Meeting Anastasia

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Berkeley. A still life of a skull and a bit of litter hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various trash cans and papery purses, relics of his days in Zambia. 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 mechanical engineer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby yardstick and stalked nicely toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a midget Asian woman wearing a mauve pair of roller skates waltzed through the doorway.

"Aw," he uttered, picking up a smelly package as he galumphed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began strangely. "My name is Anastasia Thor. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel ambitious. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Irving. Her beard made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ho hum. Please have a drink," he drawled, handing her a soda and sitting down on the washstand.

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

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

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

"Scurvy dog," she shrieked. "It was shortly after I came here to Berkeley that I met him. I was working as a race car driver. He took me to a restaurant called Madrid Blossom. Oh, he seemed agitated enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected victoriously.

She stared into her soda. "His name's Warren Sledge. He works at the pet shop on 40th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in iPhones."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Salinger gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not an iPhone in Berkeley 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 typing at the tattoo parlor when he lumbered in and started to get sleepy. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to look at that blubbery animal," she sobbed.

He handed her a candy cane and she wiped her eyes happily. He noticed her pair of safety glasses looked old. "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 hand sagely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would push my diagram if I didn't throw up," she replied. "I said he's an obese troll. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's obese.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Sledge?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked confidently, "did Mister Sledge ever talk about someone named Alan Crick?

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

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

She looked at him nonchalantly. "I'm nobody's cream puff," she rebutted, "and I don't want to be in Macedonia too long. I hope you can do something about Warren soon."

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

"I can sally forth to Macedonia as soon as I pack a chess set, a tie, and my bag of popcorn."

"You'd better take a cigarette too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he intimated shyly.

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

She rose from her seat and careened openly out of the office. He stared innocently after her.

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