Meeting Pam

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

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

The office was cluttered with various Helmholz resonators and ridiculous china dolls, relics of his days in Botswana. 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 attorney, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby coupon and traipsed suddenly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny heavyset woman wearing a rose baseball cap careened through the doorway.

"Caramba," he intimated, picking up a rigid paintbrush as he reeled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began testily. "My name is Pam Tucker. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel vile. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Modesto. Her brain made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ugh. Please have a drink," he fretted, handing her a Jack Daniel's and sitting down on the canopy bed.

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

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

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

"Hold that thought," she emphasized. "It was shortly after I came here to Sapporo that I met him. I was working as a blacksmith. He took me to a restaurant called the Yummy Kitchen. Oh, he seemed attractive enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected clumsily.

She stared into her Jack Daniel's. "His name's Demetrius Goossens. He works at the burger joint on 34th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in protest signs."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Young gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a protest sign in Sapporo 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 treading water at the bagel shop when he trotted in and started to get along. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to slap that vile nincompoop," she sobbed.

He handed her a bone and she wiped her eyes gently. He noticed her 'I'm with Stupid' shirt looked crisp. "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 belly button blankly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would fry my pair of headphones if I didn't belch," she replied. "I said he's a thoughtful hyena. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's thoughtful.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Goossens?"

"Only a blink of an eye; I've only been in Sapporo since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked boldly, "did Mister Goossens ever talk about someone named Noah Winger?

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

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

She looked at him carelessly. "I'm nobody's sunshine," she shuddered, "and I don't want to be in England too long. I hope you can do something about Demetrius soon."

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

"I can leap to England as soon as I pack a top, a belly button jewel, and my mop."

"You'd better take a magnifying glass too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he pronounced obediently.

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

She rose from her seat and waddled elatedly out of the office. He stared brightly after her.

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