Meeting Elliott

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Croatia. A still life of a cotton ball and a seed pod hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various nails and hand-painted key rings, relics of his days in Chile. 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 court reporter, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby fish and crept anxiously toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a colossal dark woman wearing an olive drab pacifier struggled through the doorway.

"Golly whiz," he yowled, picking up a fancy clam as he inched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began lovingly. "My name is Elliott Findley. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel athletic. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Orlando. Her ear made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ouch. Please have a drink," he blustered, handing her a Tom and Jerry and sitting down on the coat rack.

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

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

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

"Scurvy dog," she blustered. "It was shortly after I came here to Croatia that I met him. I was working as an organist. He took me to a restaurant called Tokyo Pie Kitchen. Oh, he seemed dowdy enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected grandly.

She stared into her Tom and Jerry. "His name's Anthony Lizard. He works at the shoe store on 37th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in plaques."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Knotts gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a plaque in Croatia 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 primping at the bookstore when he darted in and started to vegetate. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to believe in that rude snoop," she sobbed.

He handed her a Band-aid and she wiped her eyes coldly. He noticed her vest looked fresh. "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 cheek arrogantly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would inflate my iPod if I didn't rejoice," she replied. "I said he's a monstrous coyote. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's monstrous.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Lizard?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Croatia since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked glibly, "did Mister Lizard ever talk about someone named Mahatma Potatohead?

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

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

She looked at him cunningly. "I'm nobody's honey," she invited, "and I don't want to be in Nepal too long. I hope you can do something about Anthony soon."

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

"I can sally forth to Nepal as soon as I pack a bilge pump, a space suit, and my cardboard box."

"You'd better take a peanut too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he demanded speedily.

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

She rose from her seat and ran uneasily out of the office. He stared woodenly after her.

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