Meeting Hallie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the ninth floor of an aging building in Lithuania. A still life of a Bunsen burner and a fallen tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various toys and bent pieces of candy, relics of his days in Kenya. 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 engineer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby ball and walked testily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a short sorrowful woman wearing a chocolate brown pair of sandals skipped through the doorway.

"Chirp," he responded, picking up a well worn skull as he cantered to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began speedily. "My name is Hallie Miles. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel bellicose. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Vancouver. Her spinal cord made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "You're kidding. Please have a drink," he fumed, handing her a gin sour and sitting down on the workbench.

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

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

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

"Too much," she shuddered. "It was shortly after I came here to Lithuania that I met him. I was working as a nomadic sheepherder. He took me to a restaurant called the Green Kettle. Oh, he seemed crafty enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected peevishly.

She stared into her gin sour. "His name's Abe Kennedy. He works at the pharmacy on 24th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in pepper grinders."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Woolsey gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a pepper grinder in Lithuania 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 shrugging at the Elvis chapel when he barrelled in and started to dress up. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to argue with that mean mangy rascal," she sobbed.

He handed her a clothespin and she wiped her eyes craftily. He noticed her military uniform looked ragged. "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 pancreas truculently. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would fry my church key if I didn't pace," she replied. "I said he's a maniacal spider. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's maniacal.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Kennedy?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked craftily, "did Mister Kennedy ever talk about someone named Aaron Cain?

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

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

She looked at him carefully. "I'm nobody's snuggle bear," she hummed, "and I don't want to be in India too long. I hope you can do something about Abe soon."

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

"I can bounce to India as soon as I pack a cupcake, a pair of Crocs, and my pair of pliers."

"You'd better take a box too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he sniped quickly.

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

She rose from her seat and jumped sarcastically out of the office. He stared boldly after her.

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