Chapter 3
==
Chilled through his newly-pressed grey suit, Gui Zhang strolled in from the bitter cold to the relative oasis of the harbour lounge, its dim lights now welcoming and radiating warmth. As he reached the counter and opened his mouth to order some hot food, a rough, irritating voice called him from behind. Gui Zhang tried pretending not to hear, but it didn't work.
"Gui Zhang. Gui Zhang."
The voice had now arrived at his shoulder and remaining oblivious was out of the question.
"Hello, Gui Zhang," muttered the Alpha Trading boss shortly, glancing around the room behind them, with it's tables mostly occupied underneath a swathe of unfiltered steam from the cookers. He was a gruff, grey-bearded man of about 50 and a good deal shorter than Gui Zhang. When in conversation, he seemed to possess a habitual routine of scratching his head in short bursts.
"What's the problem?" replied Gui Zhang. His eye was fixed upon a brightly- coloured cherry cake as he paid for the food.
"Well, you see..." began the Alpha Trading boss, temporarily forgetting his half-finished omlette as he followed Gui Zhang's slim frame to an empty table at the corner of the lounge. Gui Zhang sat down quietly and folded a napkin into his shirt collar, brushed a dark lock of hair from his eye and set about eating his food. Seating himself opposite, the boss ran a hand through his beard hesitantly, as if searching for the appropriate words to say. He fixed his eyes upon a framed black and white photograph that adorned the adjoining wall, staring in falsified interest at it's reflective surface.
"It's about the young man, Ryo..."
Gui Zhang glanced up from his food, his eyes locking with the older man's.
"It seems he's.. not turned up to work today. Lately he's been.. inattentive, to say the least. When he's not getting into fights, he works as if something is troubling him. He's a good worker, but he's not.. He isn't making the most.."
The Alpha Trading manager was thoroughly making a mess of what he had intended to say.
"What I'm trying to say is, ah.. this is his first actual absence, and I thought he might be with you."
Placing his knife and fork neatly over each other and with a fleeting touch of the napkin, Gui Zhang folded his hands and for the first time devoted his full attention to the harbour worker, a man whom Gui Zhang, steeped proudly in his own discipline and father's heritage, could usually not help but radiate a slight indifference to. Now, however, the circumstances required his total concentration. A quizzical expression washed over his face.
"With me?" he asked, briefly.
"Yes," replied the boss, breaking the eye contact. "You see.. he was spotted coming into work, this morning. Two people saw him, one of them being my secretary, who gave him the keys."
The overhead strip-lights highlighted thick strands of Gui Zhang's black hair as he looked down at his coffee. Running a long finger gently around the cardboard rim of the cup, Gui Zhang lowered his voice and, his tone now sombre, asked:
"Did he start work?"
The boss's left hand moved slowly towards the bristly grey hair beneath his helmet, then wavered, refrained from scratching, and began to tap restlessly on the table.
"No. We found his forklift. It seems he drove it out.. found the crates.. and simply vanished. Walked out," the boss added.
"I doubt that," replied Gui Zhang as he placed the coffee to his lips, sipping cautiously. His dark eyes were gazing in the direction of the food- laden counter, the steam swirling lazily around the greasy metal vats. The noise of sizzling could be heard, but Gui Zhang was pensive. Lost in thought, he heard nothing, saw nothing.
The bearded man's face registered blatant confusion.
"I don't follow," he remarked.
"Tell me where you found his forklift." Gui Zhang made the demand politely.
"Around the back.."
"Back of where?"
"The harbour. Near the Angels sign. You know, those morons who go around bugging the workers, who-"
"Yes, I know," interrupted Gui Zhang. "Are you telling me you didn't search?"
"Search what?"
"Nearby!" rapped Gui Zhang, barely able to mask his incredulous tone. The boss gave no answer, and at that moment Gui Zhang realised that the situation was truly becoming quite serious. Taking only a moment to re- compose himself, he softly removed the unstained silk napkin from his collar and placed it, folded, into his blazer pocket. The Alpha Trading boss appeared to recover from whatever guilt he was experiencing fairly quickly, and was now staring longingly in the direction of his unfinished omlette, beckoning to him three tables away. Gui Zhang stood up carefully and checked his sleeves for creases.
"Leave the matter to me. I shall find the Mad Angels."
At the mention of the name, the harbour boss snapped immediately from his stupified gaze and turned swiftly to Gui Zhang, who had already left his seat. He was about to call for Gui Zhang again, inquire exactly what it was that he intended to do, but instead closed his lips with resignation. The Mad Angels? Not until this moment had he assumed for a minute their connection in this affair. It was, he decided, better not to be getting involved, for risk of jeopardizing his team of workers. His gaze followed the precise figure in the grey suit as it navigated the other tables and walked calmly towards the door.
Gui Zhang stepped outside.
The Alpha Trading boss returned to his omlette.
==
Chilled through his newly-pressed grey suit, Gui Zhang strolled in from the bitter cold to the relative oasis of the harbour lounge, its dim lights now welcoming and radiating warmth. As he reached the counter and opened his mouth to order some hot food, a rough, irritating voice called him from behind. Gui Zhang tried pretending not to hear, but it didn't work.
"Gui Zhang. Gui Zhang."
The voice had now arrived at his shoulder and remaining oblivious was out of the question.
"Hello, Gui Zhang," muttered the Alpha Trading boss shortly, glancing around the room behind them, with it's tables mostly occupied underneath a swathe of unfiltered steam from the cookers. He was a gruff, grey-bearded man of about 50 and a good deal shorter than Gui Zhang. When in conversation, he seemed to possess a habitual routine of scratching his head in short bursts.
"What's the problem?" replied Gui Zhang. His eye was fixed upon a brightly- coloured cherry cake as he paid for the food.
"Well, you see..." began the Alpha Trading boss, temporarily forgetting his half-finished omlette as he followed Gui Zhang's slim frame to an empty table at the corner of the lounge. Gui Zhang sat down quietly and folded a napkin into his shirt collar, brushed a dark lock of hair from his eye and set about eating his food. Seating himself opposite, the boss ran a hand through his beard hesitantly, as if searching for the appropriate words to say. He fixed his eyes upon a framed black and white photograph that adorned the adjoining wall, staring in falsified interest at it's reflective surface.
"It's about the young man, Ryo..."
Gui Zhang glanced up from his food, his eyes locking with the older man's.
"It seems he's.. not turned up to work today. Lately he's been.. inattentive, to say the least. When he's not getting into fights, he works as if something is troubling him. He's a good worker, but he's not.. He isn't making the most.."
The Alpha Trading manager was thoroughly making a mess of what he had intended to say.
"What I'm trying to say is, ah.. this is his first actual absence, and I thought he might be with you."
Placing his knife and fork neatly over each other and with a fleeting touch of the napkin, Gui Zhang folded his hands and for the first time devoted his full attention to the harbour worker, a man whom Gui Zhang, steeped proudly in his own discipline and father's heritage, could usually not help but radiate a slight indifference to. Now, however, the circumstances required his total concentration. A quizzical expression washed over his face.
"With me?" he asked, briefly.
"Yes," replied the boss, breaking the eye contact. "You see.. he was spotted coming into work, this morning. Two people saw him, one of them being my secretary, who gave him the keys."
The overhead strip-lights highlighted thick strands of Gui Zhang's black hair as he looked down at his coffee. Running a long finger gently around the cardboard rim of the cup, Gui Zhang lowered his voice and, his tone now sombre, asked:
"Did he start work?"
The boss's left hand moved slowly towards the bristly grey hair beneath his helmet, then wavered, refrained from scratching, and began to tap restlessly on the table.
"No. We found his forklift. It seems he drove it out.. found the crates.. and simply vanished. Walked out," the boss added.
"I doubt that," replied Gui Zhang as he placed the coffee to his lips, sipping cautiously. His dark eyes were gazing in the direction of the food- laden counter, the steam swirling lazily around the greasy metal vats. The noise of sizzling could be heard, but Gui Zhang was pensive. Lost in thought, he heard nothing, saw nothing.
The bearded man's face registered blatant confusion.
"I don't follow," he remarked.
"Tell me where you found his forklift." Gui Zhang made the demand politely.
"Around the back.."
"Back of where?"
"The harbour. Near the Angels sign. You know, those morons who go around bugging the workers, who-"
"Yes, I know," interrupted Gui Zhang. "Are you telling me you didn't search?"
"Search what?"
"Nearby!" rapped Gui Zhang, barely able to mask his incredulous tone. The boss gave no answer, and at that moment Gui Zhang realised that the situation was truly becoming quite serious. Taking only a moment to re- compose himself, he softly removed the unstained silk napkin from his collar and placed it, folded, into his blazer pocket. The Alpha Trading boss appeared to recover from whatever guilt he was experiencing fairly quickly, and was now staring longingly in the direction of his unfinished omlette, beckoning to him three tables away. Gui Zhang stood up carefully and checked his sleeves for creases.
"Leave the matter to me. I shall find the Mad Angels."
At the mention of the name, the harbour boss snapped immediately from his stupified gaze and turned swiftly to Gui Zhang, who had already left his seat. He was about to call for Gui Zhang again, inquire exactly what it was that he intended to do, but instead closed his lips with resignation. The Mad Angels? Not until this moment had he assumed for a minute their connection in this affair. It was, he decided, better not to be getting involved, for risk of jeopardizing his team of workers. His gaze followed the precise figure in the grey suit as it navigated the other tables and walked calmly towards the door.
Gui Zhang stepped outside.
The Alpha Trading boss returned to his omlette.