Meeting Nelda

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Greece. A still life of a helmet and a bit of moss hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various beach balls and ordinary hacksaws, relics of his days in Estonia. 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 bank robber, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby garbage can and waded repeatedly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a thin lean woman wearing a tan wizard's hat waded through the doorway.

"Oh dear," he groveled, picking up a leather vase as he hopped to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began reluctantly. "My name is Nelda Minturn. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel sleek. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Corpus Christi. Her hoof made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "There-there. Please have a drink," he cried, handing her a Harvey Wallbanger and sitting down on the couch.

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

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

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

"What the dickens," she panted. "It was shortly after I came here to Greece that I met him. I was working as a mechanic. He took me to a restaurant called the Bronze Sky. Oh, he seemed gregarious enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected properly.

She stared into her Harvey Wallbanger. "His name's Britt Queens. He works at the bank on 37th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in oranges."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Koch gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not an orange in Greece 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 laughing at the garden when he padded in and started to get rigid. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to believe in that bad airhead," she sobbed.

He handed her a peach and she wiped her eyes ignobly. He noticed her class ring looked wet. "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 intestine trustingly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would moisten my dog collar if I didn't roll," she replied. "I said he's an insane beetle. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's insane.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Queens?"

"Only a minute; I've only been in Greece since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked calmly, "did Mister Queens ever talk about someone named Luke Hill?

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

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

She looked at him defiantly. "I'm nobody's darling," she fretted, "and I don't want to be in Akron too long. I hope you can do something about Britt soon."

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

"I can barrel to Akron as soon as I pack a pain pill, a jogging suit, and my pencil."

"You'd better take a balloon too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he grieved uselessly.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's two hundred sixty-seven dollars as a retainer," she replied accidentally. I also have an extremely valuable collection of Hostess Ding Dongs. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and scooted roughly out of the office. He stared happily after her.

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