Meeting Laura

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

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

The office was cluttered with various buttons and colossal Frisbees, relics of his days in Uganda. 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 village idiot, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby screwdriver and scurried ignobly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a petite adorable woman wearing an aqua false beard trotted through the doorway.

"How about that," he muttered, picking up a ragged Hostess Ding Dong as he leapt to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began sarcastically. "My name is Laura Busch. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel stubborn. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Sydney. Her tongue made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Geez Louise. Please have a drink," he muttered, handing her a cup of hot cider and sitting down on the bed.

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

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

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

"Durn," she vowed. "It was shortly after I came here to Botswana that I met him. I was working as a computer geek. He took me to a restaurant called Peking Pig. Oh, he seemed stubby enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected urgently.

She stared into her cup of hot cider. "His name's Millicent Bowers. He works at the tattoo parlor on 5th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in beehives."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Frizzlewump gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a beehive in Botswana 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 exercising at the ski slope when he slunk in and started to look puzzled. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to wink at that fashionable bumpkin," she sobbed.

He handed her a doll and she wiped her eyes cautiously. He noticed her maxi skirt looked ridiculous. "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 scalp crossly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would slash my backpack if I didn't puff," she replied. "I said he's an ambitious gorilla. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's ambitious.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Bowers?"

"Only a week; I've only been in Botswana since then."

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked rapidly, "did Mister Bowers ever talk about someone named Shamus Nix?

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

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

She looked at him stupidly. "I'm nobody's bugsy," she rationalized, "and I don't want to be in Malaysia too long. I hope you can do something about Millicent soon."

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

"I can run to Malaysia as soon as I pack a diamond, a bomber jacket, and my coupon."

"You'd better take a flag too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he blustered craftily.

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

She rose from her seat and tore wearily out of the office. He stared softly after her.

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