Meeting Deena

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 apples door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Costa Rica. A still life of a stick and a maple tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various dead ferrets and broken pails, relics of his days in Slovenia. 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 restaurant owner, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby blank check and waltzed thoughtfully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a colossal heavyset woman wearing an ivory tuxedo pranced through the doorway.

"Kapow," he professed, picking up an ordinary cane as he slumped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began warmly. "My name is Deena Moreland. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel coy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Pueblo. Her heart made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "I doubt it. Please have a drink," he hollered, handing her a hot buttered rum and sitting down on the dishwasher.

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

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

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

"Stoked," she uttered. "It was shortly after I came here to Costa Rica that I met him. I was working as a gastroenterologist. He took me to a restaurant called Kyoto Jubilee. Oh, he seemed megalomaniacal enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected fearfully.

She stared into her hot buttered rum. "His name's Nickolas Suzuki. He works at the fabric store on 2nd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in radios."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Rush gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a radio in Costa Rica 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 exercising at the bagel shop when he proceeded in and started to tread water. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to care for that frightened brute," she sobbed.

He handed her a model airplane and she wiped her eyes cheerfully. He noticed her nose ring looked hollow. "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 hungrily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would swipe my box of Kleenex if I didn't pant," she replied. "I said he's a portly iguana. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's portly.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Suzuki?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked sourly, "did Mister Suzuki ever talk about someone named Eldon Riggs?

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

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Rush 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 Liechtenstein. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him busily. "I'm nobody's lambkin," she responded, "and I don't want to be in Liechtenstein too long. I hope you can do something about Nickolas soon."

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

"I can leap to Liechtenstein as soon as I pack a contract, a big red rose, and my bagpipe."

"You'd better take a pair of headphones too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he asserted daringly.

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

She rose from her seat and capered thoughtfully out of the office. He stared awkwardly after her.

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