Chapter 5: The Knife in Another Man's Hand
The line landed on
the one thing Phong had been trying not to think about.
His jaw tightened.
"This is not
over. Do not congratulate yourself yet."
"I am not
congratulating myself."
Khai turned back.
His eyes had gone dark and cold.
"I had
something more important to do tonight. You are the reason it was left
unfinished."
"A seal
ceremony at Hai Long matters that much?"
"Not to you.
To the people in this house, yes."
"A seal does
not turn a crime into a lawful act."
"A warrant
does not turn a lie into the truth."
The air in the
room went taut.
Phong was about to
answer when a woman's voice came from the doorway.
"Khai."
Bach Lan stood in
the middle of the corridor.
She still wore the
dark ao dai from the ceremony. Her hair was pinned back without a single strand
out of place.
The smell of the
ancestral room had followed her down the corridor, sweet and cold, the way
incense clings to cloth.
The estate had
been torn through for over an hour, and her face was still calm. The calm was
the unsettling part.
Only her hand on
the head of her wooden cane had closed tighter than before.
"Let them
work."
She spoke to Khai,
but her eyes stayed on Phong.
"The Vu
family has lived here for decades. We have never once been afraid of being
searched."
Khai gave a thin
smile.
"Not afraid,
and yet you had every door locked from this afternoon?"
"I locked the
doors to keep in the person who needed keeping. Not to hide goods."
Phong caught it
immediately.
"Who were you
keeping?"
Bach Lan did not
answer. She studied him for a moment, then spoke slowly.
"You have his
eyes."
Phong frowned.
"Whose?"
"The eyes of
a man who has never once doubted he is standing on the right side."
"I asked who
you were keeping in this house."
"Everyone who
came in or went out of this estate tonight has been checked by your men. If
someone were being held here against their will, you would have found them by
now."
"You have not
answered my question."
"I am under
no obligation to answer questions that fall outside your warrant."
It was a short
answer, delivered without any lift in her voice, and every word cut like a thin
blade.
Phong took a step
forward.
"The tip knew
the exact hour of the ceremony. It knew how your guards were positioned.
Whoever sent it understands the inside of this estate. If we find no goods,
there are only two explanations. Either the tip was false, or you moved them in
time."
Bach Lan looked at
him, one corner of her mouth lifting.
"There is a
third."
"Which
is?"
"The person
who sent it wanted to use your hands to wreck the ceremony."
Phong said
nothing.
"You believe
that walking in here armed makes you the hunter," Bach Lan continued.
"It may be that in the eyes of the man who sent that message, you are only
the knife he is holding."
Khai turned to
look at his mother.
Something cold
went down Phong's spine.
It was the same
thought that had taken root in him the moment the first hiding place turned up
empty.
An officer hurried
over and cut across the exchange.
"Reporting,
sir. The main house is complete. No evidence recovered."
"The
outbuildings?"
"Just
reported in. Nothing."
"The record
of everyone in and out over the last three hours?"
"Cross-checked
against the gate cameras. From five this afternoon until we arrived, no cargo
vehicle left the estate. Only guest cars for the ceremony. We opened the
trunks. Nothing."
"Any blind
spots on the cameras?"
"There is a
path at the rear leading down to the embankment, but the side gate is locked
from the inside. Old padlock, no sign of recent use."
Khai folded his
arms.
"Do you want
to dig up the garden as well?"
Phong turned on
him.
"If I have
to, I will."
"Then you
will need another warrant," Khai answered at once. "And with the
paper you are holding tonight, you have already gone beyond your scope in two
rooms. Put that in the report too."
Phong stared at
him.
Khai did not look
away.
In that moment the
man in front of him did not look like someone whose succession had just been
broken up by police. He looked like someone who had known from the start that
the search would come up empty.
But if Khai truly
had known, the shock on his face when the team came through the doors should
have looked like a performance.
It had not.
Phong had watched
enough suspects to recognize a performance. A man who is prepared either
overplays it or stays far too calm.
Khai had not been
watching the search team at all.
He had been
watching Bach Lan.
A firm, unhurried
step sounded at the head of the corridor.
Tran Duc Minh was
coming.
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