Meeting Alissa

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Armenia. A still life of a piggy bank and a twig hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various church keys and ridged Lego sets, relics of his days in Italy. 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 model, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby roll of toilet paper and barrelled gently toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny little woman wearing a scarlet pair of sandals rolled through the doorway.

"Hmmm," he wailed, picking up a torn file folder as he marched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began urgently. "My name is Alissa Wibbles. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel depraved. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Durham. Her carotid artery made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Brrr. Please have a drink," he answered, handing her a secret potion and sitting down on the cash register.

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

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

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

"Thanks for nothing," she blurted. "It was shortly after I came here to Armenia that I met him. I was working as an elevator operator. He took me to a restaurant called Exotic Gems. Oh, he seemed precocious enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected ferociously.

She stared into her secret potion. "His name's Alexander Cunningham. He works at the furniture store on 14th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in hats."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Coleman gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a hat in Armenia 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 snarling at the dance when he slithered in and started to vegetate. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to shrink that quiet pig," she sobbed.

He handed her a cane and she wiped her eyes nicely. He noticed her gorilla suit looked damaged. "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 throat humbly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would categorize my tissue if I didn't tremble," she replied. "I said he's a vivacious cat. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's vivacious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Cunningham?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked nervously, "did Mister Cunningham ever talk about someone named Carl Shaw?

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

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

She looked at him victoriously. "I'm nobody's snuggle bear," she smirked, "and I don't want to be in Rwanda too long. I hope you can do something about Alexander soon."

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

"I can waddle to Rwanda as soon as I pack a clipboard, a nose ring, and my compass."

"You'd better take a pail too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he lamented sharply.

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

She rose from her seat and rushed testily out of the office. He stared quickly after her.

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