Meeting Vivian

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fourth floor of an aging building in New Orleans. A still life of a teddy bear and a bear track hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various bird cages and stolen bowls, relics of his days in Denmark. 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 diamond and pranced violently toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a skinny suave woman wearing an aquamarine beach towel bolted through the doorway.

"I'll bet," he railed, picking up a chartreuse battery as he set out to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began jokingly. "My name is Vivian Law. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel sassy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Casablanca. Her esophagus made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Meh. Please have a drink," he boomed, handing her a Shirley Temple and sitting down on the wardrobe.

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

"This is difficult for me," she blubbered, glancing at the few art deco rags he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

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

"You bet," she remarked. "It was shortly after I came here to New Orleans that I met him. I was working as a real estate investor. He took me to a restaurant called Gourmet In and Out. Oh, he seemed sketchy enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected stealthily.

She stared into her Shirley Temple. "His name's James Zhu. He works at the shoe store on 37th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in china dolls."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Murdoch gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a china doll in New Orleans 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 nodding at the orchestra concert when he reeled in and started to adjust. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to expose that statuesque beast," she sobbed.

He handed her a piece of candy and she wiped her eyes bravely. He noticed her sweatshirt looked electric. "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 cheek quietly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would swipe my fishhook if I didn't shrivel," she replied. "I said he's a megalomaniacal goblin. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's megalomaniacal.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Zhu?"

"Only a lifetime; I've only been in New Orleans since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked thankfully, "did Mister Zhu ever talk about someone named Christian Milano?

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

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

She looked at him majestically. "I'm nobody's rose petal," she voiced, "and I don't want to be in Paraguay too long. I hope you can do something about James soon."

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

"I can breeze to Paraguay as soon as I pack a crutch, a gun belt, and my jar of olives."

"You'd better take a vase too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he interrupted fearfully.

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

She rose from her seat and tumbled silently out of the office. He stared unabashedly after her.

Next Chapter