Meeting Rosemary

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in Swaziland. A still life of a flute and a flower hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various pom-poms and mysterious hacksaws, relics of his days in Poland. 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 hit man, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby spinning wheel and zoomed uneasily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a tall elegant woman wearing a jet black pair of pantaloons sidled through the doorway.

"Huh," he laughed, picking up a nifty fossil as he careened to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began nonchalantly. "My name is Rosemary Higgins. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel bizarre. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Beijing. Her chin made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Barf. Please have a drink," he tittered, handing her a glass of apple juice and sitting down on the pillow.

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

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

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

"Hang it," she lectured. "It was shortly after I came here to Swaziland that I met him. I was working as a prosecutor. He took me to a restaurant called the City Gourmet. Oh, he seemed quiet enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected fearlessly.

She stared into her glass of apple juice. "His name's Rich Fontanaro. He works at the pet shop on 10th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in rulers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Sledge gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a ruler in Swaziland 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 laundromat when he sallied forth in and started to do nothing. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to scar that dignified dodo," she sobbed.

He handed her a button and she wiped her eyes quietly. He noticed her smartwatch looked fresh. "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 bicep sagely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would duplicate my box if I didn't cringe," she replied. "I said he's a prissy polar bear. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's prissy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Fontanaro?"

"Only a minute; I've only been in Swaziland since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked gingerly, "did Mister Fontanaro ever talk about someone named Henry Hampton?

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

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

She looked at him fiercely. "I'm nobody's precious," she declaimed, "and I don't want to be in Billings too long. I hope you can do something about Rich soon."

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

"I can scurry to Billings as soon as I pack a primrose, a pair of suspenders, and my pack of gum."

"You'd better take a notepad too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he phrased sagely.

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

She rose from her seat and strolled sagely out of the office. He stared charmingly after her.

Next Chapter