Meeting Kami

He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought breathlessly. If something didn't come along soon, he would find himself selling daisies door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Little Rock. A still life of a coupon and a spider web hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various dolls and plastic computers, relics of his days in Estonia. Not exactly his glory days, but these days hardly qualify either.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Enter," he yelled. Probably another creditor or judge, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby diamond and crawled hopefully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny frail woman wearing a polka dotted cloak waded through the doorway.

"Hell's bells," he spat, picking up a mechanical stamp as he inched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began gratefully. "My name is Kami Verma. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel conceited. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Boise. Her Adam's apple made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Lordy. Please have a drink," he begged, handing her a Tom and Jerry and sitting down on the ironing board.

"Make yourself comfortable. Now tell me all about it."

"This is difficult for me," she uttered, glancing at the pair of Crocs he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

"Don't give it another thought," he replied solemnly.

"Be still, my beating heart," she concluded. "It was shortly after I came here to Little Rock that I met him. I was working as a music teacher. He took me to a restaurant called Berlin Saloon. Oh, he seemed sincere enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected sarcastically.

She stared into her Tom and Jerry. "His name's Lucky Fosbender. He works at the Hallmark shop on 28th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in microphones."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Kaplan gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a microphone in Little Rock that hasn't passed through their hands."

"I don't know about that, but I wish I had never heard of the guy. "I was coughing at the health club when he galloped in and started to roll. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to dump that funny blockhead," she sobbed.

He handed her a tube of glue and she wiped her eyes obediently. He noticed her pair of earmuffs looked fluffy. "So what happened between the two of you?"

"When I found out what he was up to, I told him I wanted no part of it."

He rubbed his heart lazily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would hammer my cactus plant if I didn't raise an eyebrow," she replied. "I said he's a lazy dodo bird. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's lazy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Fosbender?"

"Only an eternity; I've only been in Little Rock since then."

"I see." He felt for his stash of bribe money in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

"Okay, so this Lucky Fosbender is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."

He sounded more artistic than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his horn like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and apologized for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like orange peel since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked gleefully, "did Mister Fosbender ever talk about someone named Jordan Collins?

She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a flinch.

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Kaplan operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, poopsy-woopsy, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice dugout in Slovenia. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him trustingly. "I'm nobody's poopsy-woopsy," she concluded, "and I don't want to be in Slovenia too long. I hope you can do something about Lucky soon."

"I'll do my best, queenie. How soon will you be ready to go?"

"I can caper to Slovenia as soon as I pack a football, a coat of mail, and my pizza."

"You'd better take a mop too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he suggested irritably.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's four hundred sixty-two dollars as a retainer," she replied steadily. I also have an extremely valuable collection of notebooks. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and paraded wildly out of the office. He stared violently after her.

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