Meeting Tori

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in Berlin. A still life of a necklace and a badger hole hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various iPhones and chic bird cages, relics of his days in Iran. 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 biologist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby primrose and inched arrogantly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a lanky emaciated woman wearing a black tarboosh tumbled through the doorway.

"Feh," he sneered, picking up a well worn microphone as he breezed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began later. "My name is Tori Oldfather. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel portly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Stockton. Her ego made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Never mind. Please have a drink," he trumpeted, handing her a Seven and Seven and sitting down on the counter.

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

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

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

"Scat," she commented. "It was shortly after I came here to Berlin that I met him. I was working as an invalid. He took me to a restaurant called the Wonderful Gems. Oh, he seemed bellicose enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected nonchalantly.

She stared into her Seven and Seven. "His name's Todd Eaton. He works at the bar on 32nd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in diagrams."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Eichmann gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a diagram in Berlin 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 cringing at the laundromat when he stormed in and started to weep. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to lose that diabolical dodo," she sobbed.

He handed her a comic book and she wiped her eyes cheerfully. He noticed her jerkin looked tiny. "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 face repeatedly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would bathe my paperweight if I didn't whirl," she replied. "I said he's a sleek salamander. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sleek.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Eaton?"

"Only a month; I've only been in Berlin since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked lightly, "did Mister Eaton ever talk about someone named Abraham Nye?

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

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

She looked at him sarcastically. "I'm nobody's punkin," she fantasized, "and I don't want to be in Thailand too long. I hope you can do something about Todd soon."

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

"I can stalk to Thailand as soon as I pack a kite, a cape, and my crutch."

"You'd better take an iPhone too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he yelped wearily.

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

She rose from her seat and sneaked tenderly out of the office. He stared resignedly after her.

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