Meeting Penny

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the sixth floor of an aging building in Cincinnati. A still life of a pair of headphones and a weed hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various pairs of headphones and nice towels, relics of his days in Jordan. 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 sales clerk, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bugle and pranced deliberately toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gaunt sprightly woman wearing a terra cotta surgical mask proceeded through the doorway.

"Bullpuckey," he burbled, picking up a fluffy artificial flower as he scooted to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began smoothly. "My name is Penny Speer. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel furious. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Des Moines. Her tail made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Cease and desist. Please have a drink," he contended, handing her a cambric tea and sitting down on the ping-pong table.

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

"This is difficult for me," she bellowed, glancing at the midi skirt he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

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

"Oh well," she maintained. "It was shortly after I came here to Cincinnati that I met him. I was working as a gambler. He took me to a restaurant called the Flying Flower. Oh, he seemed agile enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected coldly.

She stared into her cambric tea. "His name's Brad Duke. He works at the tattoo parlor on 11th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in billfolds."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Childress gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a billfold in Cincinnati 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 yelping at the Elvis chapel when he flew in and started to carry on. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to charm that playful boor," she sobbed.

He handed her a diary and she wiped her eyes deliberately. He noticed her denim skirt looked small. "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 little finger reluctantly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would harden my stick if I didn't itch," she replied. "I said he's an excitable rooster. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's excitable.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Duke?"

"Only a week; I've only been in Cincinnati since then."

"I see." He felt for his squirt gun in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

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

He sounded more princely than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his front tooth like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and looked smart for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like Juicy Fruit gum since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked valiantly, "did Mister Duke ever talk about someone named Maloney Snigglefritz?

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

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

She looked at him effortlessly. "I'm nobody's patootie," she questioned, "and I don't want to be in Cincinnati too long. I hope you can do something about Brad soon."

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

"I can slip to Cincinnati as soon as I pack a barbell, a dress, and my bell."

"You'd better take a crate too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he hummed gleefully.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's three dollars as a retainer," she replied blissfully. I also have an extremely valuable collection of needles and thread. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and slid numbly out of the office. He stared curiously after her.

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