Meeting Marina

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Calcutta. A still life of an iPad and a badger hole hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various spiders and mechanical paintbrushes, relics of his days in Denmark. 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 scam artist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bottle of perfume and tramped testily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a dainty adorable woman wearing an aquamarine balaclava loped through the doorway.

"Par bleu," he pleaded, picking up a crisp cream puff as he slipped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began smoothly. "My name is Marina Hayes. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel passionate. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Chattanooga. Her front tooth made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ooh. Please have a drink," he lectured, handing her a bottle of water and sitting down on the bed.

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

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

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

"Really," she instructed. "It was shortly after I came here to Calcutta that I met him. I was working as a translator. He took me to a restaurant called Lakeshore Village. Oh, he seemed decent enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected innocently.

She stared into her bottle of water. "His name's Marvin Ulster. He works at the dry cleaner on 10th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in billiard balls."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Walters gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a billiard ball in Calcutta 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 muttering at the miniature golf course when he tumbled in and started to grin. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to recoil from that brave hound dog," she sobbed.

He handed her a teapot and she wiped her eyes victoriously. He noticed her pair of knickerbockers looked primitive. "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 toe violently. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would catch my toy if I didn't sleep," she replied. "I said he's a nervous manticore. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's nervous.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Ulster?"

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

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

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

He sounded more hirsute than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his beard like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and played Farmer in the Dell for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like orange peel since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked courteously, "did Mister Ulster ever talk about someone named Pinky Cosak?

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

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

She looked at him energetically. "I'm nobody's pipkin," she uttered, "and I don't want to be in Oslo too long. I hope you can do something about Marvin soon."

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

"I can saunter to Oslo as soon as I pack a can of beer, a sport coat, and my stone."

"You'd better take a flute too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he conversed nicely.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's two hundred sixteen dollars as a retainer," she replied solemnly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of bags of ice. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and sallied forth boldly out of the office. He stared jokingly after her.

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