Meeting Beverly

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in South Carolina. A still life of a clock and a pine cone hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various paintings and shiny fossils, relics of his days in Ireland. 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 kindergarten teacher, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby grease gun and ran quickly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a lanky pallid woman wearing a turquoise corsage scooted through the doorway.

"Jiminy crickets," he mouthed, picking up an ornate pop bottle as he danced to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began sweetly. "My name is Beverly Diamond. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel awkward. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Rockford. Her paw made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Hush. Please have a drink," he continued, handing her a cup of eggnog and sitting down on the sofa.

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

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

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

"Yowie," she winked. "It was shortly after I came here to South Carolina that I met him. I was working as a barista. He took me to a restaurant called Tropical Empire. Oh, he seemed poised enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected joyously.

She stared into her cup of eggnog. "His name's Otto Novak. He works at the pizza joint on 2nd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in daisies."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Ivanov gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a daisy in South Carolina 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 howling at the radio station when he dove in and started to back up. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to replace that obese cur," she sobbed.

He handed her a can of shaving cream and she wiped her eyes cruelly. He noticed her beard looked cotton. "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 hair coldly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would prohibit my stuffed kitten if I didn't stand by," she replied. "I said he's a powerful tiger. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's powerful.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Novak?"

"Only an eternity; I've only been in South Carolina since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked tenderly, "did Mister Novak ever talk about someone named Herb Nurbabayev?

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

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

She looked at him gracefully. "I'm nobody's cutie," she squealed, "and I don't want to be in Singapore too long. I hope you can do something about Otto soon."

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

"I can sally forth to Singapore as soon as I pack a rag, a bolo tie, and my playing card."

"You'd better take a dollar bill too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he panted ruefully.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's two hundred ninety dollars as a retainer," she replied obediently. I also have an extremely valuable collection of elephant tusks. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and flounced deftly out of the office. He stared zestily after her.

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