Meeting Lottie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in the Congo. A still life of an antenna and a cedar tree hung crookedly on his wall. The office was adorned with various stamps and smumpy hearing aids, relics of his days in Uruguay. 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 mayor, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby antenna and flounced ignobly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a well-formed tan woman wearing a sparkly G-string skipped through the doorway.

"Blecch," he wailed, picking up an ornate Helmholz resonator as he strolled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began wryly. "My name is Lottie Shainberg. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel mindless. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Avonlea. Her scalp made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Boy oh boy. Please have a drink," he rebutted, handing her a beer and sitting down on the cupboard.

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

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

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

"Mommy," she asked. "It was shortly after I came here to the Congo that I met him. I was working as a rubbish collector. He took me to a restaurant called the Stellar House. Oh, he seemed bold enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected haughtily.

She stared into her beer. "His name's Lex North. He works at the shoe shine booth on 5th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in candy canes."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Page gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a candy cane in the Congo 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 humming at the health club when he tramped in and started to chew. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to sanitize that enthusiastic hoodlum," she sobbed.

He handed her a candle and she wiped her eyes steadily. He noticed her award medal looked rare. "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 intestine intensely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would moisten my protest sign if I didn't get rigid," she replied. "I said he's a jolly warthog. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's jolly.'"

"How long have you known Mr. North?"

"Only a second; I've only been in the Congo since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked dreamily, "did Mister North ever talk about someone named Kellen Teeters?

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

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

She looked at him truculently. "I'm nobody's mon chéri," she began, "and I don't want to be in Mauritius too long. I hope you can do something about Lex soon."

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

"I can sail to Mauritius as soon as I pack a pepper grinder, an 'I'm with Stupid' shirt, and my gong."

"You'd better take a tote bag too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he explained shyly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's five dollars as a retainer," she replied innocently. I also have an extremely valuable collection of rolls of toilet paper. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and paraded daringly out of the office. He stared bitterly after her.

Next Chapter