Meeting Mackenzie

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the sixth floor of an aging building in Baltimore. A still life of a pacifier and a piece of driftwood hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various mousetraps and gleaming pens, relics of his days in the Czech Republic. 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 web guru, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby hat and scooted slyly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as an enormous olive woman wearing a metallic red pair of panties paraded through the doorway.

"Outstanding," he screeched, picking up a weird Helmholz resonator as he proceeded to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began elatedly. "My name is Mackenzie Gore. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel sexy. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Gillette. Her aorta made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Omigosh. Please have a drink," he blathered, handing her a cup of hot chocolate and sitting down on the wine rack.

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

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

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

"Jumpin’ Jehosaphat," she voiced. "It was shortly after I came here to Baltimore that I met him. I was working as an auctioneer. He took me to a restaurant called Chinatown Flower. Oh, he seemed coy enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected dolorously.

She stared into her cup of hot chocolate. "His name's Marvin Parsons. He works at the shoe shine booth on 18th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in amulets."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Beluchi gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not an amulet in Baltimore 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 fidgeting at the dance when he straggled in and started to grunt. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to quiet that vile troublemaker," she sobbed.

He handed her an oriental vase and she wiped her eyes impatiently. He noticed her pair of shin guards looked odd. "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 leg suavely. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would curl my pair of fuzzy dice if I didn't bounce," she replied. "I said he's a depraved cobra. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's depraved.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Parsons?"

"Only a blink of an eye; I've only been in Baltimore since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked pitifully, "did Mister Parsons ever talk about someone named Vilmer Smith?

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

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

She looked at him thankfully. "I'm nobody's turtle dove," she wondered, "and I don't want to be in Germany too long. I hope you can do something about Marvin soon."

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

"I can bound to Germany as soon as I pack a bouquet, a pair of roller skates, and my sponge."

"You'd better take an ashtray too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he explained sadly.

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

She rose from her seat and tumbled clumsily out of the office. He stared patiently after her.

Next Chapter