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I was about to respond when I heard someone burst into the room from behind me.
“Speak of the devil,” Daniel said, his thin lips quirking up.
Neil had entered the room. He was puffing, his face chalk white. His eyes darted from Daniel to me and back to Daniel again, a look of vexation and displeasure washing over him. “When did you get here?” Neil asked.
“That’s how you greet me? It has been a few months. It’s good to see you again.” Daniel extended his hand to Neil.
Neil accepted it. They exchanged a firm handshake.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise visit?” Neil asked.
“I had business in Sydney, and I decided to make an extended stopover in Auckland on my way back.”
“A last-minute decision?”
“You could say that.”
“I would have appreciated some notice.”
“You always make time to see me though, don’t you? We have much to discuss.”
Neil turned to me. “Cancel everything on my schedule for the rest of the day.”
I nodded, feeling overwhelmed by the exchange playing out between the two powerful men. The tension in the room was palpable.
“Green tea?” Neil asked Daniel.
“You know me well.”
“One green tea coming right up,” I said. “Anything for you, Neil?”
“My usual. And for the tea—use the box in the top of the cupboard.”
With that, Neil directed Daniel into his office and shut the door behind them, leaving me to ponder what had just occurred as I walked to the kitchen.
My impression was that Neil disliked Daniel, but Daniel seemed to take Neil’s ire in good humour. There was no boss-and-employee dynamic as far as I could tell. To me, they resembled siblings who knew each other well, who had good times and bad times in their long history and who often got on each other’s nerves.
In the kitchen, I looked for the box Neil told me about. Top of the cupboard—but which cupboard? There were several. I rummaged until I found an unopened box with Chinese writing on it at the back of the top cupboard. I pulled it out and examined the beautiful packaging. There was no English on it, but the leafy green imagery was enough to clue me in.
This must be what Neil meant.
I opened the box, then the packet within, and sure enough, the pungent, grassy aroma of green tea wafted out. A special tea that Daniel Ling likes… Maybe Neil keeps a supply in stock for situations just like this.
As the tea brewed, I went through Neil’s appointments on my work phone, cancelling them one by one. Apologies and explanations could wait until I was back at my desk.
I placed the hot drinks, plus a jug of chilled water and two glasses, on a tray and carried them to Neil’s office.
Neil and Daniel sat opposite each other on the couches. I caught a snatch of their conversation as I entered the room, my ears pricking at the word “Patterson” from Neil’s mouth. They stopped talking in my presence. Feeling like an intruder, I placed the drinks on the coffee table between them, then retreated, shutting the door behind me.
They must have been talking about Alex Patterson. His name triggered the memory of the fall and the picture of the crime scene in Neil’s file. I shivered.
Why are they talking about him?
I had an uneasy feeling, but I brushed it off.
At my desk, I sent apologetic notes to everyone affected by the cancelled appointments and rescheduled as much as I could. After that, with a lack of much else to do, I looked up information on Daniel Ling. The search results turned up a trove of pictures of him at extravagant events, as well as posed shots in business attire. A short biography said he was the son of the chairman of Zelthia and the heir to the business—one of the largest companies in the Asia-Pacific region. When his father passed away, he would take over as the new chairman, and since his father was terminally ill, that could be in a matter of weeks or months.
Next, I typed both Daniel Ling and Neil Kingston in. Only a few results popped up. A picture of Daniel and Neil looking suave at a glitzy party, and a news article from 2012 stating that Daniel was the head of finance at Zelthia, and Neil was second-in-command. Their ages were listed as thirty-four and thirty-one, respectively. That meant Neil would be forty or forty-one by now. I couldn’t help but ponder our thirteen-year age difference.
