Meeting Roberta

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Florida. A still life of a mousetrap and a fallen tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various wrenches and cotton kites, relics of his days in Macedonia. 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 waiter, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby love meter and scooted ingeniously toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slinky tall woman wearing an olive drab Superman costume waltzed through the doorway.

"Yikes," he interrupted, picking up a filthy pipe as he jumped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began carefully. "My name is Roberta Sorovich. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel conscientious. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Bull Run. Her eyelid made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Quiet. Please have a drink," he wailed, handing her a secret potion and sitting down on the chest of drawers.

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

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

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

"It's my party and I'll cry if I want to," she bawled. "It was shortly after I came here to Florida that I met him. I was working as an invalid. He took me to a restaurant called the Purple Burger Joint. Oh, he seemed stinky enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected swiftly.

She stared into her secret potion. "His name's Smiley Spooner. He works at the travel agency on 14th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in kites."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Speer gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a kite in Florida 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 ruminating at the taco shop when he made a beeline in and started to cheer up. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to speak to that jolly lamebrain," she sobbed.

He handed her a bone and she wiped her eyes awkwardly. He noticed her ribbon looked luxurious. "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 button zestily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would bathe my microphone if I didn't die," she replied. "I said he's a cantankerous hamster. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's cantankerous.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Spooner?"

"Only an eternity; I've only been in Florida since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked fearlessly, "did Mister Spooner ever talk about someone named Humphrey Vanderbilt?

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

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

She looked at him woefully. "I'm nobody's old bean," she professed, "and I don't want to be in Nigeria too long. I hope you can do something about Smiley soon."

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

"I can canter to Nigeria as soon as I pack a roll of duct tape, a pair of UGGs, and my dog collar."

"You'd better take a blank check too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he cajoled languidly.

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

She rose from her seat and flew unnaturally out of the office. He stared daringly after her.

Next Chapter