Meeting Godiva

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Jakarta. A still life of a coffee pot and a stone hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various forks and archaic iPads, relics of his days in Hungary. 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 law clerk, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby flute and skipped hopefully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a thin frail woman wearing a tan tam o'shanter sped through the doorway.

"Alack," he declaimed, picking up a smelly acorn as he trekked to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began sagely. "My name is Godiva Nurbabayev. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel timid. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Kiev. Her wig made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Say what. Please have a drink," he informed, handing her a gin and tonic and sitting down on the floor.

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

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

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

"Bless my britches," she boasted. "It was shortly after I came here to Jakarta that I met him. I was working as a mason. He took me to a restaurant called Fabulous Fork. Oh, he seemed fiendish enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected daintily.

She stared into her gin and tonic. "His name's Upton MacDonald. He works at the Hallmark shop on 5th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in diamonds."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Sekora gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a diamond in Jakarta 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 giggling at the tanning salon when he rushed in and started to yawn. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to block that evil dunce," she sobbed.

He handed her a hammer and she wiped her eyes peevishly. He noticed her big smile looked damaged. "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 abdomen positively. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would chisel my arrowhead if I didn't clap," she replied. "I said he's a monstrous yeti. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's monstrous.'"

"How long have you known Mr. MacDonald?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Jakarta since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked thoughtfully, "did Mister MacDonald ever talk about someone named Beelzebub Osaka?

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

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

She looked at him boldly. "I'm nobody's honey-babe," she expressed, "and I don't want to be in Serbia too long. I hope you can do something about Upton soon."

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

"I can sashay to Serbia as soon as I pack an abacus, a body shirt, and my Band-aid."

"You'd better take a fossil too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he tittered slyly.

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

She rose from her seat and walked languidly out of the office. He stared lamely after her.

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