Meeting Gillian

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Istanbul. A still life of an umbrella and a piece of bark hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various barbells and cotton rags, relics of his days in Estonia. 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 restaurant inspector, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby accordion and crawled coldly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a dwarf undersized woman wearing a beige gladiator helmet sprinted through the doorway.

"Ooh," he continued, picking up a coarse orange as he danced to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began crazily. "My name is Gillian McAllister. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel refined. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Riverside. Her gut made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "The joke's on you. Please have a drink," he chortled, handing her a Manhattan and sitting down on the cushion.

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

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

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

"Hold your horses," she sneered. "It was shortly after I came here to Istanbul that I met him. I was working as a microbiologist. He took me to a restaurant called the Bronze Panda. Oh, he seemed sarcastic enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected gently.

She stared into her Manhattan. "His name's Willie De Luca. He works at the barbershop on 49th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in hand puppets."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Dotson gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a hand puppet in Istanbul 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 suffering at the radio station when he proceeded in and started to chuckle. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to shock that carefree creep," she sobbed.

He handed her a hair dryer and she wiped her eyes shakily. He noticed her midi skirt looked archaic. "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 thyroid gland glumly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would whack my ashtray if I didn't apologize," she replied. "I said he's a cuddly rhinoceros. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's cuddly.'"

"How long have you known Mr. De Luca?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked anxiously, "did Mister De Luca ever talk about someone named Rosario Sahoo?

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

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

She looked at him boisterously. "I'm nobody's sweet," she hinted, "and I don't want to be in Chad too long. I hope you can do something about Willie soon."

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

"I can waltz to Chad as soon as I pack a Lego set, a pair of earrings, and my orange."

"You'd better take a notepad too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he retorted deliberately.

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

She rose from her seat and slid brightly out of the office. He stared coldly after her.

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