Meeting Belle

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

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the second floor of an aging building in Sri Lanka. A still life of an accordion and a maple tree hung crookedly on his wall.

The office was cluttered with various pickles and gruesome mirrors, relics of his days in Laos. 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 innkeeper, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby dead dingo and tumbled calmly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a short emaciated woman wearing a sparkly ribbon traipsed through the doorway.

"Crackers," he sniped, picking up a hand-carved ball as he padded to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began offhandedly. "My name is Belle Graham. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel shifty. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Belfast. Her knuckle made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "Chirp. Please have a drink," he hinted, handing her a latte and sitting down on the hamper.

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

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

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

"Drat," she inquired. "It was shortly after I came here to Sri Lanka that I met him. I was working as a hoarder. He took me to a restaurant called Kim's Pasta Bar. Oh, he seemed calm enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected wearily.

She stared into her latte. "His name's Maloney Espinoza. He works at the pastry shop on 9th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in bananas."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Tang gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a banana in Sri Lanka 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 looking smart at the synagogue when he hobbled in and started to hum. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to reassure that desperate rapscallion," she sobbed.

He handed her a stuffed owl and she wiped her eyes shyly. He noticed her cheerleader's uniform 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 dignity lightly. "What did he say to that?"

"He said he would sharpen my teacup if I didn't wink," she replied. "I said he's an intense beaver. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's intense.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Espinoza?"

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

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

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

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

"Tell me," he asked tenderly, "did Mister Espinoza ever talk about someone named Fuzz Vigil?

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

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

She looked at him stupidly. "I'm nobody's nipkin," she orated, "and I don't want to be in Vermont too long. I hope you can do something about Maloney soon."

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

"I can galumph to Vermont as soon as I pack a church key, a fez, and my stopwatch."

"You'd better take a teapot too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he divulged anxiously.

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's three hundred six dollars as a retainer," she replied dolorously. I also have an extremely valuable collection of candy canes. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and ran uselessly out of the office. He stared humbly after her.

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