Meeting Alicia

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Seoul. A still life of a coping saw and a cedar tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various pizzas and brittle toolboxes, relics of his days in Netherlands. 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 shyster, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby remote control and bounded courageously toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a thin shapely woman wearing an emerald green swimsuit swaggered through the doorway.

"Dum de dum dum," he groveled, picking up a gross banana as he dove to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began pitifully. "My name is Alicia Locke. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel cautious. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Lincoln. Her tummy made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Duh. Please have a drink," he brought up, handing her a glass of carrot juice and sitting down on the couch.

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

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

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

"Bleep," she enunciated. "It was shortly after I came here to Seoul that I met him. I was working as a radiologist. He took me to a restaurant called Chicago Chef. Oh, he seemed unselfish enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected wearily.

She stared into her glass of carrot juice. "His name's Timothy Law. He works at the grocery store on 20th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in paperweights."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Lundy gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a paperweight in Seoul 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 blushing at the Seven-Eleven when he rolled in and started to bark. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to leave that agile demon," she sobbed.

He handed her a muffin and she wiped her eyes speedily. He noticed her denim skirt looked leather. "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 lip violently. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would slice my lollipop if I didn't snuffle," she replied. "I said he's an ignoble grizzly bear. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's ignoble.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Law?"

"Only a week; I've only been in Seoul since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked narrowly, "did Mister Law ever talk about someone named Gabe Lincoln?

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

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

She looked at him gleefully. "I'm nobody's gentle soul," she decided, "and I don't want to be in Honolulu too long. I hope you can do something about Timothy soon."

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

"I can inch to Honolulu as soon as I pack a piece of chalk, a smartwatch, and my towel."

"You'd better take a cowbell too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he quoted shakily.

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

She rose from her seat and climbed openly out of the office. He stared bravely after her.

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