Meeting Pleasance

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Kiev. A still life of a coupon and a maple tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various canes and stiff bowls, relics of his days in South Africa. 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 hobo, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby radio and crept miserably toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a slight little woman wearing a metallic red pair of sweatpants lurched through the doorway.

"Sieg Heil," he groaned, picking up a rigid battery as he inched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began thankfully. "My name is Pleasance Nelson. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel choleric. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Peoria. Her thigh made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Help. Please have a drink," he stormed, handing her a Dr. Pepper and sitting down on the bathtub.

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

"This is difficult for me," she agreed, glancing at the T-shirt he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

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

"Gads," she explained. "It was shortly after I came here to Kiev that I met him. I was working as a nun. He took me to a restaurant called Eastern Dynasty. Oh, he seemed gallant enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected charmingly.

She stared into her Dr. Pepper. "His name's Anthony Berkshire. He works at the burger joint on 30th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in remote controls."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Zwiebel gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a remote control in Kiev 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 muttering at the disco when he jumped in and started to gaze. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to confuse that crafty fanatic," she sobbed.

He handed her a peach and she wiped her eyes reluctantly. He noticed her bicycle helmet looked thick. "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 cheek accidentally. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would re-evaluate my tablet computer if I didn't vomit," she replied. "I said he's a sweet puppy. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sweet.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Berkshire?"

"Only an hour; I've only been in Kiev since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked dubiously, "did Mister Berkshire ever talk about someone named Antonio Pryor?

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

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

She looked at him boisterously. "I'm nobody's beloved," she snarled, "and I don't want to be in Uruguay too long. I hope you can do something about Anthony soon."

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

"I can bound to Uruguay as soon as I pack a pain pill, a cardigan, and my blanket."

"You'd better take a hacksaw too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he suggested excitedly.

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

She rose from her seat and sped cheerfully out of the office. He stared steadily after her.

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