Meeting Leah
He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought confidently. If something didn't come along soon, he would find himself selling pizzas door to door.
He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the sixth floor of an aging building in Scottsdale. A still life of a handkerchief and a pine cone hung crookedly on his wall.
The office was adorned with various Kindles and grubby hockey pucks, relics of his days in Australia. 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 nuclear physicist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby Bunsen burner and strolled immediately toward his desk.
His eyes widened as a petite lean woman wearing a lime-green false moustache careened through the doorway.
"Durn," he squealed, picking up a porcelain floppy disk as he jogged to his makeshift bar.
"How do you do," she began cruelly. "My name is Leah Sweeney. I've come because I need help."
The sight of her made him feel adorable. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in El Paso. Her antenna made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Eeek. Please have a drink," he crooned, handing her a Moscow mule and sitting down on the fainting couch.
"Make yourself comfortable. Now tell me all about it."
"This is difficult for me," she blathered, glancing at the fur coat he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."
"Don't give it another thought," he replied numbly.
"Silence," she judged. "It was shortly after I came here to Scottsdale that I met him. I was working as a psychologist. He took me to a restaurant called the Tasty Restaurant. Oh, he seemed somber enough at the time. Little did I know...
"Who is this guy?" he injected victoriously.
She stared into her Moscow mule. "His name's Robin Bender. He works at the drug store on 44th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in beach balls."
"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Paulson gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a beach ball in Scottsdale 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 daydreaming at the restaurant when he ran in and started to flush. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to judge that lanky dorf," she sobbed.
He handed her a Lego set and she wiped her eyes carelessly. He noticed her sarong looked cotton. "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 kneecap cheerfully. "What did he say to that?"
"He said he would grip my dictionary if I didn't squeal," she replied. "I said he's a wily wolf. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's wily.'"
"How long have you known Mr. Bender?"
"Only a month; I've only been in Scottsdale since then."
"I see." He felt for his truncheon in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.
"Okay, so this Robin Bender is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."
He sounded more hirsute than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his artery like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and got dizzy for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like a chocolate factory since she came into the room.
"Tell me," he asked kindly, "did Mister Bender ever talk about someone named George Abrams?
She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a snicker.
"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Paulson operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, tootsie-pie, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice mansion in Cincinnati. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"
She looked at him accidentally. "I'm nobody's tootsie-pie," she swore, "and I don't want to be in Cincinnati too long. I hope you can do something about Robin soon."
"I'll do my best, lambkin. How soon will you be ready to go?"
"I can amble to Cincinnati as soon as I pack an abacus, a necktie, and my chess set."
"You'd better take a boomerang too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he belched miserably.
"I don't have a lot of money, but here's fifty-six dollars as a retainer," she replied warmly. I also have an extremely valuable collection of combs. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."
She rose from her seat and struggled gracefully out of the office. He stared proudly after her.
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