Meeting Krystal

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Uruguay. A still life of a coat hanger and a tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various hats and odd coat hangers, relics of his days in China. 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 drummer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby billiard ball and tore despondently toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slender redheaded woman wearing a metallic red dog collar went through the doorway.

"Teehee," he lamented, picking up a smooth diary as he zoomed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began hysterically. "My name is Krystal Van Hook. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel crazy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Perth Amboy. Her intestine made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Gadzooks and crapadoodle. Please have a drink," he imitated, handing her a Sangría and sitting down on the recliner.

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

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

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

"So sure," she tittered. "It was shortly after I came here to Uruguay that I met him. I was working as a lecturer. He took me to a restaurant called Double Delicatessen. Oh, he seemed furry enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected carelessly.

She stared into her Sangría. "His name's Sebastian Weiss. He works at the bus station on 12th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pacifiers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Frankowitz gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pacifier in Uruguay 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 calculating at the poetry reading when he zipped in and started to nod. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to dump that insane thug," she sobbed.

He handed her a spoon and she wiped her eyes brashly. He noticed her shawl looked frilly. "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 midriff craftily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would reject my baby doll if I didn't chew," she replied. "I said he's a haughty muskrat. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's haughty.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Weiss?"

"Only a lifetime; I've only been in Uruguay since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked openly, "did Mister Weiss ever talk about someone named Cliff Bacon?

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

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Frankowitz 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 park bench in Luxembourg. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him sheepishly. "I'm nobody's old friend," she shrieked, "and I don't want to be in Luxembourg too long. I hope you can do something about Sebastian soon."

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

"I can creep to Luxembourg as soon as I pack a fish bowl, a polo shirt, and my flyswatter."

"You'd better take a watering can too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he snarled fondly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's four hundred eighteen dollars as a retainer," she replied daintily. I also have an extremely valuable collection of towels. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and climbed fearfully out of the office. He stared repeatedly after her.

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