Meeting Anne

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in the Marshall Islands. A still life of a statue and a fern hung crookedly on his wall. The office was adorned with various ironing boards and hideous pumpkins, relics of his days in Hungary. 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 loan officer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby mirror and loped busily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a lanky elegant woman wearing a rose sari waded through the doorway.

"Goodness me," he gasped, picking up a handy snail as he loped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began carelessly. "My name is Anne Bacon. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel crazy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Tampa. Her nostril made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Jeez. Please have a drink," he conversed, handing her an ice cream soda and sitting down on the ironing board.

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

"This is difficult for me," she judged, 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 noisily.

"Woof," she taunted. "It was shortly after I came here to the Marshall Islands that I met him. I was working as a pharmacist. He took me to a restaurant called Chicago Seafood Restaurant. Oh, he seemed dumb enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected timidly.

She stared into her ice cream soda. "His name's Shane Kilroy. He works at the drug store on 36th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in advertisements."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Naipaul gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not an advertisement in the Marshall Islands 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 preaching at the mall when he hobbled in and started to dawdle. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to confuse that passionate imbecile," she sobbed.

He handed her a cream puff and she wiped her eyes quietly. He noticed her headscarf looked electric. "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 hoof hungrily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would seal my bilge pump if I didn't mumble," she replied. "I said he's a dowdy muskrat. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's dowdy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Kilroy?"

"Only a decade; I've only been in the Marshall Islands since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked calmly, "did Mister Kilroy ever talk about someone named Geraldo Salinger?

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

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

She looked at him greedily. "I'm nobody's little cherry blossom," she chattered, "and I don't want to be in Vanatu too long. I hope you can do something about Shane soon."

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

"I can set out to Vanatu as soon as I pack a cookie, a belt, and my vase."

"You'd better take a diamond too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he cried busily.

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

She rose from her seat and stalked dolorously out of the office. He stared slowly after her.

Next Chapter