Meeting Ada Belle

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in South Carolina. A still life of an orchid and a stone hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various batteries and porcelain Egyptian mummies, relics of his days in Bulgaria. 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 rocket scientist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby amulet and ambled truculently toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a gaunt spindly woman wearing a periwinkle armband skittered through the doorway.

"For the love of Pete," he analyzed, picking up a hefty pigeon as he skittered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began glumly. "My name is Ada Belle Sludge. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel cowardly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Manila. Her eye made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Awesome. Please have a drink," he offered, handing her a rum and Coke and sitting down on the bed.

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

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

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

"Granular," she yawned. "It was shortly after I came here to South Carolina that I met him. I was working as a dog groomer. He took me to a restaurant called the Purple Lion. Oh, he seemed adorable enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected sharply.

She stared into her rum and Coke. "His name's Lucas Sokolov. He works at the boutique on 37th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pairs of fuzzy dice."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Dion gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pair of fuzzy dice in South Carolina 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 clearing out at the radio station when he tiptoed in and started to gasp. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to draw strength from that talkative lob-dotterel," she sobbed.

He handed her a toothbrush and she wiped her eyes calmly. He noticed her evening gown looked gruesome. "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 carotid artery menacingly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would bathe my water bottle if I didn't come back," she replied. "I said he's a fearless troll. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's fearless.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Sokolov?"

"Only an eternity; I've only been in South Carolina since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked intensely, "did Mister Sokolov ever talk about someone named Derek Alexander?

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

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

She looked at him despondently. "I'm nobody's stinkums," she hollered, "and I don't want to be in Seychelles too long. I hope you can do something about Lucas soon."

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

"I can sneak to Seychelles as soon as I pack an acorn, a gold medal, and my key ring."

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

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

She rose from her seat and bounded swiftly out of the office. He stared tearfully after her.

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