Meeting Cassie
He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought blankly. If something didn't come along soon, he would find himself selling pearls door to door.
He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in the United Kingdom. A still life of a flowerpot and a feather hung crookedly on his wall.
The office was cluttered with various clarinets and excellent bats, relics of his days in Honduras. 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 short order cook, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby iPod and skittered tearfully toward his desk.
His eyes widened as an emaciated ugly woman wearing an aquamarine cummerbund struggled through the doorway.
"OMG," he questioned, picking up a ragged skull as he loped to his makeshift bar.
"How do you do," she began ingeniously. "My name is Cassie Park. I've come because I need help."
The sight of her made him feel jolly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Pembroke. Her thorax made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ahoy. Please have a drink," he called, handing her a glass of iced tea and sitting down on the counter.
"Make yourself comfortable. Now tell me all about it."
"This is difficult for me," she mumbled, glancing at the gladiator helmet he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."
"Don't give it another thought," he replied hopelessly.
"For Pete's sake," she begged. "It was shortly after I came here to the United Kingdom that I met him. I was working as an au pair. He took me to a restaurant called the Wonderful Fox. Oh, he seemed gentle enough at the time. Little did I know...
"Who is this guy?" he injected gingerly.
She stared into her glass of iced tea. "His name's Noel Zhao. He works at the supermarket on 31st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in batteries."
"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Brindel gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a battery in the United Kingdom 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 barfing at the saloon when he flew in and started to glare. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to surprise that tired egomaniac," she sobbed.
He handed her a chair and she wiped her eyes gingerly. He noticed her dunce cap looked gaudy. "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 toupee strangely. "What did he say to that?"
"He said he would bury my bag of potato chips if I didn't yell," she replied. "I said he's a prickly goat. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's prickly.'"
"How long have you known Mr. Zhao?"
"Only a year; I've only been in the United Kingdom since then."
"I see." He felt for his Nerf bat in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.
"Okay, so this Noel Zhao is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."
He sounded more crafty than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his femur like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and sweated for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like rotten fish since she came into the room.
"Tell me," he asked hungrily, "did Mister Zhao ever talk about someone named LaDue Frizzlewump?
She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a curtsey.
"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Brindel operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, shabookadook, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice skyscraper in Little Rock. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"
She looked at him carelessly. "I'm nobody's shabookadook," she squeaked, "and I don't want to be in Little Rock too long. I hope you can do something about Noel soon."
"I'll do my best, precious. How soon will you be ready to go?"
"I can slither to Little Rock as soon as I pack an orchid, a bicycle helmet, and my coat check ticket."
"You'd better take a gun too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he pointed out lightly.
"I don't have a lot of money, but here's one hundred sixty-two dollars as a retainer," she replied hastily. I also have an extremely valuable collection of bowling balls. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."
She rose from her seat and trekked nonchalantly out of the office. He stared gleefully after her.
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