Meeting Jeanette

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the eighth floor of an aging building in Japan. A still life of a potato and a raspberry bush hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various magnets and petite hockey pucks, relics of his days in Azerbaijan. 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 florist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby cigarette lighter and sashayed speedily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a lithe olive woman wearing a navy blue pair of Groucho glasses sauntered through the doorway.

"Aaack," he blustered, picking up a bizarre rock as he marched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began boisterously. "My name is Jeanette Knotts. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel childish. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Hialeah. Her mouth made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Retch. Please have a drink," he fumed, handing her a martini and sitting down on the safe.

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

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

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

"At last," she announced. "It was shortly after I came here to Japan that I met him. I was working as an exterminator. He took me to a restaurant called China Snack Shack. Oh, he seemed forgetful enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected lamely.

She stared into her martini. "His name's Woody Ping. He works at the clothing store on 39th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in buttons."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Fancypants gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a button in Japan 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 praying at the church when he trotted in and started to get sleepy. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to outwit that humble dodo," she sobbed.

He handed her a cowbell and she wiped her eyes ignobly. He noticed her coonskin hat looked abnormal. "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 ear hopefully. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would brandish my skull if I didn't get sleepy," she replied. "I said he's a pensive butterfly. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's pensive.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Ping?"

"Only a fortnight; I've only been in Japan since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked hastily, "did Mister Ping ever talk about someone named Aaron Emerson?

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

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

She looked at him gratefully. "I'm nobody's flower," she intimated, "and I don't want to be in Lexington too long. I hope you can do something about Woody soon."

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

"I can roll to Lexington as soon as I pack a coupon, a set of football pads, and my candy cane."

"You'd better take a bag of ice too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he judged perkily.

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

She rose from her seat and inched arrogantly out of the office. He stared irritably after her.

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