Hell's Kitchen was unusually quiet tonight. Alvin held the little girl in his arms and chased away her nightmares whenever she furrowed her brow.
A night without dreams! Of course—Alvin hadn't slept at all. For once, he didn't go running first thing in the morning. Instead, he bought breakfast from Uncle Cheng's stall outside and went back into the restaurant.
He helped the little princess, whom he'd accidentally woken, wash up, then roughly woke Nick and Frank.
When Frank woke up, he found his disabled son had stayed by his bedside all night. He felt so ashamed that he thumped himself on the head.
It was their first day reunited, and his eight-year-old son had to take care of him. Frank was deeply dissatisfied with himself. Though his son's care had helped his injuries heal considerably, he'd neglected his family too much in the past. He'd never realized that with family looking after him, even such serious injuries could heal so quickly!
Frank couldn't have been more satisfied with his son. The only thing he didn't like was Alvin's attitude. Who treated his son like that?
If I were in one of my bad moods, I'd have beaten you into a beehive by now. But his son loved it, constantly looking for trouble, only to get scolded in return.
Hell's Kitchen was a little strange today. Alvin drove his pickup truck to the school entrance for his usual watch. Frank stayed at the restaurant to sort out the rental arrangements.
Alvin thought the roads were unusually clear today. All the cars he passed moved aside as soon as they saw his ancient Ford pickup.
A trip that usually took thirty minutes took only fifteen today. Alvin felt rather pleased with himself. People around here are finally recognizing my contributions. I must be a local celebrity in Hell's Kitchen now.
Once he got out of the truck, Alvin realized something was wrong. Something had happened that he didn't know about. Everyone looked at him with awe.
The school's usual rebellious kids in outlandish outfits, both boys and girls, had vanished. Everyone was so meek and deferential that Community School looked like an Ivy League university.
Even Vice Principal Nelson, who usually stood at the school entrance, looked at Alvin with a mixture of awe, fear, and disbelief.
Impatiently, Alvin asked Nelson, "What the hell is going on? Have aliens invaded Earth?"
Nelson bowed respectfully and said obsequiously, "Good morning, Principal! Your great feat last night must have spread throughout Hell's Kitchen by now."
Alvin froze for a moment, then understood. Bloody Jensen's murder spree had been pinned on him after all. He considered explaining, but then decided against it. There was no point talking to a guy like Nelson.
His sudden fearsome reputation made work very easy for Alvin today.
Judging by the kids' behavior, their parents must have spent all morning yanking their ears and lecturing them!
From far away, Alvin spotted Professor Cage and heard him call out in his gravelly voice, "Alvin, how many people did you kill yesterday?"
Alvin was already dealing with enough trouble and didn't want to talk to the old rascal. He turned, jumped into his truck, and drove back to the restaurant as if escaping.
He got back early today, just in time to marinate the beef. Yesterday, he'd used what was left over from the day before.
He carried fifty kilograms of beef from the Cold Storage in the basement. He put it on several large trays and brought them to the dining room on the first floor to thaw naturally. Then he mixed black pepper and salt in several large bowls.
Ginny was enthusiastically helping Jessica. Clutching a little Cleaning Cloth, she followed Jessica around, doing whatever Jessica did. Alvin figured the restaurant would be twice as clean as usual today.
He praised Ginny and kissed her on the cheek. The little girl became even more enthusiastic about her work. She knocked over a few jars of seasoning, but there was no denying her diligence deserved praise.
The busy morning passed quickly, and Peace Hotel officially opened for business. As usual, many customers arrived right on time.
The only difference was that customers from Hell's Kitchen all came to greet Alvin respectfully, while those who'd come because of his reputation acted just as they always did.
Cooking fifty steaks didn't take Alvin much effort. The Sweet and Sour Ribs and Tomato-Braised Beef he'd promised Ginny yesterday took much longer.
When the two dishes were ready, many customers complained that no one had told them there'd be such delicious food. Of course, the complainers were all newcomers who'd come because of Alvin's reputation.
Alvin held Ginny as he sat on a Bar Stool behind the Bar Counter. Jessica, showing a distinct lack of professionalism, joined them. Each of them held a bowl of rice and slurped away happily.
When she'd eaten about half her meal, Jessica's sense of propriety as a young woman kicked in, and she decided not to get a third bowl. Alvin and Ginny happily carried on eating together.
Once Ginny had eaten her fill, Alvin refused her third helping of rice. He kissed her sulky little face and poked her round tummy, making her laugh again, then gathered up the bowls and chopsticks.
It was a little after one o'clock. Usually, no more customers came in at this hour, but today three uniformed police officers arrived with a middle-aged man in a suit who looked upright and earnest.
Alvin knew two of the officers, Michael and Scott. They were the first to greet him, and the enthusiastic Scott even came over to high-five and fist-bump him. The other policewoman frowned at the sight.
The earnest-looking middle-aged man was quite relaxed. He sat naturally at the Bar Counter and smiled at Alvin. "Hello, Mr. Alvin. I've heard your steaks are excellent. I've wanted to try them for ages, but never had the chance. I wonder if I might be lucky enough to try one today?"
When he saw Alvin frown at him, the man continued, "Oh, I haven't introduced myself. I'm George Stacy, Police Commissioner of New York City." He held out his hand to Alvin.
Alvin shook his hand and apologized. "You'll have to wait until tonight. We've already sold out of today's lunch servings."
George was easygoing and didn't mind. "What a shame! Could I at least get a glass of water?"
"Of course." Alvin gestured for Jessica to serve the commissioner and his party some lemonade.
The policewoman leaned against the Bar Counter, propped up her left elbow, and tapped her fingers on the counter to beckon Alvin closer. "Can't you make an exception?"
Alvin ignored her rudeness and turned to Michael and Scott instead.
Michael gave an awkward smile and explained, "This is Officer Misty Knight, the new chief of the Hell's Kitchen precinct." Then he stepped aside, clearly not fond of his new boss.
Alvin smiled knowingly. "I should congratulate the Hell's Kitchen Police Station on getting a new chief."
Looking at Misty, he added, "Did they replace your front door too? The previous chiefs had a pretty rough time of it."
Misty was clearly hot-tempered. She slammed her right hand down on the Bar Counter. It crashed loudly. Her steel arm had dented the heavy solid-wood counter.
No one in the restaurant left. Most of the newcomers had already gone, and the rest were Hell's Kitchen locals who knew a little about the situation. They watched Alvin excitedly, wondering how he'd handle things.
Alvin eyed Misty's finely crafted Mechanical Hand with interest. "Officer Knight, give me the number of the company that made your hand, and I'll forgive you for damaging my Bar Counter."
Misty glared at Alvin. "Alvin Ye, we suspect you're connected to yesterday's massacre on Long Island. You're a suspect and need to cooperate with our investigation."
Alvin looked past Misty at Michael and Scott, who stood behind her with their heads down. He could tell the two of them had set her up. But who cared?
You couldn't use someone else setting you up as an excuse for being an idiot.
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