Chapter 89 — Shrimp Street Without Name

The third day of Tran Quoc Vinh's trial brought a development that no one in the courtroom, including Hai Yen, completely predicted. After two consecutive days of facing an increasingly solid evidence system — from Nguyen Dang Hoai's detailed testimony shown on videotape, to irrefutable financial documents, to additional testimony from senior employees of Duyen Hai Group who decided to cooperate with the investigation agency — Vinh, through his lawyer, suddenly asked to speak in court himself.

The whole courtroom was abuzz with this unexpected request. The judge, after a short consultation with the other members of the jury, allowed him to speak, under strict procedural supervision.

Vinh stood up and walked to the podium with a calculated slowness. His appearance still tried to maintain some of his inherent majesty, although his eyes were no longer completely confident like the first days of the trial.

“Judge,” he began, his voice sounding firm but with an underlying tension. "I do not stand here to deny that serious mistakes were made during the operation of the corporation under my leadership. But I also want the jury to understand the context in which difficult decisions were made."

He went on to present a complex argument, attempting to paint a picture of a businessman forced to make difficult choices to save thousands of jobs, to maintain the stability of an entire province's vital export industry, implying that the mistakes, while serious, stemmed from harsh business pressures rather than deliberate criminal intent.

"I admit that I did not closely and adequately supervise what was going on at the lower level," he said, "and I am willing to take responsibility for that lack of management. But I affirm that I never directly ordered harm to anyone, and I am truly heartbroken by the consequences that happened to the victims."

The representative of the Procuracy, when it was his turn to question, did not let that ingenious argument have a chance to stand. He showed live a new recording, provided by Hoai in the most recent collaboration, in which Vinh's voice rang out clearly, giving specific instructions on "finally handling" the issue related to Mr. Do Van Tien ten years ago, a recording that had never before been published.

Silence filled the courtroom as the recording ended. Vinh stood silently on the podium, his face pale, for the first time since the trial began, completely losing the confidence and control he had tried to maintain.

“Can you explain this recording?” The representative of the Procuracy asked, his voice sharp.

Vinh took a long time before answering, and when he spoke, his voice had lost its initial certainty. “I... I don't remember the specific context of that conversation,” he faltered, a weak answer clearly not convincing enough in the face of the obvious evidence that had just been presented.

The defense attorney, realizing that the situation was becoming seriously unfavorable, hastily intervened, requesting a temporary halt to the trial to privately consult with his client. The judge approved request, declare a break in the middle of the session.

During the break, Hai Yen sat quietly with her companions, feeling a deep shock at what she had just witnessed. “That recording,” she said, her voice still shaking slightly, “it directly confirms that he knew, and even gave orders, about my father's incident.”

Lawyer Hoang nodded, her voice could not hide her cautious excitement. "This may be the most decisive evidence in the entire case. A direct, irrefutable recording clearly proves his consciousness and direction. It is very difficult for his legal team to find a way to effectively refute this evidence."

When the trial resumed after a break, the defense tried to argue that the recording may have been edited or quoted out of context, asking the court to allow an independent technical expert before recognizing the validity of this evidence. The judge granted the request for expert examination, but also noted that, combined with the entire body of other evidence presented, this recording, although in need of further technical verification, significantly strengthened the prosecution's case.

Tuesday's trial ended with a clear sense that the scales of justice were tilting strongly in favor of the victims, and that Tran Quoc Vinh, despite all his resources and a powerful team of lawyers, was gradually losing control of the narrative he had tried to build over the years to protect himself.

On the way home, Hai Yen received a call from Minh Khang, who informed that the recording, although not yet officially made public because it was still in the appraisal process, had begun to be widely mentioned on legal forums and social networks, creating a strong wave of public opinion in support of the prosecution.

“Everything is going just as we hoped,” Kien said, holding Hai Yen's hand as they sat in the car on the way home. "Only a few days left, Ms. Yen. We are closer to the finish line than ever before."

Hai Yen nodded, feeling a surge of hope rising in her heart, mixed with a caution that had become instinctive after everything she had been through. But this time, that hope carries a different weight — no longer the fragile hope of the early days, but a firm belief built on the foundation of undeniable truth.

That night, before going to bed, Hai Yen called Nguyen Dang Hoai through the line arranged by the investigation agency, a short but meaningful call. She wanted to personally thank him for providing the important recording, even though she knew his motives were not entirely from pure repentance.

“I don't expect you to thank me,” Hoai said over the phone, his voice a bit tired but also more relieved than before. "I'm just doing what I should have done a long time ago. If that recording helps bring Vinh to light, then at least the rest of my life will have some meaning, however small."

The call ended briefly, but left Hai Yen with a familiar, complicated feeling — the recognition that, even in a story about crime and justice, the line between the guilty and the redeemed is not always perfectly clear. opposite, and that the truth is often constructed from the imperfect pieces of many people, each with their own motivations and mistakes.

She wrote in her notebook before turning off the light: "The third day ended with a major turning point. I believe that, in just a few days, Dad, justice will truly be complete, not only for my family, but for everyone who has suffered under the shadow of power and greed for so many years."

Before falling asleep, she received another text message from Elena, who continued to closely monitor the trial proceedings from her role as an international observer even though she was no longer required to be present after completing her initial monitoring duties. “I read the report about the recording today,” Elena wrote. "This is a rare turning point in cases of this type. I am proud to have been a part, however small, in her journey to seek justice."

Hai Yen smiled at that text message, typed back a short thank you before putting down the phone. She lay down on the bed, her mind still reeling from the image of Vinh's pale face when the recording played, an image she knew would remain imprinted in her mind long after the trial ended. But this time, as sleep gradually came, she felt a serenity she had never felt since the day she set foot back in Nam Can, as if the burden that had been on her shoulders for nearly ten years was gradually being lifted off, little by little, with each piece of evidence that came to light, each layer of fear and silence of the past was gradually being replaced by a complete truth that she had persistently pursued throughout a long, arduous yet meaningful journey.