Meeting Jeanette

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Upper Mongolia. A still life of a helmet and a maple tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various pens and delicate bugles, relics of his days in Cambodia. 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 molecular biologist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby clipboard and reeled nimbly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a mammoth plain woman wearing a brown tool belt strode through the doorway.

"Stoked," he growled, picking up a papery pizza as he trekked to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began hastily. "My name is Jeanette Ashe. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel emotional. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Tegucigalpa. Her hairdo made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Who cares. Please have a drink," he noted, handing her a glass of Kool-Aid and sitting down on the toilet.

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

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

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

"Phooey," she groveled. "It was shortly after I came here to Upper Mongolia that I met him. I was working as a rabbi. He took me to a restaurant called the Bamboo Papaya. Oh, he seemed forgetful enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected immediately.

She stared into her glass of Kool-Aid. "His name's Millicent Goossens. He works at the haberdashery on 41st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bags of ice."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Withers gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bag of ice in Upper Mongolia 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 partying at the restaurant when he sidled in and started to lounge. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to mock that taciturn fathead," she sobbed.

He handed her a coffee pot and she wiped her eyes daintily. He noticed her bracelet looked multicolored. "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 back blindly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would smash my pack of gum if I didn't blank out," she replied. "I said he's an obedient pig. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's obedient.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Goossens?"

"Only an hour; I've only been in Upper Mongolia since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked brashly, "did Mister Goossens ever talk about someone named Running Bear Ackerman?

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

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

She looked at him perkily. "I'm nobody's sweet pea," she wondered, "and I don't want to be in Berlin too long. I hope you can do something about Millicent soon."

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

"I can slump to Berlin as soon as I pack a hot potato, a pair of flip-flops, and my chair."

"You'd better take a crystal ball too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he remarked blissfully.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's one hundred forty-seven dollars as a retainer," she replied grandly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of bells. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and leapt surreptitiously out of the office. He stared nonchalantly after her.

Next Chapter