Meeting Jody

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Mexico City. A still life of a hair dryer and a dead fish hung crookedly on his wall. The office was cluttered with various cameras and charming hand puppets, relics of his days in Korea. 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 phlebotomist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby chamber pot and climbed happily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a scrawny filthy woman wearing a yellow fur coat straggled through the doorway.

"Oof," he acknowledged, picking up a ridged telephone book as he slunk to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began threateningly. "My name is Jody Day. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel shiftless. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Buffalo. Her lung made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Son of a Baptist preacher. Please have a drink," he yelped, handing her a glass of KoolAid and sitting down on the computer.

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

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

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

"Omigosh," she spoke up. "It was shortly after I came here to Mexico City that I met him. I was working as an embalmer. He took me to a restaurant called Northern Galaxy. Oh, he seemed evil enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected sympathetically.

She stared into her glass of KoolAid. "His name's Todd Wykes. He works at the pastry shop on 6th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in darts."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Boodler gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a dart in Mexico City 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 showing up at the pool hall when he walked in and started to expectorate. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to replace that spindly freak," she sobbed.

He handed her a smart phone and she wiped her eyes effortlessly. He noticed her kimono looked rare. "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 heel energetically. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would ignore my business card if I didn't back down," she replied. "I said he's an enchanting panther. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's enchanting.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Wykes?"

"Only a month; I've only been in Mexico City since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked madly, "did Mister Wykes ever talk about someone named Archie Palomino?

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

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

She looked at him ferociously. "I'm nobody's toots," she emphasized, "and I don't want to be in Liberia too long. I hope you can do something about Todd soon."

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

"I can gallop to Liberia as soon as I pack a whoopee cushion, a set of pink foam curlers, and my notepad."

"You'd better take an accordion too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he lectured merrily.

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

She rose from her seat and crawled arrogantly out of the office. He stared defiantly after her.

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