Chapter 16 — The Journey of the Missing Bronze Drum

The next morning, Diem and Hai were present at Vinh Sa port before seven o'clock, carrying with them a copy of Ta Bach Son's recording that had been confiscated in accordance with the procedure, along with an urgent inspection coordination order that Hai had obtained from his superiors that night, based on newly collected evidence.

Mr. Dang welcomed them at the chemical inspection station, his face equally tense. "I told the balance team to work from five o'clock in the morning, avoiding rush hour so as not to attract attention. TXHU container seven seven three zero zero two is still in the waiting yard, not yet loaded onto the ship."

"What were the weighing results?" Diem asked, unable to contain her excitement.

Mr. Dang gave them a printed slip. "Declared weight on bill of lading: four thousand two hundred kilograms, including goods and packaging. Actual weight weighed this morning: four thousand two hundred thirty-seven kilograms." He pointed to the difference. "Thirty-seven kilograms more than declared."

Diem and Hai looked at each other. Thirty-seven kilograms — exactly the weight of bronze drum LU-07 according to excavation records.

"That's not a coincidence," Diem said, her voice shaking with excitement and tension. "It's the first physical evidence that directly confirms our hypothesis."

She remembered the first morning at Go Lang Uyen, when she knelt next to the circular dust trail on the velvet pedestal, estimating the weight of the artifact based on the diameter of the remaining mark. The number thirty-seven pounds, then just a technical detail in the field report, has now become the connecting thread from the moment of discovering the loss to here, a container yard hundreds of kilometers away from the scene.

"How do you think it got into the container?" Hai asked, looking out at the row of containers stacked high in the distance. "Hidden among the ceramics like a layer of filler?"

"Maybe," Diem replied, imagining the packaging techniques she had read about in reports about international antiquities smuggling. "A common technique is to wrap metal artifacts in many layers of moisture-proof fabric, then place them between layers of ceramic packaging to scatter images on the X-ray machine, and at the same time use the ceramic mass itself to 'camouflage' the weight difference, so that it remains within the acceptable threshold of the standard measurement error margin."

"The difference of thirty-seven kilograms on a container of ceramic goods weighing more than four tons," Mr. Dang said, the cautious tone of someone used to working with probabilities and errors, "may still be within the allowable margin of measurement error according to normal regulations, even at the high level of that margin. It is enough for us to have a basis to open the container for physical inspection, but not enough for it alone to become absolute evidence of guilt without other accompanying factors."

"We have other elements," Hai said, presenting the audio recording that had been converted into text, along with the entire chain of evidence they had built over the past two weeks. "Enough for me to apply for an official search warrant this morning."

Mr. Dang nodded, but there was still worry clearly visible on his face. "If you open this container right now, and it actually contains artifacts, Vu Bach Long will immediately know who leaked the information — not many people know about this specific shipment outside of his company. You need to consider a plan to protect your sources before taking action."

Diem nodded, understanding that better than anyone after last night. "We have a plan to move him to a safe place. But you're right, we need to be careful about when and how we announce the opening of the container, so as not to create too clear a line leading back to the source."

While waiting for the official search warrant to be processed, Diem and Hai decided not to directly approach the container area, to avoid attracting early attention. Instead, they spent time reviewing all of Toan Hai Phat's shipping records for the most recent six months that Mr. Dang provided, looking for similar container codes that had been used, trying to reconstruct a more complete picture of the scale of the line's operations.

"I found something remarkable," Hai said, after nearly an hour of searching. "In the past eighteen months, there have been a total of nine containers with the same unusual declaration characteristics like this - the declared value is higher than the average, the weight always fluctuates slightly compared to the declaration, all passing through the Bay Sa - Kaohsiung - Singapore route. If each container corresponds to one or several large-sized artifacts smuggled abroad, the actual damage figure is much larger than what we initially imagined when focusing only on the Go Lang Uyen case."

Diem felt a dull anger rising in her heart, not an explosive anger, but a cold, controlled anger, an emotion that had been refined over many years of working. "Nine containers, in eighteen months. It's not an opportunistic mom-and-pop operation. It's a systematic business, running as smoothly as any legitimate supply chain."

"That's what Elena Marchetti said," Hai repeated. "Rangs that survive long enough learn to operate like real businesses, not like impulsive criminal gangs."

Diem opened her laptop and immediately sent preliminary information about the nine suspected containers to Elena via the established secure communication channel, along with a request that she cross-check with Singapore and Kaohsiung customs data to see if there were any import records that matched the time, helping to determine the final destination of each previous shipment. Just a few minutes later, a brief reply message appeared: "Currently checking. Will contact as soon as the results are available. Be careful."

She closed her laptop and turned to Mr. Dang who was waiting in the office doorway. "We need a full copy of these nine containers' records, with proper stamp confirmation, to serve as a basis for expanding the project if necessary later."

"I will prepare right away," Mr. Dang said, then hesitated one more sentence. "Miss Diem, I've worked at this port for twenty years. I thought I understood every aspect of operations here quite well. It turns out I was very wrong."

"No one blames me," Diem said, her voice sincere. "The way this ring operated was specifically designed to bypass the very people with the most dedicated oversight responsibility. That's not your fault, but a testament to the sophistication of those behind it."

Near noon, the search warrant was officially approved and delivered to Hai via secure email. He nodded at Diem, his eyes serious.

"It's time," he said. "But before opening the container, I think we need to do something else first - confront Vu Bach Long directly, inform him of the search warrant on the spot, following the legal process. If he is truly innocent as shown on the papers over the past eight years, he will cooperate. If not..."

"Otherwise, we will see the true reaction of a person who knows he is about to be exposed," Diem finished her sentence, stood up, clutching the file in her hand. "I've been waiting for this moment for twelve years, Hai. I'm ready."

Before leaving the chemical inspection station, Hai called two more colleagues from the economic police team to assist, in case the situation became complicated. He also contacted the unit that had arranged a safe place for Ta Bach Son to confirm that he had been successfully moved to a discreet location outside the suburbs since early morning, with security guards discreetly monitoring him for twenty-four hours.

"Everything is ready," he said, closing the phone and turning to Diem. "Are you sure you want to come with me to meet Long? As an expert, you can completely stand outside and let the professional team handle the direct confrontation."

Diem looked at him, her eyes unwavering. "I've been standing on the sidelines for twelve years, Hai. Waiting for an explanation that never came, a truth that no one was willing to tell. This time, I want to look him straight in the eyes when he knows that finally, someone has found out."

Hai nodded, did not argue further, just placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment, a brief but powerful gesture of encouragement. "Then let's go."

They walked out of the chemical inspection station, across the hot sunny vacant lot, towards the row of white-painted warehouses with blue signs of Toan Hai Phat, where behind the glass door reflecting the bright sunlight, a man still did not know that this morning would be the last morning he could confidently walk on the very territory he had painstakingly built over the past twelve years.

The sea breeze blew stronger as they approached, carrying with it the familiar smell of salt, along with the steady whistling of container cranes in the distance, like a never-ending soundtrack to the seaport that never stopped moving, regardless of what was really going on underneath that shell of daily hustle and bustle.