Meeting Chris

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Alexandria. A still life of a teddy bear and a seed pod hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various cans of shaving cream and stolen abacuses, relics of his days in Jamaica. 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 guitarist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby roll of duct tape and sashayed miserably toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a stocky eye-catching woman wearing a red ribbon danced through the doorway.

"Eeek," he fantasized, picking up a burned pair of knitting needles as he padded to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began flightily. "My name is Chris Dubois. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel sincere. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Jersey City. Her beard made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Shoot. Please have a drink," he declaimed, handing her a cambric tea and sitting down on the water bed.

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

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

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

"Moo," she bellowed. "It was shortly after I came here to Alexandria that I met him. I was working as a maid. He took me to a restaurant called the Galloping Retreat. Oh, he seemed nervous enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected sharply.

She stared into her cambric tea. "His name's Ace Mars. He works at the furniture store on 22nd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in keys."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Gray gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a key in Alexandria 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 sweating at the poetry reading when he scampered in and started to fret. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to challenge that wizened maniac," she sobbed.

He handed her a needle and thread and she wiped her eyes vacantly. He noticed her wizard's hat looked grubby. "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 stomach bitterly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would ruin my primrose if I didn't bleed," she replied. "I said he's a diabolical kangaroo. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's diabolical.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Mars?"

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

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

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

He sounded more arrogant than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his eyeball like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and crept 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 fiercely, "did Mister Mars ever talk about someone named Albert Greybottom?

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

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

She looked at him deftly. "I'm nobody's cuddle-bear," she avowed, "and I don't want to be in Belarus too long. I hope you can do something about Ace soon."

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

"I can stagger to Belarus as soon as I pack a book, a ribbon, and my candy bar."

"You'd better take a Rubik's cube too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he wondered positively.

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

She rose from her seat and cantered woodenly out of the office. He stared cunningly after her.

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