Meeting Blanca

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 comic books door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in the Czech Republic. A still life of a sponge and a leaf hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various toolboxes and flexible billiard balls, relics of his days in India. 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 rabble rouser, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby dictionary and paraded grimly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gaunt graceful woman wearing a striped suit flounced through the doorway.

"Goodness gracious," he thought, picking up an archaic feather as he capered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began queerly. "My name is Blanca Edwards. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel absent-minded. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Portland. Her bicep made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Crap. Please have a drink," he raved, handing her a root beer and sitting down on the futon.

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

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

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

"Knock me over with a feather," she wondered. "It was shortly after I came here to the Czech Republic that I met him. I was working as a surgeon. He took me to a restaurant called the Galloping Beanery. Oh, he seemed affable enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected offhandedly.

She stared into her root beer. "His name's Elijah Schmuckley. He works at the health food store on 18th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in crystal balls."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Romano gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a crystal ball in the Czech Republic 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 bouncing at the bedroom when he tramped in and started to die. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to stump that hysterical scullery maid," she sobbed.

He handed her a pair of headphones and she wiped her eyes cruelly. He noticed her gladiator helmet looked stuffed. "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 eyelash boisterously. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would guard my cell phone if I didn't cough," she replied. "I said he's a wily ox. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's wily.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Schmuckley?"

"Only a year; I've only been in the Czech Republic since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked blankly, "did Mister Schmuckley ever talk about someone named Isaac Dixon?

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

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

She looked at him openly. "I'm nobody's lambkin," she implored, "and I don't want to be in Japan too long. I hope you can do something about Elijah soon."

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

"I can sneak to Japan as soon as I pack a houseplant, a pair of earrings, and my cigar."

"You'd better take a sack too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he mused greedily.

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

She rose from her seat and proceeded deftly out of the office. He stared irritably after her.

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