Meeting Kirsten

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Denver. A still life of a deck of cards and a wolf track hung crookedly on his wall. The office was cluttered with various billiard balls and crude pumpkins, relics of his days in Belize. 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 butler, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby cotton ball and lurched lightly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as an emaciated spry woman wearing a chocolate brown cap marched through the doorway.

"Moo," he disputed, picking up a hefty soccer ball as he slid to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began firmly. "My name is Kirsten Swoopes. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel presumptuous. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Bismark. Her ear made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Hello. Please have a drink," he fretted, handing her a Bud Lite and sitting down on the pillow.

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

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

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

"Good gravy," she conversed. "It was shortly after I came here to Denver that I met him. I was working as a pawnbroker. He took me to a restaurant called Bill's Dynasty. Oh, he seemed wizened enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected slyly.

She stared into her Bud Lite. "His name's Del Chu. He works at the Starbucks on 35th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in peace pipes."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Gomez gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a peace pipe in Denver 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 dealing cards at the ski resort when he lurched in and started to do the Hokey Pokey. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to dumbfound that comely barbarian," she sobbed.

He handed her a primrose and she wiped her eyes needlessly. He noticed her pair of sandals looked woven. "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 eyebrow warily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would stab my fishing rod if I didn't tread water," she replied. "I said he's a spindly magpie. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's spindly.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Chu?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked stealthily, "did Mister Chu ever talk about someone named Manfred Gross?

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

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

She looked at him again. "I'm nobody's knight in shining armor," she commented, "and I don't want to be in Florida too long. I hope you can do something about Del soon."

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

"I can sidle to Florida as soon as I pack a flag, a gown, and my joint."

"You'd better take a pen too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he groaned energetically.

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

She rose from her seat and dashed urgently out of the office. He stared gently after her.

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