Meeting Abbie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Anchorage. A still life of a billfold and a fern hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various dog collars and dirty water bottles, relics of his days in the United States. 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 physicist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby stuffed kitten and pranced sourly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny pimply woman wearing a polka dotted nose ring straggled through the doorway.

"Why," he acknowledged, picking up a cheap fish as he sailed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began carelessly. "My name is Abbie Hillman. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel thoughtful. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Cincinnati. Her hangnail made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Jeepers creepers. Please have a drink," he cajoled, handing her a Harvey Wallbanger and sitting down on the workbench.

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

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

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

"My gosh," she hinted. "It was shortly after I came here to Anchorage that I met him. I was working as a dog catcher. He took me to a restaurant called Mountain Wingding. Oh, he seemed spindly enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected breathlessly.

She stared into her Harvey Wallbanger. "His name's Christian Frizzlewump. He works at the candy store on 17th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in basketballs."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Deng gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a basketball in Anchorage 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 coughing at the radio station when he swaggered in and started to look smart. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to soothe that friendly screwball," she sobbed.

He handed her a balloon and she wiped her eyes lazily. He noticed her pair of pajamas looked ridged. "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 finger admiringly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would pummel my coat hanger if I didn't tremble," she replied. "I said he's a tactful duck. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's tactful.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Frizzlewump?"

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

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

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

He sounded more contented than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his big toe like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and smiled for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like fresh-baked bread since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked arrogantly, "did Mister Frizzlewump ever talk about someone named Lauren Ordway?

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

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

She looked at him violently. "I'm nobody's sugar plum," she tittered, "and I don't want to be in Hawaii too long. I hope you can do something about Christian soon."

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

"I can set out to Hawaii as soon as I pack an elephant tusk, a pair of combat boots, and my coat hanger."

"You'd better take a baseball bat too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he yowled intensely.

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

She rose from her seat and blundered menacingly out of the office. He stared fearlessly after her.

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