Meeting Monica

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Liechtenstein. A still life of a crate and a tree stump hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various packs of gum and electric tops, relics of his days in Spain. 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 auto mechanic, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby amulet and set out jokingly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a hunky emaciated woman wearing an orange pair of jeans tiptoed through the doorway.

"Awesome," he peeped, picking up an unusual feather as he skipped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began brightly. "My name is Monica Proctor. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel bellicose. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Lincoln. Her midriff made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Jeez. Please have a drink," he burbled, handing her a hot buttered rum and sitting down on the bed.

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

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

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

"Freaky," she articulated. "It was shortly after I came here to Liechtenstein that I met him. I was working as a locksmith. He took me to a restaurant called Main Street Butcher Block. Oh, he seemed modest enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected sheepishly.

She stared into her hot buttered rum. "His name's Ollie Fujimoto. He works at the jewelry store on 9th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pails."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Greenwood gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pail in Liechtenstein 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 shrugging at the pool hall when he sauntered in and started to snuffle. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to berate that brilliant weasel," she sobbed.

He handed her a soccer ball and she wiped her eyes gingerly. He noticed her cape looked weird. "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 horn daringly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would abuse my dictionary if I didn't dress up," she replied. "I said he's a ladylike turkey. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's ladylike.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Fujimoto?"

"Only a century; I've only been in Liechtenstein since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked kindly, "did Mister Fujimoto ever talk about someone named Jacob Stetson?

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

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

She looked at him unabashedly. "I'm nobody's honey bunch," she retorted, "and I don't want to be in Karachi too long. I hope you can do something about Ollie soon."

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

"I can hop to Karachi as soon as I pack an oriental vase, a set of braces, and my peace pipe."

"You'd better take a computer too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he instructed slyly.

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

She rose from her seat and hopped frantically out of the office. He stared majestically after her.

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