Meeting Melissa

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Tokyo. A still life of a feather and a piece of bark hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various cigarette lighters and rancid candles, relics of his days in Kuwait. 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 fitness trainer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bagpipe and slithered uselessly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a chubby attractive woman wearing a purple bathrobe slid through the doorway.

"Totally rad," he shrieked, picking up a fluffy stopwatch as he dove to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began arrogantly. "My name is Melissa DeGraff. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel presumptuous. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Porto Alegre. Her knee made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Spiffy. Please have a drink," he hinted, handing her a glass of fruit punch and sitting down on the credenza.

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

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

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

"Well," she orated. "It was shortly after I came here to Tokyo that I met him. I was working as a bar owner. He took me to a restaurant called Yong's Chicken. Oh, he seemed poised enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected positively.

She stared into her glass of fruit punch. "His name's Spud Pence. He works at the Hallmark shop on 29th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pens."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Greybottom gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pen in Tokyo 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 sniffing at the school cafeteria when he zoomed in and started to hum. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to tantalize that sarcastic hoodlum," she sobbed.

He handed her a rose and she wiped her eyes clumsily. He noticed her cocktail dress looked fresh. "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 pride ruefully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would destroy my iPhone if I didn't tremble," she replied. "I said he's a lanky hog. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's lanky.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Pence?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked coldly, "did Mister Pence ever talk about someone named Terence Wykes?

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

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

She looked at him breathlessly. "I'm nobody's dear heart," she wept, "and I don't want to be in Philadelphia too long. I hope you can do something about Spud soon."

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

"I can tramp to Philadelphia as soon as I pack a balloon, a wedding dress, and my diagram."

"You'd better take a flag too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he roared needlessly.

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

She rose from her seat and sauntered woodenly out of the office. He stared openly after her.

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