Chapter 17 — The Journey of the Missing Bronze Drum

Vu Bach Long's office is located on the second floor of the Toan Hai Phat executive building, with large glass doors overlooking the entire container yard below - a carefully chosen location, allowing those sitting inside to observe every movement that no one outside can see clearly thanks to the reflective glass.

The young receptionist seemed confused when she saw the sudden appearance of the group - Diem, Hai, and two plainclothes economic police colleagues - but when Hai showed her industry card and search warrant, she immediately called up to report, her voice trembling.

While waiting in the lobby, Diem observed Toan Hai Phat's office space - neat, modern, filled with certificates of merit for "Reputable Export Enterprise" for many years in a row, a map of shipping routes covering the entire wall behind the reception desk, marking maritime routes connecting Vinh Sa port with dozens of other seaports across Asia. There was nothing in this space that suggested any undercover operation — it all exuded professionalism and trustworthiness, the perfect cover that a twelve-year-old smuggling ring should have.

Vu Bach Long came to greet them right at the office door, not showing any surprise as Diem predicted. He wore a crisp white shirt, still holding a cup of coffee, his appearance so calm that it was almost cold.

"You're here sooner than I thought," he said, his voice even, inviting them inside with a polite hand gesture. "Come in, I'm always ready to cooperate with the authorities."

Diem watched him closely as he entered, trying to find any sign of real tension behind that calm facade—a wink that was too long, a finger tapping absentmindedly, anything. But Vu Bach Long, unlike Ta Bach Son, seemed to have mentally prepared for this moment for a long time, long enough to no longer reveal any flaws on his face.

"We have a search warrant for container number TXHU seven seven three zero zero two," Hai said, showing him the official document. "At the same time, we need your cooperation in answering some questions related to the company's recent business activities."

Vu Bach Long glanced at the document, nodded, and put the coffee cup on the table. "That container contains a shipment of legal exported ceramics, complete with documents. Please feel free to check, I have nothing to hide."

"So you don't object to us opening the seal for direct inspection?" Diem asked, speaking for the first time.

He looked at her, his eyes revealing something unpredictable for the first time - not really worry, but more like assessment, considering who the opponent in front of him was. "You are Hoang Thuc Diem, right? I heard your name through a few colleagues in the customs industry. A student of the late Associate Professor Luong Viet Trac."

The whole room seemed to pause for a moment. Diem kept a calm expression, even though her heart was pounding. Two economic police colleagues stood close to the door, their eyes never leaving Vu Bach Long's every move, while Hai stood half a step back, letting Diem proactively lead the conversation - a calculated concession, because they both understood that if anyone was qualified to face this man directly, it would be her.

"You know my teacher?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

"I used to work at this port when I was very young," he replied, not dodging the question, his voice still maintaining an intimidating calmness. "Many years ago, there was an unfortunate incident, a researcher died in an accident right in this area. I remember that incident, because I was also on duty that night."

He told the truth so nakedly and frankly that it startled Diem — not the confession of a cornered person, but a proactive move, revealing part of the truth to control how the story was told.

"You were present near the area where my teacher died that night," Diem said, not showing any emotion, "but your timesheet lacks the exact shift time."

"Yes," he admitted, without hesitation. "I left my shift early that night because of urgent family matters, forgetting to write down the correct time in my haste — an oversight I have regretted for many years, as it caused me to become an underlined name in the investigation file, even though I had absolutely nothing to do with that unfortunate death."

"Did you see my teacher that night?"

Vu Bach Long was silent for a moment, his eyes looking straight at Diem, not avoiding or wavering. "Yes," he said finally, his voice slow. "I saw him enter area number 4, alone, carrying a flashlight. I intended to go out and ask questions because that area was temporarily closed for maintenance, so strangers should not enter without permission. But I had urgent business and had to leave at that moment, so I didn't have time to meet him. That was the last time I saw him alive."

Diem clenched her hands tightly, feeling both like she was partially confirming the truth and like she was being led into a carefully prepared story, with no way to distinguish between what was the truth and what was testimony that had been honed over twelve years so that there would never be any gaps.

She remembered what Elena Marchetti had said over video call: lines that existed long enough learned to protect themselves very well. Vu Bach Long, standing in front of her right now, was the most vivid embodiment of that warning - not denying it like an amateur, but admitting part of the truth, just enough to appear transparent, while skillfully steering the entire story towards the "unfortunate accident", without revealing any details that could become incriminating evidence.

"Do you know anyone else who might have seen him after you left?" she continued asking, trying to maintain a professional investigative tone even though her heart was churning.

"No," Vu Bach Long replied, "but if you ask me, I think in that area at night, with wet concrete and poor lighting, a person unfamiliar with the terrain could completely slip and fall without anyone's intervention." He paused, then added, his voice still chillingly calm. "I understand you want to find another explanation for the death of your teacher, Ms. Diem. But sometimes, the truth is simply an unfortunate accident, with no conspiracy behind it at all."

Hai, standing next to Diem, interjected before the conversation went too far from the main purpose of the search. "We will leave the investigation of the incident twelve years ago to the official procedures. Now, I need to invite you down to the container yard with us, to witness the proper opening of the seal."

Vu Bach Long nodded, stood up, put on a vest over his white shirt, still looking completely confident as if he was preparing to attend a normal business meeting, not facing the possibility that the entire empire he had built over twelve years was about to collapse.

"Okay," he said, walking out the front door and leading the way down to the container yard. Before leaving the office, he stopped for a second, turned to Diem, his cold eyes flashed for a split second and then disappeared immediately after. "I hope you'll be satisfied with what you find in that container, Miss Diem. Although I suspect it won't be what you're expecting."

Diem followed him down the stairs, those words echoing in her head the whole way. It wasn't a direct threat, nor really a challenge. It sounded like a warning, almost strangely kind, from a man who seemed to have anticipated her every move long before she even got to this point.

She glanced at Hai, who was also frowning thinking about that statement. "What do you think he's warning about?"

"There are two possibilities," Hai replied, his voice low, his steps still keeping a steady rhythm following the group of people heading to the container yard. "One, it was just a psychological blow, trying to sow doubt to distract you right before the most important moment. Two," he paused, his expression tense, "he already knew about our source, and this container really no longer contains what we're looking for."

Diem felt a cold run down her spine, not because of fear, but because that second possibility was entirely possible - if Vu Bach Long had suspected Ta Bach Son right after last night's call, he would have had enough time during the night to order the object to be moved to another location, leaving this container with only what was declared on the paperwork.

"We'll know now," she said, walking faster, her heart pounding as the group approached the container yard, where the seven-seven-three-zero-zero TXHU lay waiting, its seal still intact under the harsh afternoon sun.