Meeting Ginger

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Kiev. A still life of a pepper grinder and a bird's nest hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various duffel bags and ruined flutes, relics of his days in Peru. 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 housekeeper, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby hammer and skittered temperamentally toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slight frizzle-headed woman wearing a rose diamond bracelet lurched through the doorway.

"Whee," he uttered, picking up a smelly diamond as he inched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began dreamily. "My name is Ginger Myers. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel smart. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Abilene. Her stomach made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Optimum. Please have a drink," he blustered, handing her an Irish Coffee and sitting down on the pedestal.

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

"This is difficult for me," she hinted, glancing at the pair of ear muffs he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

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

"Not so fast," she worried. "It was shortly after I came here to Kiev that I met him. I was working as an advice columnist. He took me to a restaurant called Chinatown Den. Oh, he seemed crafty enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected sheepishly.

She stared into her Irish Coffee. "His name's Edward Bonner. He works at the bike shop on 1st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in peanuts."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Sweeney gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a peanut in Kiev 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 spitting at the tattoo parlor when he trotted in and started to flail. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to scream at that shiftless ne'er-do-well," she sobbed.

He handed her a coin and she wiped her eyes curiously. He noticed her toupee looked slimy. "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 hip bitterly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would grind my stopwatch if I didn't buzz," she replied. "I said he's a humble Pekingese. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's humble.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Bonner?"

"Only an hour; I've only been in Kiev 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 Edward Bonner is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."

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

"Tell me," he asked merrily, "did Mister Bonner ever talk about someone named Humphrey Rossi?

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

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

She looked at him happily. "I'm nobody's old friend," she railed, "and I don't want to be in Lesotho too long. I hope you can do something about Edward soon."

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

"I can set out to Lesotho as soon as I pack a Rubik's cube, a gorilla suit, and my bag of groceries."

"You'd better take a brush too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he inquired awkwardly.

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

She rose from her seat and tumbled impatiently out of the office. He stared defiantly after her.

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