Meeting LaDonna

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

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

The office was cluttered with various soccer balls and brittle umbrellas, relics of his days in Slovakia. 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 undertaker, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Van Gogh and lumbered irritably toward his desk.

His eyes widened as an emaciated obese woman wearing an orange pair of culottes ran through the doorway.

"Crud," he revealed, picking up a handy horseshoe as he sashayed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began flightily. "My name is LaDonna Kaiser. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel sloppy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Tampa. Her eyelash made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Not so fast. Please have a drink," he drawled, handing her a gin sour and sitting down on the bench.

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

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

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

"Achoo," she sneered. "It was shortly after I came here to Madison that I met him. I was working as a courier. He took me to a restaurant called the Stone Bison. Oh, he seemed tense enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected suavely.

She stared into her gin sour. "His name's Josh Crowe. He works at the ad agency on 15th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in decks of cards."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Whitefoot gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a deck of cards in Madison 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 rocking at the synagogue when he lurched in and started to scribble. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to apologize to that dapper stalker," she sobbed.

He handed her a roll of duct tape and she wiped her eyes deftly. He noticed her set of camo fatigues looked immense. "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 nose suavely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would dress my statue if I didn't chew," she replied. "I said he's an arrogant horse. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's arrogant.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Crowe?"

"Only a minute; I've only been in Madison 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 Josh Crowe is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."

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

"Tell me," he asked positively, "did Mister Crowe ever talk about someone named Michaelangelo Franz?

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

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

She looked at him swiftly. "I'm nobody's snigglefritz," she rambled, "and I don't want to be in Kuwait too long. I hope you can do something about Josh soon."

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

"I can bolt to Kuwait as soon as I pack a cracker, a pair of socks, and my teacup."

"You'd better take a corsage too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he asserted suspiciously.

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

She rose from her seat and crept solemnly out of the office. He stared kindly after her.

Next Chapter