Chapter 15 — The Journey of the Missing Bronze Drum

Diem's phone rang at eleven o'clock at night, the number that appeared was Hoai Co Duong's landline - she had saved it from the first time they met, even though she never thought she would receive a call from this number at such a late hour.

"Diem, I'm sorry for calling so late," Ta Bach Son's voice rang out, tense and somewhat out of breath, as if he had just walked quickly or was trying to suppress some intense emotion. "Can you come to my gallery now? Just you alone, if that's okay. I don't want to talk about this over the phone."

"What's up?" she asked, already jumping up from the bed, reaching for her coat.

"I... I need to show you something. And I think I need to tell you something I haven't dared to say this afternoon." His voice trembled visibly. "Please, don't bring the police. At least not yet."

Diem called Hai immediately after hanging up and recounted the call verbatim. He objected to letting her go alone, but eventually gave in to her argument: if Ta Bach Son was really about to reveal something important, the appearance of the police might scare him into retreating. They compromised: Diem came alone, but Hai would park his car not far away, keep his phone open throughout the meeting, ready to intervene if there were any signs of danger.

Hoai Co Duong was dark when Diem arrived, only a single light was on in the old living room, where Ta Bach Son sat alone at the table, in front of him was a half-empty bottle of wine, although he didn't look drunk - just exhausted, like a person who had stayed up many nights in a row with thoughts that had no way out.

"Thank you for coming," he said, not getting up to greet her like he did before.

Diem sat down opposite, saying nothing, waiting for him to speak at his own pace. She glanced at the phone in her coat pocket, the screen was still on, the call with Hai was still open, the volume was turned off to not attract attention, but she was sure he was listening to every word on the other end of the line, sitting silently in the car parked less than a hundred meters away.

The only light in the room casts a long shadow on the wall, where a black-and-white photo of Vinh Sa port still hangs in place, now like a silent witness to a lifetime torn between the sin of inheritance and the desire to live right.

"After you left this afternoon," he began, his voice slow as if he were choosing each word, "I called the phone number I've been using to contact Van for the first time in months of silence. I wanted to ask directly whether his people were following you. I thought, if so, I needed to know so I could warn you, even though that might put me in danger."

"What did he answer?"

Ta Bach Son closed his eyes for a moment. "He didn't deny it. He just said, almost verbatim: 'You better take care of yourself. You've done your part, don't make me remind you why you still keep this beautiful gallery.'" His voice choked up. "It was the first time in many years that he spoke to me in such a nakedly threatening tone, without the usual veneer of politeness."

Diem felt a rush of adrenaline run through her body, even though she tried to keep a calm appearance. "Did you record that call?"

"Have." Ta Bach Son pushed his phone across the table, the screen already opened a recording file. "I've been recording every call I've had with him for many years now, a self-defense habit I established a long time ago, even though I never dared to think about what I would use them for. I think, deep down, I always knew I would need them one day, even though I didn't have the courage to admit it to myself."

Diem picked up the phone, her hands shaking slightly. "I need to copy all of this data, following evidence capture procedures, so it has legal value."

"I know," he said, "and I agree. But before you do that, I need you to understand one thing: once you take these recordings, there will be no turning back for me. Van will know right away that I have betrayed him, and I'm not just worried about myself. I also have a daughter in college abroad, a divorced wife who still lives nearby, who could be a target if he wanted to retaliate."

Diem put down the phone and looked straight at him. "I can't promise you that everything will be absolutely safe. But I can promise that we will do everything in our power to protect you and your family, as soon as you decide to officially cooperate. Your continued silence, on the contrary, does not make you safer — it only makes you forever a hostage of a man willing to use even your father's death to control you for life."

Ta Bach Son sat quietly for a long time, his hand clutching the unfinished wine glass. When he looked up, there was a change in his eyes, as if some difficult decision had just been made after years of procrastination.

"Okay," he said, his voice still shaky but a little more steady. "Please take the recording. And there's one more thing I need to tell you, something I accidentally heard on the call tonight, even though Van didn't mean to reveal it."

"What?"

"He mentioned a name, perhaps a code, while talking to someone next to him while forgetting to turn off the speakerphone for a few seconds: 'the TXHU trip has not changed its schedule, it still goes as planned.'" Ta Bach Son looked at her, waiting for a reaction. "I don't understand what it means, but I think you will understand."

Diem sat stunned. TXHU — exactly the prefix she saw on Mr. Dang's screen at the chemical inspection station, container number TXHU seven seven three zero zero two, the shipment declared "fine art ceramics for export", scheduled to board the ship tomorrow.

“That container is not a diversion,” she said, almost whispering to herself, her heart pounding. "It's a real container."

She stood up immediately, took out her phone, and turned on the speaker so Ta Bach Son could hear. "Hai, do you hear me clearly?"

"Listen," his voice came through the speakers, tense but well controlled. "TXHU seven seven three zero zero two, scheduled to board the ship tomorrow afternoon. I immediately called Mr. Dang, asked to keep the container for reconciliation, using the excuse of periodic random checks, without giving any details related to the source of information we just had."

"Don't reveal that someone in the line leaked the news," Diem added, glancing at Ta Bach Son, who was sitting motionless, his face pale as he had just realized the irreversible consequences of the decision he had just made. "If the container is detained too suddenly compared to the normal process, Vu Bach Long can immediately deduce where the leak is coming from."

"I understand," Hai replied. "I will let Mr. Dang handle it according to the usual customs probability checking process, which seems completely random."

The call ended, Diem turned to look at Ta Bach Son, who was still sitting motionless, holding his head with both hands.

“I just betrayed someone who had threatened me for years,” he said, sounding both relieved and panicked at the same time, a conflicting emotional state that only someone who has just crossed a threshold of no return can fully understand. "I don't know if I just did the right thing in my life, or the stupidest thing."

"Maybe both at the same time," Diem said, her voice softening, sitting down again across from him. "But I believe the right thing rarely feels safe at the moment it happens. It only becomes clearly right in retrospect, after everything is over."

She looked straight at him, her voice completely serious. "From now until the incident ends, I need you to leave here, to a safer place. I will arrange to go to Hai. You cannot stay in this gallery another night, at least until we arrest Vu Bach Long."

Ta Bach Son nodded, not resisting, like a person who was so exhausted that he was no longer able to decide anything for himself, and could only entrust himself to those who had just become his reluctant allies.

Before leaving the gallery, Diem stopped at the door, turned to look at him one last time in the yellow light. "Mr. Son, I cannot promise that the law will be lenient on what you have done in the past. But I can promise that I will fully, honestly, record your decision tonight when reporting to superiors. That will make sense, when everything comes to light."

He didn't answer right away, just nodded again, his eyes following her as she walked out the door, disappearing into the darkness of the yard, carrying with her the phone containing the recordings that could change the entire outcome of the case - and perhaps, the rest of his own life.