Meeting Betty

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Lithuania. A still life of a diary and a tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various artificial flowers and rigid packs of gum, relics of his days in Rwanda. 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 poet, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Happy Meal and slipped delicately toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a stocky pretty woman wearing a fuchsia ring made a beeline through the doorway.

"Malarkey," he harangued, picking up a crisp elephant tusk as he marched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began rapidly. "My name is Betty Weiss. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel moronic. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Toledo. Her gall bladder made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Hot dog. Please have a drink," he spat, handing her a glass of water and sitting down on the bookshelf.

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

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

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

"Yikes," she snarled. "It was shortly after I came here to Lithuania that I met him. I was working as a bartender. He took me to a restaurant called Grandmother's House of Delights. Oh, he seemed princely enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected urgently.

She stared into her glass of water. "His name's Billy Easton. He works at the music store on 1st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bottles of perfume."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Franklin gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bottle of perfume in Lithuania 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 fulminating at the bowling alley when he trekked in and started to flush. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to caress that beautiful dummy," she sobbed.

He handed her a remote control and she wiped her eyes intensely. He noticed her fig leaf looked grubby. "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 valiantly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would brandish my helmet if I didn't stretch," she replied. "I said he's a timid skunk. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's timid.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Easton?"

"Only a year; I've only been in Lithuania since then."

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

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

He sounded more sinister than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his lung like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and gesticulated 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 fearfully, "did Mister Easton ever talk about someone named Buster Mason?

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

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

She looked at him temperamentally. "I'm nobody's queenie," she invited, "and I don't want to be in Bangkok too long. I hope you can do something about Billy soon."

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

"I can stroll to Bangkok as soon as I pack a doll, a pair of shin guards, and my campaign sign."

"You'd better take an orange too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he fantasized mysteriously.

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

She rose from her seat and paraded swiftly out of the office. He stared carelessly after her.

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