Chapter 6: The Man Led by the Nose
Everyone present
moved aside without being asked. Tran Duc Minh wore no uniform, only a dark
jacket over his shirt, yet the bearing of a man long used to giving orders was
enough to settle the noise in the corridor.
He stopped beside
his son.
"Result?"
"No evidence
recovered."
"Have you
covered the full authorized scope?"
"Yes,
sir."
"Grounds to
extend it?"
Phong hesitated
half a beat.
"Not
enough."
Duc Minh looked at
the room with its floor torn up, then at Khai.
"The damage
will be recorded in full. Whatever falls to this team, we will not avoid
it."
Khai nodded
slightly.
"I would like
the report to record that my people cooperated."
"It
will."
Duc Minh turned
back to Phong.
"Have the men
finish the paperwork. Pull out."
"Father, a
tip that detailed cannot be entirely false."
Duc Minh's eyes
hardened.
He did not want to
hear that word from his son in front of subordinates while they were on duty.
Phong knew it. From his first days in the service he had been reminded again
and again that at work the two of them were a superior and a subordinate,
nothing more.
But the
frustration had pushed the word out before he could catch it.
"Outside,"
Duc Minh said.
Phong stood still
for a few seconds, then turned and walked out.
Father and son
went down the front steps of the main house. The rain had thinned to a fine
drizzle blowing sideways, and the wind coming off the bay carried salt in it.
The lights of the police vehicles washed the trees in red and blue, and the wet
trunks flared and darkened by turns.
Phong stopped at
the first car.
"I am
requesting that we hold several people for statements tonight."
"On what
grounds?"
"The tip
shows that someone inside knew."
"Knew what?
There is no contraband. The source is unidentified. Are you proposing to hold
people because they were standing inside their own house?"
"At the very
least, the man who tried to attack me should be taken in."
"He will be
handled separately. Do not lump the two together."
Phong turned
around.
"Don't you
see a problem with this search, Father?"
"I do."
"Then why
pull out?"
"Because a
problem does not entitle you to step past the line."
"We need a
few more hours. If the goods were moved tonight, there will still be
traces."
"You checked
the cameras, the vehicles, and every entrance. There is no basis to show the
goods were ever here."
"The tip knew
the exact hour of the ceremony!"
"That proves
the informant understands Hai Long's internal affairs. It does not prove the
estate is storing contraband."
Phong let out a
dry laugh.
"So we just
go home? And let them stand there watching an entire task force pull out like a
pack of men led around by the nose?"
Duc Minh looked
directly at his son.
"That's what
is actually eating at you."
Phong went rigid.
"Are you
angry because the operation failed, or because Vu Khai made you lose
face?"
"What's the
difference? He's using that report to make a public joke of us."
"He is within
his rights to have the damage recorded."
"You're
taking his side again?"
"I am
reminding you of the regulations."
"Regulations.
It's always regulations with you."
The words were out
before Phong knew he had gone too far.
He did not take
them back.
For 28 years, Tran
Duc Minh's shadow had never once left his head.
As a boy he had to
behave, because he was Director Tran's son. At school he could not fight,
because he was Director Tran's son.
Sitting the
entrance exams for the force, he had to score higher than everyone else, because
falling short by even a point would have someone saying he had ridden in on his
father's name.
By the time he put
on the uniform, he had to be twice as careful.
Never lose his
temper.
Never make a
mistake, never let feeling into the work.
Never give anyone
a reason to think his father was covering for him.
Even when he was
the one under suspicion, he had to stay quieter than anybody else.
Duc Minh lowered
his voice.
"Do you think
I enjoy watching my own task force come home empty-handed?"
Phong said nothing.
"The more
they provoke you, the clearer your head has to be. The person who sent that
message knew the hour of the ceremony. He knew how we would react. He may well
have predicted that you would fight to stay here at any cost. If you let your
pride do the steering, you will do exactly what he wants."
"You think I
have lost my composure?"
"I think you
have decided that Vu Khai is your personal opponent."
"He is Hai
Long's man."
"That is an
investigative assessment. It is not proof of a crime."
Phong looked past
his father at the lit windows of the house.
Khai was still
standing on the threshold, a tall figure motionless among people setting the
furniture back in place. He was not looking at them, and yet Phong had the
feeling that the man was hearing every word.
The thought made
his blood run hotter.
"I want to
question him one more time."
"No."
"Father—"
"Officer Tran
Minh Phong."
Duc Minh spoke his
full name and rank.
His voice was not
loud. It was cold, and it was final.
"Complete the
report. Withdraw the team. Everything else will be reported and verified
through proper channels."
Phong ground his
teeth.
"Understood."
He had taken two
steps when Duc Minh spoke behind him.
"Phong."
He stopped without
turning around.
"Failing once
does not make you a bad officer. But if you cross the line because you cannot
stomach failing, you will turn yourself into a man who no longer deserves that
uniform."
Phong stood in the
rain.
After a while he
answered.
"I
know."
In truth, he did
not know how flawlessly a man was supposed to live before he finally measured
up to his father.
Close to eleven
that night, the convoy pulled out of Hai Long Estate.
Phong rode in the
passenger seat of the lead car. In the side mirror he watched the iron gates
swing slowly shut behind them.
Just before the
two halves met, he saw Vu Khai standing inside.
Khai had already
turned his back on the convoy.
As though from
beginning to end, the raid had never been worth his attention.
Phong's hand closed
into a fist.
An hour later, the
light in the task force office was still burning.
The fluorescent
tubes overhead buzzed at a pitch nobody notices before midnight and nobody can
ignore after it.
The search report
lay open in the middle of the desk, thickening page by page with every item
that had to be listed. A mug of tea had gone cold at his elbow, skinned over
and forgotten. Beside it sat the scene photographs, the roster of everyone
present at the estate, and a printout of the anonymous tip.
Phong read it for
the fourth time.
Seven in the evening.
Hai Long Estate is holding a seal ceremony. The goods are in a wall cavity in
the west wing, brought in on the food delivery vehicle. If you arrive late, the
evidence will be gone.
The sender knew
the ceremony began at seven, and a great deal more besides.
But the food
vehicle had carried no contraband. The wall cavity had held nothing.
A tip that was
true in nine parts, and wrong in the one part that mattered.
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