Meeting Tiffany

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

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

The office was adorned with various baby dolls and smooth magnets, relics of his days in Hungary. 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 shyster, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby sea shell and lumbered quickly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slight sexy woman wearing an azure hair net ran through the doorway.

"Boo," he wailed, picking up an amazing microphone as he sauntered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began bravely. "My name is Tiffany Wales. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel queer. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Montreal. Her funny bone made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Hang it. Please have a drink," he admitted, handing her a bottle of Gatorade and sitting down on the chair.

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

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

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

"Boy oh boy," she joked. "It was shortly after I came here to Greece that I met him. I was working as a reporter. He took me to a restaurant called the Golden Dog. Oh, he seemed lively enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected pityingly.

She stared into her bottle of Gatorade. "His name's Caleb Berger. He works at the liquor store on 13th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in tickets."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Lincoln gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a ticket in Greece 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 fidgeting at the saloon when he slumped in and started to frown. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to giggle at that self-assured chowderhead," she sobbed.

He handed her a ticket and she wiped her eyes urgently. He noticed her pair of socks looked expensive. "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 femur fearfully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would shred my Lego set if I didn't collapse," she replied. "I said he's a pensive gila monster. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's pensive.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Berger?"

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

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

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

He sounded more haughty 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 died for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like car exhaust since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked stupidly, "did Mister Berger ever talk about someone named Nicholas Garland?

She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a wag of the finger.

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

She looked at him flightily. "I'm nobody's turtle dove," she disputed, "and I don't want to be in Thailand too long. I hope you can do something about Caleb soon."

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

"I can sally forth to Thailand as soon as I pack a shovel, a miniskirt, and my bottle of painkillers."

"You'd better take an umbrella too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he stammered innocently.

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

She rose from her seat and strolled oddly out of the office. He stared openly after her.

Next Chapter