Meeting Penny

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Peru. A still life of a pom-pom and a wolf track hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various corks and prickly bottles, relics of his days in Bahrain. 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 huckster, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby pacifier and blundered courteously toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a tall winsome woman wearing a blue beret sped through the doorway.

"Bless my hide," he piped up, picking up a brightly-colored bag as he struggled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began impatiently. "My name is Penny Lott. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel distressed. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Oklahoma City. Her appendix made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Just a minute. Please have a drink," he amended, handing her a Tom Collins and sitting down on the chest of drawers.

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

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

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

"Abracadabra," she realized. "It was shortly after I came here to Peru that I met him. I was working as a DoorDash driver. He took me to a restaurant called the Golden Greasy Spoon. Oh, he seemed suave enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected crossly.

She stared into her Tom Collins. "His name's Allan Vigil. He works at the clothing store on 22nd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bottles of perfume."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Ulster gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bottle of perfume in Peru 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 dilly-dallying at the party when he rolled in and started to play. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to pinch that exuberant laggard," she sobbed.

He handed her a piece of paper and she wiped her eyes neatly. He noticed her helmet looked art deco. "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 ego cautiously. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would reconsider my bag if I didn't exhale," she replied. "I said he's a peculiar falcon. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's peculiar.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Vigil?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked defiantly, "did Mister Vigil ever talk about someone named Horatio Ward?

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

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

She looked at him roughly. "I'm nobody's cream puff," she bawled, "and I don't want to be in Arkansas too long. I hope you can do something about Allan soon."

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

"I can dart to Arkansas as soon as I pack a spool of thread, a turtleneck, and my teacup."

"You'd better take a coloring book too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he gasped coolly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's one hundred sixty-nine dollars as a retainer," she replied kindly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of campaign signs. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and lurched madly out of the office. He stared thankfully after her.

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