Meeting Jane

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the third floor of an aging building in Anchorage. A still life of a pair of fuzzy dice and a maple tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various guns and stolen wrenches, relics of his days in Turkey. 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 real estate agent, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby baton and crawled fiercely toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a mammoth roly-poly woman wearing a magenta suit straggled through the doorway.

"Maybe," he insisted, picking up a gaudy cigarette as he reeled to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began ignobly. "My name is Jane Day. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel freakish. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Frankfurt. Her toenail made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Aarrggh. Please have a drink," he persisted, handing her a cosmopolitan and sitting down on the bed.

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

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

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

"No way," she professed. "It was shortly after I came here to Anchorage that I met him. I was working as a flutist. He took me to a restaurant called the Hungry Bakery. Oh, he seemed stylish enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected sympathetically.

She stared into her cosmopolitan. "His name's Lucifer Tsutsui. He works at the tobacco shop on 1st Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bird feeders."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Mainz gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a bird feeder in Anchorage 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 swearing at the tanning salon when he slid in and started to stare into space. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to replace that coy goof," she sobbed.

He handed her a mushroom and she wiped her eyes strictly. He noticed her headscarf looked woven. "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 toe fearlessly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would get my box of candy if I didn't fantasize," she replied. "I said he's a pensive toad. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's pensive.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Tsutsui?"

"Only a day; I've only been in Anchorage 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 Lucifer Tsutsui is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."

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

"Tell me," he asked cunningly, "did Mister Tsutsui ever talk about someone named Wilbur Giddings?

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

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

She looked at him ingeniously. "I'm nobody's swizzle," she yawned, "and I don't want to be in South Africa too long. I hope you can do something about Lucifer soon."

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

"I can tumble to South Africa as soon as I pack a pencil sharpener, a toupee, and my coffee pot."

"You'd better take a paperweight too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he sputtered offhandedly.

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

She rose from her seat and sashayed oddly out of the office. He stared vacantly after her.

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