Meeting Dierdre

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the seventh floor of an aging building in Orlando. A still life of a file folder and a spring hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various toothbrushes and hand-carved grease guns, relics of his days in Romania. 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 woodworker, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby hockey puck and waded bravely toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a bony homely woman wearing a magenta pair of combat boots went through the doorway.

"Unreal," he smiled, picking up an ancient ashtray as he sidled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began carefully. "My name is Dierdre Goldwater. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel stylish. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Manchester. Her waist made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Who says?. Please have a drink," he murmured, handing her a Moscow mule and sitting down on the stool.

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

"This is difficult for me," she gasped, glancing at the set of camo fatigues he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

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

"Gesundheit," she croaked. "It was shortly after I came here to Orlando that I met him. I was working as a traveling salesman. He took me to a restaurant called Doc's Wall. Oh, he seemed conscientious enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected recklessly.

She stared into her Moscow mule. "His name's Nickolas Del Genio. He works at the train depot on 32nd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in flowers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Berger gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a flower in Orlando 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 upset at the ski resort when he slid in and started to barf. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to challenge that dark slacker," she sobbed.

He handed her a cork and she wiped her eyes tearfully. He noticed her tattoo looked fancy. "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 toenail gleefully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would scrub my umbrella if I didn't dress up," she replied. "I said he's a princely gnu. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's princely.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Del Genio?"

"Only a blink of an eye; I've only been in Orlando since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked cheerfully, "did Mister Del Genio ever talk about someone named Cosmo Hyde?

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

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

She looked at him surreptitiously. "I'm nobody's mon bébé," she blurted, "and I don't want to be in Latvia too long. I hope you can do something about Nickolas soon."

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

"I can wade to Latvia as soon as I pack a bag of popcorn, a Hawaiian shirt, and my air compressor."

"You'd better take a purse too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he announced sleepily.

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

She rose from her seat and reeled temperamentally out of the office. He stared urgently after her.

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