Chapter 2 — Profile 9:17

The rain outside seemed to show no signs of stopping, each wave of wind whistled through the ancient trees on Nguyen Du Street like the dull cry of a soul that had not yet been transcended. Inside the office, the atmosphere was so quiet that you could clearly hear the sound of raindrops hitting the window glass. Lawyer Trinh Vu turned on another light to dispel the darkness that was gradually encroaching on the room when it was noon but the clouds were still dark. The yellow light from the lamp shined on his angular face, clearly illuminating the deep wrinkles on his forehead. Le Nhu Van sat opposite, her hands clasped together on the edge of the table, her eyes never leaving the plastic-wrapped file she had just brought.

"Miss Van, before opening this file, I want to confirm it again," Vu spoke up, his voice warm but extremely serious. "These documents have been buried under a layer of plaster under the altar for the past ten years, and no one in the family, including your mother, knows of their existence?"

"Yes, lawyer," Van nodded affirmatively. "My mother didn't know at all. That day, before my father went to work, he seemed very restless. He locked the door to the altar room for a long time. Only now, when dismantling the altar to move house, I accidentally broke the plaster underneath and discovered this secret cavity."

Vu let out a sigh. He carefully used scissors to cut off the yellowed moisture-proof plastic bag. Inside was a dark blue hardcover notebook, the spine of the notebook was worn, revealing loose stitches. Attached to the notebook is an A4-sized envelope containing a few hand-developed photos and a tiny cassette tape commonly used for pocket recorders in the past. Vu gently flipped open each page of the notebook. This is the personal construction diary of engineer Le Van Sang.

The page gave off a musty smell, but the handwritten words in blue ink were still very sharp. The handwriting of a technical person: straight, square and without any softness or flutter. Vu quickly scrolled through notes about the weather, number of workers, and construction progress in the first months of 2016. Everything was normal, until he turned to the pages of notes in September, about a month before the scaffolding collapse occurred.

"September 15, 2016," Vu read out loud, his index finger lightly tracing each line. "'The project management board forced to use batches of cement and steel reinforcement from supplier Hung Thinh. Inspection of field samples showed that the concrete grade only met P-250 standard, while the mandatory technical design requirement for bridge piers with heavy loads was F-400 grade. I resolutely refused to sign the material acceptance record. Had a big argument with Director Thang'."

Van moved forward, pointing to a line of words underlined in red ink on the next page. "You look at September 20th."

Vu squinted his eyes at the bright red text. "'Loads of poor quality materials are still brought into the construction site at night. Bui Van Deo is the person who directly directs the loading team. I made a record to suspend construction, but the next morning, the record disappeared from the operating room. They are toying with human lives'."

Lawyer Vu leaned back in his chair, his eyes distant. Ten years ago, when he was still a lawyer As an intern assisting Lawyer Pham Quoc Hoang, he was read the indictment and case file. In the entire archives of the investigation agency, there is no mention of the construction materials having their concrete grade changed from F-400 to P-250. Furthermore, the construction quality inspection report conducted by a special working group after the accident confirmed that the materials were completely up to standard, and the only cause of the incident was due to the scaffolding structure being changed incorrectly.

"The material acceptance report presented to the court ten years ago has your father's signature, Ms. Van," Vu said slowly, trying to observe his client's reaction. "The investigation agency relied on that signature to confirm that engineer Le Van Sang agreed with the quality of the batch of materials, and therefore, the collapse of the scaffolding could only be due to his own load-bearing calculation error during the concrete pouring process."

"Fake signature!" Van exclaimed, her voice choked with anger. "My father would rather lose his job than ever sign a paper agreeing to use fake materials to build a bridge. Lawyer, look carefully at this book, my father has carefully compared the difference in subsidence of concrete. He is a person who loves his job to the point of stubbornness, how could he sign?"

"I believe you," Vu said, pushing the notebook towards Van. "But in the law, our beliefs are not as valuable as evidence. If the old acceptance report is a forged signature, we need an independent forensic examination agency to prove it. The problem is..." Vu paused, biting his lower lip. "The entire original file of the Tan Cang case, including the acceptance report signed by her father, was burned in a fire at the archives of the City People's Court five years ago. The authorities only kept the digital copy. And the copy cannot be examined for the strong pen strokes on the paper."

Van was stunned. Hope flashed in her eyes like a bucket of cold water. "Fire? Why is it such a coincidence? So we're completely out of options?"

"Not really," Vu smiled, a cold smile that resembled an old wolf. He picked up the tiny cassette tape that fit neatly in the envelope. "We cannot verify the signature on the burned paper, but we still have a piece of evidence that has never been published. Whoever forged the signature, whoever burned the archive, certainly could not have imagined the existence of this tape."

He stood up, went to the ironwood cabinet in the corner of the room, opened the bottom drawer and took out a Sony handheld tape recorder from the 90s, still working well. He carefully inserted the cassette into the tray and pressed the Play button. The sizzling sounds of frictional magnetism rang out, lasting about ten seconds, before a hoarse, authoritative voice spoke up.

"Sang, stop being stubborn. This Tan Cang project is not a playground for you to demonstrate your professional ethics!"

Van was startled, her hands clutching the armrests of the chair. Even though the sound wasn't really clear, she immediately recognized the deep voice that responded right after. That was her father.

"Director Thang, I said it very clearly," engineer Sang's voice was resolute, without the slightest trepidation. "Concrete grade P-250 cannot withstand the load of the intermediate span heart. If you keep forcing the construction team to pour concrete tonight, the scaffolding will collapse. What do you think about the lives of dozens of workers there?"

The faint laughter of the man named Thang rang out coldly through the thinly forged magnetic tape. "Life? Do you think the people sitting in my chair care about a few trivial lives? Project costs have been in serious deficit. We need to save from these batches of materials. He just turned a blind eye and signed the acceptance form. Everyone will take care of everything after that."

"I didn't sign!" Engineer Sang shouted harshly, the harsh sound of banging on the table entered the recording microphone. "I will send a report directly to the Inspectorate of the Ministry of Construction. Don't think you can cover the sky with money."

The recording tape suddenly went silent for a few seconds. There was only a cold sizzling sound. Then Director Thang's voice rang out, slow, low and extremely threatening. "Mr. Sang, you have a daughter named Van, nineteen years old this year, in her first year at University of Economics, right? Lately, Saigon's streets are crowded and traffic accidents often occur. Do you understand what I mean?"

Hearing this, Van burst into tears. Her whole body trembled. It turned out that behind the resolute defense of his principles, her father was under terrible pressure, a life-or-death threat aimed directly at his only daughter.

In the tape, engineer Sang's breathing sounded heavily. "What... what are you planning to do to my daughter? Damn it!”

"Sign, Sang. Sign, and let Deo's team do the construction normally tomorrow. You just need to not be at the scene when the concrete is poured. Don't make me repeat it a second time."

The video ends with the sound of a door slamming shut. Then there was a long silence until the tape ran out. Vu pressed the Stop button. The office space fell silent, except for Le Nhu Van's suppressed crying.

Vu walked over and patted Van on the shoulder. "The person named Thang in this tape is Do Trong Thang, former General Director of Dinh Phat Group, who is currently holding the position of Chairman of the Board of Directors of a large bank. His power now is ten times greater than it was ten years ago."

"They killed my father... because he refused to compromise, then created a fake crime scene to frame him," Van sobbed, looking up at Vu with red eyes. "Lawyer Trinh Vu, is this tape enough to force him to pay for his crime?"

Vu shook his head, his expression extremely cautious. "Very difficult. A secretly recorded tape has no absolute value in court without a voice examination, but the opponent has the power to bribe or pressure to deny its authenticity. Furthermore, it only proves that Thang threatened to force her father to sign, but does not prove that Thang was the person who directly ordered the scaffolding to be demolished to kill her father."

Vu returned to the table, pulled out a two billion dong transaction document from a Do paper envelope, and placed it next to the recording tape. "But we have a second piece of the puzzle. Two billion VND was transferred to Bui Van Deo - Construction Team Leader - right before the scaffold collapsed. Deo was the person who directly mobilized the workers, and was also the most important surviving witness. If we can connect this tape with that document, the whole picture will be clear: Do Trong Thang bribed Deo to stage the accident, in order to killed her father - a thorn in his side, and at the same time blamed all the sins on the dead man."

"So what do we do now?" Van asked, her eyes flashing with determination. She finished crying, her tears gave way to extreme indignation.

"We have to find Bui Van Deo," Vu said, stuffing the documents and tape into a steel safety box, locking the code carefully. "After the accident, Deo received compensation for work accidents and then disappeared from the city. It is rumored that he returned to his hometown in the West to open a large shrimp farm. Only when Deo opens his mouth to tell the truth about the two billion dong transaction will the 9:17 file really be turned over.

Vu turned to look at Van, his voice became unusually serious. "Miss Van, you need to understand that, when we step on this path, we are challenging a force that can manipulate human lives. Ten years ago, they stopped at nothing. Now, if they know you have this notebook and tape, your life will be in danger."

"I'm not afraid," Van replied simply, standing up straight. Her thin appearance now exuded an unbreakable resilience. "The truth has been buried for too long."

Vu nodded and flashed a rare smile. "Okay. Starting tomorrow, she will work as a temporary legal assistant at this office. All movements must be absolutely confidential."

He reached out to turn off the LED desk lamp when he suddenly stopped. Through the gap in the shutter curtain, Vu's sharp eyes caught sight of a black SUV parked silently under an oil tree across the street. The car had no lights on, the license plate was obscured by darkness and torrential rain. Even though the distance was quite far, Vu still vaguely recognized the figure of a man wearing a dark coat sitting in the driver's seat, aiming his binoculars straight at his office window.

"Someone is watching us," Vu muttered, quickly pulling all the curtains closed, trapping the room in yellow light. The real deadly game of cat and mouse has begun. The challenge from the envelope wrapped in Do paper officially opened. Someone out there knows exactly what he's holding, and they won't let the truth from ten years ago come out in the sunlight.