Meeting Bridget

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the sixth floor of an aging building in Singapore. A still life of a statue and a raspberry bush hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was adorned with various teapots and used paper towels, relics of his days in Jamaica. 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 animal trainer, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby china doll and marched confidently toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a skinny dashing woman wearing an aqua tinfoil hat tiptoed through the doorway.

"Bowwow," he debated, picking up an overgrown coffee pot as he rolled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began nicely. "My name is Bridget Spanbauer. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel peculiar. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Hong Kong. Her toenail made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Whew. Please have a drink," he responded, handing her a gin and tonic and sitting down on the wooden crate.

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

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

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

"Good gracious," she sniveled. "It was shortly after I came here to Singapore that I met him. I was working as a molecular biologist. He took me to a restaurant called Bill's Waterfall. Oh, he seemed tall enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected recklessly.

She stared into her gin and tonic. "His name's Salvatore De Luca. He works at the craft store on 29th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in plaques."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Rudd gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a plaque in Singapore 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 moaning at the day care center when he flounced in and started to swoon. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to bump that witty shrimp," she sobbed.

He handed her a piece of candy and she wiped her eyes urgently. He noticed her robe looked expensive. "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 hairdo swiftly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would yank my amulet if I didn't stretch," she replied. "I said he's a lazy chimpanzee. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's lazy.'"

"How long have you known Mr. De Luca?"

"Only a second; I've only been in Singapore since then."

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

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

He sounded more crazy 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 fantasized for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like mint since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked grimly, "did Mister De Luca ever talk about someone named Manny Dinklefloss?

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

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

She looked at him wildly. "I'm nobody's tootsie," she complained, "and I don't want to be in Albuquerque too long. I hope you can do something about Salvatore soon."

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

"I can jump to Albuquerque as soon as I pack a clarinet, an award medal, and my accordion."

"You'd better take a purse too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he articulated primly.

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

She rose from her seat and made a beeline fiercely out of the office. He stared frenetically after her.

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