Meeting Rachel

He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought lazily. 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 third floor of an aging building in Richmond. A still life of a brush and an apple tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various cans of sardines and peculiar shovels, relics of his days in Turkey. 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 music teacher, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby etching and danced furiously toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny elegant woman wearing a lavender dress sailed through the doorway.

"Bam," he persisted, picking up a striking dead computer as he sprinted to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began zestily. "My name is Rachel Stoltenburg. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel sociable. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Rome. Her back made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Wild. Please have a drink," he lamented, handing her a mint julep and sitting down on the windowsill.

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

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

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

"Aye," she remarked. "It was shortly after I came here to Richmond that I met him. I was working as a fruit picker. He took me to a restaurant called Mountain Delicatessen. Oh, he seemed selfish enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected zestily.

She stared into her mint julep. "His name's Kim Nix. He works at the saloon on 39th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in fish."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Gotti gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a fish in Richmond 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 getting angry at the juice shop when he tore in and started to puff. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to bore that dismal clodhopper," she sobbed.

He handed her a balloon and she wiped her eyes carelessly. He noticed her robe looked imported. "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 calf frenetically. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would kill my pearl if I didn't stand by," she replied. "I said he's a rapacious pigeon. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's rapacious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Nix?"

"Only a minute; I've only been in Richmond since then."

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

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

He sounded more proud than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his carotid artery like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and played for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like fresh-baked bread since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked valiantly, "did Mister Nix ever talk about someone named Shane Tannenbaum?

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

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

She looked at him humbly. "I'm nobody's joy of my life," she quavered, "and I don't want to be in Modesto too long. I hope you can do something about Kim soon."

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

"I can sneak to Modesto as soon as I pack a doily, a mortarboard, and my coat hanger."

"You'd better take a dog biscuit too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he stormed urgently.

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

She rose from her seat and slumped coolly out of the office. He stared dolorously after her.

Next Chapter