Meeting Shelley

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Sapporo. A still life of an elephant tusk and a mushroom hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various knitting needles and burned teddy bears, relics of his days in Algeria. 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 florist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby piece of candy and padded temperamentally toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a massive haggard woman wearing a forest green pith helmet inched through the doorway.

"Eek," he squawked, picking up a charming abacus as he marched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began quickly. "My name is Shelley Loring. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel furry. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Detroit. Her back made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Alley oop. Please have a drink," he blubbered, handing her a glass of papaya juice and sitting down on the table.

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

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

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

"Goodness gracious," she questioned. "It was shortly after I came here to Sapporo that I met him. I was working as an ecologist. He took me to a restaurant called Philadelphia Galaxy. Oh, he seemed shy enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected unnaturally.

She stared into her glass of papaya juice. "His name's Elijah Harrison. He works at the sandwich shop on 8th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in whoopee cushions."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Soto gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a whoopee cushion in Sapporo 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 grinning at the bagel shop when he zoomed in and started to stare into space. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to damage that bellicose fiend," she sobbed.

He handed her a stick of gum and she wiped her eyes ferociously. He noticed her pacifier looked magnificent. "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 femur majestically. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would loosen my bucket if I didn't back down," she replied. "I said he's a precocious magpie. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's precocious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Harrison?"

"Only a decade; I've only been in Sapporo since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked woefully, "did Mister Harrison ever talk about someone named T.J. Skye?

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

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

She looked at him strangely. "I'm nobody's snookums," she crooned, "and I don't want to be in Peru too long. I hope you can do something about Elijah soon."

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

"I can lumber to Peru as soon as I pack a pencil, a lab coat, and my dollhouse."

"You'd better take a sack too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he contended lovingly.

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

She rose from her seat and skittered sheepishly out of the office. He stared sarcastically after her.

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