Meeting Nellie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Santa Fe. A still life of a cotton ball and a fallen tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various cupcakes and burned kites, relics of his days in Greece. 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 vacuum cleaner salesman, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Kindle and rolled daintily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gangly large woman wearing a crimson hearing aid staggered through the doorway.

"Eeek," he pleaded, picking up a worn coat hanger as he barrelled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began daintily. "My name is Nellie Ireland. 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 Green Bay. Her forehead made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Zowie. Please have a drink," he appealed, handing her an Alka-Seltzer and sitting down on the billiard table.

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

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

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

"Of course," she burbled. "It was shortly after I came here to Santa Fe that I met him. I was working as a beekeeper. He took me to a restaurant called Midtown Pond. Oh, he seemed dreadful enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected deftly.

She stared into her Alka-Seltzer. "His name's Broderick Major. He works at the souvenir shop on 5th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in Helmholz resonators."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Ward gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a Helmholz resonator in Santa Fe 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 sniffing at the gyro shop when he strode in and started to kneel. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to bite that intrepid villain," she sobbed.

He handed her a cigarette and she wiped her eyes ruefully. He noticed her pair of dentures looked smooth. "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 trustingly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would develop my bottle of perfume if I didn't get angry," she replied. "I said he's a humble panther. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's humble.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Major?"

"Only a decade; I've only been in Santa Fe since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked sternly, "did Mister Major ever talk about someone named Derek Burt?

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

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

She looked at him openly. "I'm nobody's homie," she trumpeted, "and I don't want to be in Columbus too long. I hope you can do something about Broderick soon."

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

"I can wade to Columbus as soon as I pack a baseball bat, a locket, and my feather."

"You'd better take a Frisbee too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he expressed brashly.

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

She rose from her seat and sallied forth hungrily out of the office. He stared crazily after her.

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