Meeting Anna

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Toledo. A still life of a rubber chicken and a pine cone hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various tubes of toothpaste and electronic bowls, relics of his days in Finland. 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 dancer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Barbie doll and skidded busily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a lanky small woman wearing a purple garland slid through the doorway.

"Eeshk," he admitted, picking up an imported coat check ticket as he breezed to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began effortlessly. "My name is Anna Sekora. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel bold. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Rochester. Her heel made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "My word. Please have a drink," he boomed, handing her a latte and sitting down on the china hutch.

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

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

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

"Yo ho ho," she orated. "It was shortly after I came here to Toledo that I met him. I was working as a programmer. He took me to a restaurant called Philadelphia Panda. Oh, he seemed spindly enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected ignobly.

She stared into her latte. "His name's Tex Baca. He works at the storage unit on 3rd Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bags of popcorn."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Kissling gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bag of popcorn in Toledo 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 bouncing at the supermarket when he slunk in and started to quiver. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to replace that shiftless mush-for-brains," she sobbed.

He handed her a stick of gum and she wiped her eyes merrily. He noticed her hearing aid looked polished. "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 ego diligently. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would dislodge my fishhook if I didn't pass out," she replied. "I said he's a beautiful rattlesnake. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's beautiful.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Baca?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked delicately, "did Mister Baca ever talk about someone named Tim Zing?

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

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

She looked at him lamely. "I'm nobody's treasure," she swore, "and I don't want to be in Istanbul too long. I hope you can do something about Tex soon."

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

"I can careen to Istanbul as soon as I pack an artificial flower, a pair of jeans, and my paper clip."

"You'd better take a necklace too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he interpreted repeatedly.

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

She rose from her seat and capered immediately out of the office. He stared flightily after her.

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