the fire scene. "There is mention here of 'traces of fire in the warehouse management office area, suspected to be caused by an electrical short circuit from old wiring'. But there is no description of taking samples of materials for chemical analysis, which should be a mandatory step in any professional fire cause investigation, especially when there are deaths."

"So does that mean the sample was never taken, or was taken but the results were hidden?" Thien Ly asked, her heart pounding.

"Both possibilities are possible." Trong Khiem replied, his eyes met hers, full of seriousness and even a little bit of anger on her behalf. "If I had been handling this case from the beginning, I would never have let a flawed report like this get signed off."

Thien Ly felt an emotion rising up in her throat. For eight years, she alone carried the burden of doubt, being seen as a daughter who could not accept the truth about her father's death, and was not objective enough to judge right from wrong. Now, sitting in front of her was an expert, an authority, telling her that her doubts were well-founded.

"Thank you." She said, her voice hoarse. "No one has ever told me these things before. Everyone told me I should let go, that I should accept the truth, that digging up will only make me suffer more."

"I don't think it's wrong to seek the truth, no matter how painful it is." Trong Khiem spoke, his voice much softer than his usual stern attitude. "I once saw a family have to live with a false conclusion for years, until they lost all faith in justice. I don't want that to happen again if I can prevent it."

The two of them sat in silence for a while, the only space in the small living room was the sound of the ceiling fan spinning steadily and the chirping of insects coming from the small garden behind the house. Thien Ly looked at Trong Khiem and realized that under the stern, rigid shell of an investigator who always adhered to principles, there was a person with deep empathy, a person who had been hurt by the very system he was serving.

"Mr. Khiem," she asked, her voice quieter, "the case you mentioned, the case that caused you to transfer jobs, what is it?"

Trong Khiem was silent for a long time, his eyes looking far away towards the window, where the streetlights cast a faint streak of light. "An explosion at a small chemical factory. Three workers died. I found evidence that the factory owner intentionally ignored safety regulations to cut costs, but he had very wide connections with the local government. The final conclusion placed the entire blame on a dead worker, who could no longer defend himself."

"So you also witnessed an innocent person being framed after his death." Thien Ly spoke softly, a deep sympathy rising in her heart.

"That's right." Trong Khiem nodded, his voice lowered. "And there was nothing I could do to change that conclusion. That's why I was always so careful that it might make others uncomfortable — because I knew, once the wrong conclusion was signed, there was almost no way to overturn it, unless there was truly irrefutable evidence."

Thien Ly nodded, feeling a new connection between the two, not just colleagues working on the same case, but two people carrying a similar wound in their hearts, sharing a strong desire for justice.

"So what do we do next?" She asked, her voice regaining its usual assertiveness.

"I want to find surviving witnesses from the Vinh Thinh warehouse fire eight years ago." Trong Khiem said, closing the notebook. "Anyone who was at the scene that night, especially the comrades who worked with your father. People's memories may fade with time, but sometimes they remember details that don't appear in any official records."

"I know someone." Thien Ly said immediately, thinking of Mr. Tam Rang, her father's old friend who had retired a long time ago but still often visited the family every holiday. "A former firefighter, was at the scene that night. He never said much about what happened, but I always felt he was hiding something."

"Then we should go see him as soon as possible." Trong Khiem said, his eyes shining with determination. "But we have to be very tactful, Thien Ly. If he's really hiding something out of fear, we need to make him feel safe before he's ready to say it."

When Trong Khiem was about to leave, standing at the door under the dim streetlight, he turned back to look at Thien Ly for a long time, as if he wanted to say something but held back. "Thank you for trusting me to share all of this. I know it's not easy."

"I trust you will treat the truth fairly." Thien Ly replied, her eyes met his for a moment a little longer than usual.

When Trong Khiem had disappeared into the night, Thien Ly stood silently in front of the house for a moment, feeling a strange warmth spread in her heart, mixed with a fierce determination burning more than ever. For the first time in eight years, she felt she was no longer alone on her journey to find the truth for her father.

She went back into the house, put the paper box containing her father's belongings back in the same place in the closet, but this time she didn't lock it like usual. Her mother was sitting at the dining table, pretending to review sales records, but Thien Ly knew she had heard part of the conversation from the next room.

"He seems like a trustworthy person, Ly." Mrs. Van Khanh said, without looking up from her notebook. "I look at the way he reads each page of your father's notebook, as carefully as reading a prayer book. A person who works like that is not someone who will give up halfway."

"I think so too, mom." Thien Ly sat down next to her mother, gently resting her head on her shoulder like when she was a child. "I feel like finally someone really listens, not because they pity me, but because they believe what I say is valid."

Mrs. Van Khanh put down the notebook, grabbed her daughter's hand, and squeezed it gently. "Whatever happens next, I'm glad you no longer have to carry this burden alone."

Mother and daughter sat together for a long time in silence, the warm yellow light of the small kitchen shining down on two faces, one old and one young, sharing a pain that had lasted for eight years, and now, for the first time, sharing a new ray of hope.