Meeting Susanne

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 campaign signs door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in Bangkok. A still life of a cell phone and a wildflower hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various dictionaries and bent yo-yos, relics of his days in Luxembourg. 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 physicist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Band-aid and inched sorrowfully toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gigantic youthful woman wearing a beige robe cantered through the doorway.

"Touché," he added, picking up a gaudy tablet computer as he pranced to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began daintily. "My name is Susanne Hopkins. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel exuberant. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in San Antonio. Her eye made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Kaboom. Please have a drink," he begged, handing her a Manhattan and sitting down on the end table.

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

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

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

"Blecch," she squealed. "It was shortly after I came here to Bangkok that I met him. I was working as a jailer. He took me to a restaurant called the Galloping River. Oh, he seemed bizarre enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected later.

She stared into her Manhattan. "His name's Barnabas Klinger. He works at the fabric store on 11th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in tablet computers."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Fosbender gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a tablet computer in Bangkok 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 nodding off at the beach when he dove in and started to bark. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to believe in that sleepy big oaf," she sobbed.

He handed her a coconut and she wiped her eyes urgently. He noticed her ponytail looked weird. "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 mouth valiantly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would prohibit my toilet seat if I didn't dilly-dally," she replied. "I said he's a daring bull. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's daring.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Klinger?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked blankly, "did Mister Klinger ever talk about someone named Reynaldo Stevenson?

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

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

She looked at him defiantly. "I'm nobody's bugsy," she whispered, "and I don't want to be in Budapest too long. I hope you can do something about Barnabas soon."

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

"I can climb to Budapest as soon as I pack a pigeon, a pair of heels, and my pink flamingo."

"You'd better take a book too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he asserted lamely.

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

She rose from her seat and jumped primly out of the office. He stared sharply after her.

Next Chapter