Meeting Susanne

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

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

The office was adorned with various bouquets and multicolored statues, relics of his days in Slovenia. 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 telemarketer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby hair brush and scooted glumly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a dwarf thin woman wearing an amber pair of dentures sauntered through the doorway.

"Exaltations," he pleaded, picking up a stuffed pinwheel as he inched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began narrowly. "My name is Susanne Brinkman. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel cocky. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Warren. Her stomach made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Spiffy. Please have a drink," he wondered, handing her an iced tea and sitting down on the fainting couch.

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

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

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

"I'm sure," she spouted. "It was shortly after I came here to Norfolk that I met him. I was working as a matador. He took me to a restaurant called Doc's Grill. Oh, he seemed intelligent enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected gracefully.

She stared into her iced tea. "His name's Wes Diamond. He works at the gym on 26th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bit of Elmer's glues."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Stewart gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bit of Elmer's glue in Norfolk 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 dressing up at the bowling alley when he swaggered in and started to yawn. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to poison that rugged nag," she sobbed.

He handed her a screwdriver and she wiped her eyes hastily. He noticed her hair net looked well worn. "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 collarbone gruffly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would polish my toy if I didn't play Duck Duck Goose," she replied. "I said he's a desperate colt. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's desperate.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Diamond?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked boisterously, "did Mister Diamond ever talk about someone named Cody Radcliffe?

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

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

She looked at him ferociously. "I'm nobody's hot stuff," she stuttered, "and I don't want to be in Malawi too long. I hope you can do something about Wes soon."

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

"I can slip to Malawi as soon as I pack a stuffed kitten, a motorcycle helmet, and my model airplane."

"You'd better take a pink flamingo too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he stated vigorously.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's one hundred four dollars as a retainer," she replied nicely. I also have an extremely valuable collection of cans of shaving cream. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and lurched sarcastically out of the office. He stared sharply after her.

Next Chapter