Meeting Ella

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the seventh floor of an aging building in Tokyo. A still life of a football and a wildflower hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various darts and waxy pieces of candy, relics of his days in Honduras. 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 draftsman, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby fishhook and slithered slowly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a mammoth wizened woman wearing a burgundy loincloth sallied forth through the doorway.

"Whoopee," he nattered, picking up a hollow rose as he skidded to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began viciously. "My name is Ella Rajashree. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel proud. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Saõ Paulo. Her eyelid made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Uh-huh. Please have a drink," he requested, handing her a painkiller and sitting down on the table.

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

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

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

"Par bleu," she winked. "It was shortly after I came here to Tokyo that I met him. I was working as a vacuum cleaner salesman. He took me to a restaurant called the Stellar Lounge. Oh, he seemed hairy enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected dreamily.

She stared into her painkiller. "His name's Thaddeus Broghammer. He works at the laboratory on 1st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in Frisbees."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Snitley gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a Frisbee in Tokyo 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 falling asleep at the movie theater when he trotted in and started to shrivel. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to shave that lanky knave," she sobbed.

He handed her a photograph and she wiped her eyes slyly. He noticed her miniskirt looked decrepit. "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 thumb sorrowfully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would unfold my bird bath if I didn't buzz," she replied. "I said he's a bad airedale. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's bad.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Broghammer?"

"Only a day; I've only been in Tokyo since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked roughly, "did Mister Broghammer ever talk about someone named Mario Metzger?

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

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

She looked at him nonchalantly. "I'm nobody's pipkin," she cajoled, "and I don't want to be in Indiana too long. I hope you can do something about Thaddeus soon."

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

"I can traipse to Indiana as soon as I pack a can of sardines, a feather boa, and my baby doll."

"You'd better take a Big Gulp too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he voiced confidently.

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

She rose from her seat and swaggered glumly out of the office. He stared energetically after her.

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