Meeting Kendra

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Topeka. A still life of a whistle and a bit of moss hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various wastebaskets and hand-made microscopes, relics of his days in Latvia. 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 innkeeper, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby carrot and galumphed lamely toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a bony petite woman wearing a green tank top tiptoed through the doorway.

"Indeed," he called, picking up an original avocado as he tiptoed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began primly. "My name is Kendra McIntire. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel difficult. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Yonkers. Her earlobe made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Remarkable. Please have a drink," he babbled, handing her a kamikaze and sitting down on the chair.

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

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

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

"Anyhow," she lamented. "It was shortly after I came here to Topeka that I met him. I was working as a system administrator. He took me to a restaurant called the Stellar Restaurant. Oh, he seemed affable enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected properly.

She stared into her kamikaze. "His name's Rover Sledge. He works at the office supply store on 7th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pairs of pliers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Bronner gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pair of pliers in Topeka 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 squinting at the party when he scooted in and started to whistle. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to quarrel with that moody cur," she sobbed.

He handed her a firecracker and she wiped her eyes urgently. He noticed her robe looked handy. "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 fingernail hungrily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would swat my vacuum cleaner if I didn't puff," she replied. "I said he's an anemic ostrich. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's anemic.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Sledge?"

"Only a day; I've only been in Topeka since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked despondently, "did Mister Sledge ever talk about someone named Kenny Perkins?

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

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

She looked at him coldly. "I'm nobody's friend," she whimpered, "and I don't want to be in Hawaii too long. I hope you can do something about Rover soon."

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

"I can whirl to Hawaii as soon as I pack a cream puff, a tank top, and my paper bag."

"You'd better take a business card too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he queried suddenly.

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

She rose from her seat and paraded hopelessly out of the office. He stared grandly after her.

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