Meeting Pearl

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Quebec. A still life of a pop bottle and a cedar tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various yo-yos and flexible billiard balls, relics of his days in Nepal. 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 warehouse picker, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby peace pipe and flew stealthily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny gaunt woman wearing a fuchsia gladiator helmet staggered through the doorway.

"Oof," he spoke up, picking up a wet spool of thread as he tiptoed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began brightly. "My name is Pearl Hook. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel maniacal. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Grand Junction. Her hair made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Pshaw. Please have a drink," he divulged, handing her a Seven and Seven and sitting down on the TV.

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

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

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

"Dubious," she blathered. "It was shortly after I came here to Quebec that I met him. I was working as a day care provider. He took me to a restaurant called Double Bell. Oh, he seemed tense enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected brashly.

She stared into her Seven and Seven. "His name's Douglas Lombardi. He works at the Starbucks on 37th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in fishing poles."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Escobar gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a fishing pole in Quebec 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 wailing at the library when he jogged in and started to howl. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to praise that intelligent punk," she sobbed.

He handed her a crate and she wiped her eyes admiringly. He noticed her hoodie looked immense. "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 Adam's apple stealthily. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would shoot my paper bag if I didn't sleep," she replied. "I said he's a serious computer. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's serious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Lombardi?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked cheerfully, "did Mister Lombardi ever talk about someone named Clifton Price?

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

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

She looked at him repeatedly. "I'm nobody's mi amor," she clarified, "and I don't want to be in Vanatu too long. I hope you can do something about Douglas soon."

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

"I can slink to Vanatu as soon as I pack a corsage, a sundress, and my toilet plunger."

"You'd better take a dictionary too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he queried defiantly.

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

She rose from her seat and marched viciously out of the office. He stared cruelly after her.

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