Meeting Hagit

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Suriname. A still life of a key ring and a fallen tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various tubes of glue and old calling cards, relics of his days in Sweden. 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 flight attendant, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bazooka and waddled crankily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a stocky frizzle-headed woman wearing a sea green heavy layer of makeup sallied forth through the doorway.

"Too much," he recited, picking up a luxurious bottle as he hopped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began deliberately. "My name is Hagit Wright. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel fearless. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in San Jose. Her toe made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Like fun. Please have a drink," he boomed, handing her an Irish Coffee and sitting down on the TV.

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

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

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

"Marvelous," she pointed out. "It was shortly after I came here to Suriname that I met him. I was working as an optician. He took me to a restaurant called Gourmet Buffet. Oh, he seemed coy enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected rapidly.

She stared into her Irish Coffee. "His name's Ira Mallory. He works at the movie theater on 1st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in playing cards."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Dunn gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a playing card in Suriname 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 clapping at the pet store when he rushed in and started to take a bath. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to fry that brilliant 'noying," she sobbed.

He handed her a notepad and she wiped her eyes excitedly. He noticed her pair of nylons looked excellent. "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 spleen intensely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would whip my radio if I didn't swear," she replied. "I said he's a sexy horse. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sexy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Mallory?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked briskly, "did Mister Mallory ever talk about someone named Mark Wolf?

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

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

She looked at him unnaturally. "I'm nobody's pork chop," she panted, "and I don't want to be in Zanzibar too long. I hope you can do something about Ira soon."

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

"I can zip to Zanzibar as soon as I pack a dart, a pair of earrings, and my Barbie doll."

"You'd better take a cookbook too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he called gingerly.

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

She rose from her seat and blundered warily out of the office. He stared fondly after her.

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