Chapter 6 — Music Without Chorus

Saturday morning, An brought a small backpack, which contained a recorder, spare batteries, a vibration transmitter and a blank notebook. Vy wanted to go with him to the ferry station but An did not agree. The text message asking her to go alone could be a trap, or it could also be the sender's way of checking whether she respects the conditions or not.

“I'll stand at the bar across the street,” Vy said. “Not intruding, but seeing you.”

“If anything happens, call me.”

"I'll call before anything happens. You usually wait until everything burns to report."

Thu Thiem ferry terminal is crowded with people going to work and people carrying goods. Motorbikes lined up, the sound of engines exploding mixed with the sounds of people selling bread. An chose a bench near the railing, where she could see both the entrance to the wharf and the cafe opposite. The green notebook in the photo is not on the chair.

She waited ten minutes, then twenty minutes. Nam called, An did not pick up. She knew he would guess she was coming to the ferry, but she didn't want him to show up. Just as she was about to stand up, a woman around sixty years old placed a cloth bag next to the chair.

“Are you Mai An?”

“Who are you?”

"My name is Diep. I used to work as a secretary for Le Chi."

She didn't sit right away. An observed her hands, her nails were clean, her thumb had calluses from holding a pen for many years. She didn't look like someone who wanted to sell a secret.

“Where is the green book?” An asked.

“There is no notebook.”

“So the message?”

“I sent.”

Ms. Diep looked down at the ferry slowly leaving the wharf. "I need to know if you're alone. Is that person standing across the street your friend?"

An did not reply. Mrs. Diep nodded, seemingly understanding.

“Lam was not in a simple accident,” she said. "But I don't have enough evidence to charge anyone. I kept a copy of the payment book and a tape. The tape was taken. Half of the payment book is left."

“Why give it to me?”

"Because Khai Nam is back, and because she doesn't want to use her story to sell albums. Le Chi once said that the sound person will actually ask who gets paid before asking if the song is good."

An's throat feels dry. “You know Nam will make an album?”

“He called me three months ago.”

Nam did not speak. An didn't know whether to be angry because he hid it or because Mrs. Diep knew more than both of them.

She took out a thin envelope from the cloth bag, did not hand it straight, but placed it on the chair. "There's a copy of the notebook and a memory card in here. I don't know if the card is still intact."

An opened the envelope with gloves. The snapshot shows payments from Milky Way for “archive fees,” “sample processing fees,” and “artist family support fees.” These payments went through three different companies, but were all signed by the same person.

“Quang Vu?”

"His name appears at the end of the chain. The direct signer was a man named Duc, who was in charge of legal affairs at that time."

An turns the page. In the last line it says “Lam — resolved”. There are no numbers.

“Do you know what that means?”

"Lam was once asked by the company to sign a money receipt in exchange for recording rights. He refused."

“So why does it still say resolved?”

“That's why he's afraid.”

A truck stopped near the station, blocking An's view. As the car drove away, the man wearing the blue shirt from the day before was standing about ten meters away from Mrs. Diep. He didn't look at An, just looked at the envelope.

Mrs. Diep whispered: "Don't give the card to Nam right away. Don't let anyone keep the only copy."

An puts the memory card in a separate compartment. “Do you know Le? Where is Chi?

“She lives in a seaside town. Don't want to be found.”

“Are you still in contact?”

"Have. But if I give you the address, you will bring this to her doorstep.”

“I won't go if she doesn't agree.”

Mrs. Diep looked at An for a moment, then wrote the phone number on the edge of the paper. “Call during the time she teaches music. Don't mention the company name."

The man in blue started walking towards them. Mrs. Diep stood up, holding the cloth bag.

“Which way are you going?”

“I have my way.”

“If he follows?”

“He has been following for many years.”

She walked down to the wharf and joined the group of people waiting for the ferry. An did not chase. She turned on the recorder and recorded the time and location. When he turned back, the man in the blue shirt had disappeared. Vy ran over from the cafe.

“What's wrong?”

An gave the photocopy to Vy to see. “We have the ledger, but we don't have the original yet.”

“And someone wants it.”

“Maybe he was just a passerby.”

Vy looked at An. “Don't use your doubts to deny what you see.”

Nam's phone called back. This time An picked up the phone.

“Are you at the ferry terminal?”

“I knew and still asked.”

“I want to talk about Mrs. Diep.”

“I called her three months ago.”

“I called to ask about Le Chi, I didn't know she still kept the book.”

“Why don't you say it?”

“Because I don't want you to think I'm using Le Chi's name to lure you in.”

“You pulled me in from the moment you sent the demo.”

Nam was silent. Then he said: “I'm outside your house.”

An turned towards the parking lot. Nam's old car parked across the street, but he did not get out. “I told you not to come.”

“I'm not going in. I just want to make sure you're safe.”

“I don't need anyone to watch over me.”

"I know."

“So why do you still do it?”

“Because I didn't do that with Lam before.”

These words made An unable to continue being angry. She turned off the engine, but did not leave the station immediately. Vy pulled her into the cafe and checked the memory card on the tablet. There are three folders: “expenses”, “advances”, “transfers”. The last folder is encrypted.

“Is there a password?” Vy asked.

An remembers the rhythm of tapping four times, pausing, once. She tried entering the string 4-4-1. No way. Then she entered the date Lam died. The screen opens.

In the folder there is a short text file: "If anyone can open it, find the person who was standing outside the studio on August 16. It's not Quang. Not Nam.”

Vy finished reading and looked up. “Is there anyone standing outside the studio?”

An looked at old photos on his phone. The young man holding the tape in the corner of the photo has his name tag covered. She zoomed in. Below the name tag appears a part of the text: "Tran Duc Minh".

“The person in charge of legal affairs,” An said.

“So why does the file say it's not Quang, not Nam?”

“Because this person was standing there.”

An called the number Mrs. Diep gave her, but only listened to the switchboard. A text message from an unknown number arrived shortly after: “You have received the book. Now ask Khai Nam who closed the studio that day.”

Vy looked at An. “Are you still planning to make an album?”

An puts away the memory card. “If we stop, they will call all this old news.”

At the parking lot, Nam opened the door for An. She didn't sit down right away.

“Do you know Tran Duc Minh?”

Nam looked towards the line of cars. “I know. He was the one who told me to sign the documents.”

“Who closed the studio on August 16?”

Nam did not answer. His hands were on the steering wheel, his knuckles were white.

“I know.”

“I know the person who locked the door. But I don't know what he did after that.”

"Name."

Nam said very much softly: “Duc Minh.”

At that moment, a motorbike passed by, and the person sitting behind threw a small object into the car door. It was a black USB, with the number 7 engraved on it. An picked it up. The indicator light on the USB flashes once, then turns off.

Don't plug in the USB right away. She asked Nam if he recognized the car that threw it. Nam said he could only see the color of the shirt of the person sitting behind him. Vy checked the restaurant's camera, but the camera angle was covered by a billboard.

“We don't know who sent it,” Vy said. “It could be Duc Minh, it could be someone who wants him to be exposed.”

An puts the USB in the box. "It doesn't change the rules. Don't open it on a computer with a network."

Nam looked at the box. “What if there is an original in there?”

“Don't open it yet.”

On the way home, An asked Nam about his mother. He said she used to work as a garment worker and didn't understand copyright but always remembered the writer's name on old notebooks. When she was hospitalized, Nam accepted money from Quang because he had no choice. Quang did not force him to sign with a knife; he just put the bill on the table and said the interest rate would increase every day.

“I don't want to make my mother an excuse,” Nam said.

“Those are circumstances, not excuses.”

"I know. But people often use circumstances to excuse themselves from responsibility."

An looked out the car window. She used the accident to refuse projects that did not respect her, but sometimes she also used it to prove to herself that she had to work faster than others. Circumstances may be the rope, but the person holding the rope is still you.

Returning to Mach Nuoc, Tung called to report that the man in the blue shirt at the ferry terminal was not an employee of the company. He used to work as a driver for a subsidiary of Milky Way, quit after the southern warehouse closed. His name is Bay, address is in Binh Chanh. He agreed to meet but only talked to An and Vy.

An doesn't leave right away. She wants to check the USB first, but Bay may be the only link who still remembers the route. They met the next morning at an agricultural machinery repair shop.

Bay carries a notebook to record the route. He said Duc Minh often rented a truck to transport boxes of equipment to the southern warehouse, but the last time a box was brought to Quang's private home. On the way, he heard the sound of a tape running from behind, then heard the person accompanying him tell him to turn off the car before reaching his destination.

“Do you remember the person who came with you?” An asked.

"A girl with short hair. She kept holding her file bag."

An asked about the hospital logo on the bag. Seven nodded. "She is Lam's sister. Her name is Linh, but she is not a singer. She works as a nurse."

Vy recorded it. Another Linh, the one who carried the original out of the theater, is alive and may be somewhere in the hospital system.

Bay gave An an old piece of paper with the license plate number. "I kept it because they didn't pay me enough money that year. I don't know what it has to do with it."

An put the papers in an evidence bag. Before leaving, Bay said: "Don't trust people who only give you half the truth. But also don't trust people who tell everything too quickly. People who tell everything are usually rehearsed."

An remembers Nam. She didn't know if that sentence was a warning or a habit of someone who carried too many secrets.

In the afternoon, she and Vy opened the USB in the offline device. The folder contains an audio file, a spreadsheet, and a stock transfer photo. The audio file is not music, just Duc Minh's conversation with Quang. Quang asked if he had got all the originals. Duc Minh replied: "There is one roll left, but someone brought it out."

A female voice in the background said: “I will pay the named person.”

An stop file. "Sacred."

Nam stood by the door, just arrived. “She is Lam's sister?”

"Seemingly."

"I met her at the hospital. I don't remember her name."

An looked at him, but did not blame him. “Now we have to find the right person and not let the two Spirits get mixed up.”

The spreadsheet on the USB has a line of hospital address and transfer date. The bottom reads: “Original — holder: L.”

An closed the machine. “Look for L tomorrow.”