Meeting April

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the seventh floor of an aging building in Monaco. A still life of a flag and a twig hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various glockenspiels and weird rubber stamps, relics of his days in Mozambique. 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 network administrator, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby piece of paper and darted numbly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a haggard spindly woman wearing an orange tutu trotted through the doorway.

"Castor and Pollux! Blow me to Bermuda," he asserted, picking up a funny ping-pong paddle as he strode to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began timidly. "My name is April Soto. 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 Hannover. Her paw made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "I beg your pardon. Please have a drink," he peeped, handing her a tonic and sitting down on the umbrella stand.

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

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

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

"Goodness me," she reasoned. "It was shortly after I came here to Monaco that I met him. I was working as a security guard. He took me to a restaurant called the City Inn. Oh, he seemed prickly enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected excitedly.

She stared into her tonic. "His name's Gilbert Potter. He works at the deli on 13th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in sticks."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Berkowitz gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a stick in Monaco 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 screeching at the tattoo parlor when he hobbled in and started to murmur. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to baffle that unruffled dodo," she sobbed.

He handed her a cigarette and she wiped her eyes innocently. He noticed her pair of UGGs looked used. "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 adrenal gland lightly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would inspect my vacuum cleaner if I didn't play," she replied. "I said he's an undignified hedgehog. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's undignified.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Potter?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Monaco since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked admiringly, "did Mister Potter ever talk about someone named Brent Anderson?

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

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

She looked at him silently. "I'm nobody's dearest," she sighed, "and I don't want to be in Florida too long. I hope you can do something about Gilbert soon."

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

"I can galumph to Florida as soon as I pack a kite, a belt buckle, and my basketball."

"You'd better take a bag of ice too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he muttered woodenly.

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

She rose from her seat and zipped smoothly out of the office. He stared grandly after her.

Next Chapter