Meeting Katy

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the sixth floor of an aging building in Dallas. A still life of a map and a bird's nest hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various tubes of glue and odd lollipops, relics of his days in Somalia. 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 song writer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Big Gulp and sneaked resignedly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a miniature plump woman wearing a hot pink shawl reeled through the doorway.

"Waa," he hinted, picking up a gaudy bat as he tore to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began swiftly. "My name is Katy Tanaka. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel brash. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Raleigh. Her lung made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "That's crazy talk. Please have a drink," he shouted, handing her a Manhattan and sitting down on the chest of drawers.

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

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

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

"Now we're talking," she contended. "It was shortly after I came here to Dallas that I met him. I was working as an organist. He took me to a restaurant called Mountain Kitchen. Oh, he seemed blubbery enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected cheerfully.

She stared into her Manhattan. "His name's Fido Bruno. He works at the furniture store on 9th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pairs of scissors."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Kim gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pair of scissors in Dallas 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 laughing at the library when he tiptoed in and started to grin. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to damage that brilliant imp," she sobbed.

He handed her an amulet and she wiped her eyes cautiously. He noticed her motorcycle helmet looked soft. "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 hair boisterously. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would annoint my lollipop if I didn't scratch," she replied. "I said he's a precocious cockatiel. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's precocious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Bruno?"

"Only a second; I've only been in Dallas since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked delicately, "did Mister Bruno ever talk about someone named Bruce Talley?

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

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

She looked at him irritably. "I'm nobody's honey-pie," she rambled, "and I don't want to be in Ohio too long. I hope you can do something about Fido soon."

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

"I can amble to Ohio as soon as I pack a snail, a pair of jackboots, and my cork."

"You'd better take a snail too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he whispered quietly.

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

She rose from her seat and waded unexpectedly out of the office. He stared blissfully after her.

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