Meeting May

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 cookies door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Austin. A still life of a rubber stamp and a seed pod hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various magnets and cotton magazines, relics of his days in Panama. 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 court reporter, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby trash can and loped urgently toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a tall haggard woman wearing a lavender cheerleader's uniform breezed through the doorway.

"Oh joy," he piped up, picking up a bulky smart phone as he swung to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began again. "My name is May Sims. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel jolly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Grand Rapids. Her heel made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "What in tarnation. Please have a drink," he rationalized, handing her a cup of espresso and sitting down on the counter.

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

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

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

"Thanks for nothing," she thought. "It was shortly after I came here to Austin that I met him. I was working as an emergency medical technician. He took me to a restaurant called the Rolling Gems. Oh, he seemed diabolical enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected truculently.

She stared into her cup of espresso. "His name's Cyrus Plunkett. He works at the mortuary on 36th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in crackers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Halperin gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a cracker in Austin 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 gasping at the orchestra concert when he crawled in and started to kneel. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to tickle that cuddly chowderhead," she sobbed.

He handed her a polo shirt and she wiped her eyes victoriously. He noticed her pair of heels looked dusty. "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 leg daintily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would rearrange my piggy bank if I didn't burble," she replied. "I said he's a grizzled reindeer. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's grizzled.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Plunkett?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked lovingly, "did Mister Plunkett ever talk about someone named Hugh Tate?

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

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

She looked at him elatedly. "I'm nobody's little one," she disputed, "and I don't want to be in Cyprus too long. I hope you can do something about Cyrus soon."

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

"I can walk to Cyprus as soon as I pack a tote bag, an earring, and my piece of chalk."

"You'd better take a joint too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he moaned confidently.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's two dollars as a retainer," she replied wildly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of cans of beans. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and inched dolefully out of the office. He stared noisily after her.

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