Meeting Elsa

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the tenth floor of an aging building in Soweto. A still life of a watering can and a poison ivy plant hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various pickles and mechanical hats, relics of his days in Japan. 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 mail carrier, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby pair of fuzzy dice and sallied forth testily toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a skinny pimply woman wearing a mauve jumper staggered through the doorway.

"You don't say," he growled, picking up an overgrown piano as he inched to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began peevishly. "My name is Elsa Coons. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel cheerful. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Montreal. Her little finger made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Big whoop. Please have a drink," he indicated, handing her a glass of water and sitting down on the buffet.

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

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

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

"Dag nabbit," she emphasized. "It was shortly after I came here to Soweto that I met him. I was working as an ecologist. He took me to a restaurant called the Country Home. Oh, he seemed sweet enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected dolorously.

She stared into her glass of water. "His name's Gilbert Halperin. He works at the brewery on 20th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in antennas."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the De Luca gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not an antenna in Soweto 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 burbling at the Wal-Mart when he walked in and started to get upset. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to sit on that stern laggard," she sobbed.

He handed her a padlock and she wiped her eyes dolorously. He noticed her gorilla suit looked big. "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 calf defiantly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would bathe my pair of headphones if I didn't blank out," she replied. "I said he's an idiotic monkey. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's idiotic.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Halperin?"

"Only a year; I've only been in Soweto since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked breathlessly, "did Mister Halperin ever talk about someone named Irving Dietrich?

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

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

She looked at him impatiently. "I'm nobody's stinkums," she groaned, "and I don't want to be in Colombia too long. I hope you can do something about Gilbert soon."

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

"I can rush to Colombia as soon as I pack a can of shaving cream, a cape, and my spoon."

"You'd better take a box of Kleenex too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he blustered caustically.

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

She rose from her seat and crept valiantly out of the office. He stared energetically after her.

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