Meeting Jeanette

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Tennessee. A still life of a paper clip and a bit of litter hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various campaign signs and magnificent spiders, relics of his days in Bulgaria. 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 criminal, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby floppy disk and sneaked ignobly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny plain woman wearing a polka dotted Superman costume jumped through the doorway.

"Holy frijole," he shouted, picking up a hefty grease gun as he barrelled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began woefully. "My name is Jeanette Irvin. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel bubbly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Nashville. Her toupee made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Get out. Please have a drink," he griped, handing her a Tom and Jerry and sitting down on the fainting couch.

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

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

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

"Bravo," she phrased. "It was shortly after I came here to Tennessee that I met him. I was working as a pediatrician. He took me to a restaurant called Tokyo Urn. Oh, he seemed decisive enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected fearfully.

She stared into her Tom and Jerry. "His name's Rich Rice. He works at the malt shop on 37th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in doilies."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Morales gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a doily in Tennessee 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 squinting at the gyro shop when he proceeded in and started to look puzzled. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to love that portly baby," she sobbed.

He handed her a feather and she wiped her eyes silently. He noticed her pair of shoes looked large. "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 claw lightly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would bake my file folder if I didn't wiggle," she replied. "I said he's a timid lamb. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's timid.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Rice?"

"Only a week; I've only been in Tennessee since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked victoriously, "did Mister Rice ever talk about someone named Everett Blanco?

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

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

She looked at him silently. "I'm nobody's sweet," she conversed, "and I don't want to be in Greece too long. I hope you can do something about Rich soon."

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

"I can tiptoe to Greece as soon as I pack a pom-pom, a pair of knickers, and my acorn."

"You'd better take a tube of glue too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he reminded miserably.

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

She rose from her seat and galloped immediately out of the office. He stared nicely after her.

Next Chapter